A book reviewer I knew told me he had a philosophy when it came to writing negative reviews: He refused. He claimed it was because there was so much good stuff to be writing about, why bother taking the time to trash something. Noble concept, but A: it's fun to write something harsh when it's deserved, and B: it's quite easy to walk around proclaiming that shit is great. M. Ward - he's great! Cat Power - she's great! Deerhoof - weird, and great! The
Pitchfork folks have built a cottage industry in plucking indie phenoms, inflating them with geek proclamations and watching their creations blow up -- see
Wired's The Pitchfork Effect. All of this leads me, obviously, to Lily Allen. I saw Ms. Allen perform here a week ago - it was the night after she made a bunch of headlines for not winning anything at the Brit awards and then hit the town with those shitbag Gallagher brothers from Oasis.I find nothing about Lily Allen objectionable at all - but really, for someone commanding so much love from the indie rock community, I was phenomenally underwhelmed. If you want ska-pop - Gwen Stefani does it better and cuter, with Harajuku girls. If you want underage brit girls singing about filthy stuff - Lady Sovereign has got you covered. Girly songs about everyday life? Tegan and Sara, Liz Phair, etc., etc.So what, exactly, do we need Lily Allen for, I ask all of you. All of this pre-amble got me ready to do some serious hating... the list is underway.
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