Upon the release of Tyga’s newest album, “$TARFACE,” fans and critics alike were quick to (rightfully) berate the album for its blandness and alleged embrace of artificial intelligence in its production. Among the most prominent of these attacks was digital music publication Pitchfork’s review of the album, which gave it a 0.0 out of 10 score and labeled it “slop-pop.”
Pitchfork’s review hit the nail on the head in many aspects; the album commits the sin of not only being unoriginal, but also abandoning the centuries-old partnership between human innovation and music. Music, the universal language, should only ever be made by humans. From string instruments to GarageBand, humans have communicated across seas, languages and time with music.
But this one particularly correct take doesn't validate Pitchfork’s existence. The magazine, founded in 1996 in Minneapolis by journalist *Ryan Schreiber, covered alternative and indie genres at its inception before expanding outward to other genres.
During the 1990s and 2000s, the magazine earned an audience through cruel, pretentious reviews. It dominated the music journalism sphere, claiming its place as a kingmaker for artists its writers deemed good while ending the careers of artists it deemed bad.
Although Sufjan Stevens and Bon Iver earned frequent high grades, artists and bands including Sonic Youth and Liz Phair have been handed mean-spirited low scores. The publication’s review for Jet’s 2006 album “Shine On” famously is simply a link to a video of a monkey peeing in its own mouth.
Many musicians have made impressive careers in spite of extremely harsh Pitchfork reviews. Panic! At The Disco’s now-classic debut album, “A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out,” received a 1.5 out of the possible 10. Its review failed to foresee the cultural impact of the album, labeling it a “steaming hot pile of garbage.”
“It's sad that this is what emo has become,” Cory Byrom, a Pitchfork journalist, wrote in 2005. “The genre's always had some irritating characteristics, but this newest batch of heartbroken heartthrobs has managed to build their careers solely out of those characteristics. The whining, the emotionally exposed lyrics and the passionate choruses are there, but there's no sincerity, creativity or originality.”
Pitchfork has had a plethora of similar moments getting reviews wrong. The review of Björk’s “Vespertine,” an album that combined everyday sounds, classical instruments and electronic instrumentation, claimed the album didn’t have as much of an impact as her previous works.
The deeply cynical review of Nine Inch Nails’ “The Fragile” gave the album a 2.0 upon its release in 1999; the publication retroactively gave it an 8.7 for its 2017 remaster, an unfortunate habit the editorial staff at Pitchfork has developed as they’ve assessed albums unfairly.
These reviews are not earnest or authentic as Pitchfork readers have long claimed they are. The editorial penchant for provocation over actual criticism is the lifeblood of the magazine’s criticism, even as a changing media landscape has left the publication under new management and behind a paywall.
None of this is to say there isn’t room for negative reviews for music. Criticism is healthy; it keeps artists from delivering lazy albums. Listeners need music journalists who aren’t afraid to say an album by their favorite artist is bad. Although any evaluation of a creative work is inherently subjective, music criticism keeps artists from dishing out albums like Tyga’s “pop-slop.”
However, it all gets to a point. Pitchfork’s emphasis on degrading musicians instead of evaluating them has turned people off to music journalism. Even when the publication correctly calls out an artist for using generative AI or gives a phenomenal album a high score, the conversation around the review inevitably turns to the magazine’s continued elitism.
Assigning numbers to music implies an objectivism that asserts the writers behind the score are right and you, the listener, are wrong, a business model that has resulted in an online graveyard of embarrassing reviews.
Pitchfork’s most recognizable editorial trait ultimately makes it impossible to read. Enjoy your music, read about your favorite artists (and think critically about them and their works), but don’t embrace one magazine with a history of ragebait above all else, and don’t let that one publication shape your opinions of music journalism as a whole.
Jackson McCoy is a senior studying journalism and environmental studies at Ohio University. Please note that the views and opinions of the columnists do not reflect those of The Post. Want to share your thoughts? Let Jackson know by emailing him at jm049122@ohio.edu.
