Why read a book of music criticism? It depends. You could be interested in a particular essay or review. Maybe you’re researching a band or period of music. Maybe you’re just a music nerd. But generally, music criticism is disposable: tastes change and bands fall into oblivion only to be rediscovered and reappraised in a different context.
Occasionally, however, a collection drops that’s worth reading in spite of that. Even if taste change, good writing doesn’t, particularly when it’s mixed with smart insights and clever observations (not to mention the occasional joke). Jessica Hopper’s first collection of criticism is one of these books.
Her collection is largely taken from pieces published at large outlets: the Chicago Reader, SPIN Magazine and occasionally The Village Voice. They run from album reviews to interviews to features on musicians. She also writes with authority on a wide range of music: Miley Cyrus to Bruce Springsteen to Kendrick Lamar. But no matter the subject, Hopper’s criticism focuses in on meanings and impact. For example, when she writes about Lady Gaga, she doesn’t simply compare Gaga’s outfits to her peers’, but zeroes in on what the outfits mean:
“(Gaga) acknowledges the ironies, the ruptures, the fantasies of pop, and she abides by them as she rips them apart.” (pg 44)
Elsewhere, Hopper’s writing rips apart Miley Cyrus (“to ask her to see the scope of her privilege… is an act of futility”), goes deep into the emotional resonance of Van Morrison and wanders through corporate-run music festivals.
Some of the most interesting essays in this collection focus on what music does to people, be it her reactions to a mid-70s Van Morrison record or long, well-researched feature on how ad companies are where musicians are making their money these days.
I think my favourite piece of all is when Hopper looks at Sufjan Steven’s record Come On Feel the Illinoise and offers him a tour of her city, subtlety setting his twee observations and clichéd imagery of serial killers, fires and 1920s mobsters, against what a local knows about the town:
“We could drive around under the Green Line tracks where a car chase from The Blues Brothers took place, visit the fern room at the Garfield Park Conservatory, the top floor atrium of the Harold Washington Library where the floors are marble and cool and very clean and no one is ever there so you can lay on them and look up into the downtown sky or just read the books you checked out…” (pg 28)
In a short piece, and without really saying a negative thing about the record, Hopper sets this record’s shortcomings out while also explaining how it could’ve been better. It’s a great piece of criticism.
At the same time, there are moments where her essays seem a bit dated. Take her two pieces on Miley Cyrus – two of the newer stories here, for what it’s worth – show how quickly the discourse around the pop star has mutated and changed. Where people once argued about her image and what she stood for, how they argue about her cultural appropriation and language.
Despite the eye-grabbing title, The First Collection of Criticism By A Living Female Rock Critic isn’t exactly that (former New Yorker music critic Ellen Willis had a book in print during her lifetime, for example), but as Hopper acknowledges, “it’s more about planting a flag,” than a literal accuracy.
Her point is this is a field dominated by a select few – Robert Christgau’s “Expert Witness” column found yet another new home just a few weeks ago, for example – and Hopper’s book is a sharp, smart and funny voice. Unlike most music journalism, it’s fresh and insightful, even years after it’s initial publication. This may or may not be the first collection by a living female critic, but it shouldn’t be alone for long. Recommended.
