I have a sense of humour. I watch dodgy “history” clip-shows on very dodgy TV channels and am quite happy to forgive some (indeed many) factual errors if they can be disguised by a witty, pithy one-liner. I like ‘pop’ history (in all senses of the word) very much. I understand and value its function. I believe pop/rock music history is not only a valid branch of cultural history but a highly informative means of examining the recent past. I often find myself admiring music journalists – even when they irritate me – for their sheer rhetorical chutzpah. I also realise that the newspaper business can make deadline demands which result in short-cuts, non-existent research time or brutal hacking by a sub-editor.
Having said all that, could this be the most pointless, meandering, impenetrable and incomprehensible “article” on “music history” I have ever had the misfortune to read in a national newspaper?
Actually, I didn’t quite finish it. I just couldn’t. Two-thirds of the way through (having succumbed to the double-whammy of sinking heart and rising blood-pressure) I began to weep at the gratuitous mass-murder of trees required to run it in the very newspaper which used to be graced by the mighty Julie Burchill. (Incidentally, despite her somewhat fearsome reputation, I won’t have a word said against Julie. On a personal level I can vouch that she is a lovely woman: about five years ago she sent me an entirely unsolicited signed first edition of her brilliant, long-out-of-print first book Damaged Gods after I had tried every means to source it. In a small way she helped inspire me back on to the route which has led to my current PhD. Love or loathe her opinions, her prose style is phenomenal and her ability to sustain an argument unrivaled. She would never allow tosh like this to run under her name.)
The article in question, by contrast, is vacuous. Ostensibly about The Clash’s London Calling, it has no thesis or insights to offer. Its non-content is conveyed through prose both turgid and flaccid. It is not history. It is not sociological analysis. It is not entertaining to read, even to provoke opposition; it is devoid of any meaning worthy of opposing. It is, literally, pointless. I cannot work out what it is trying to convey to me, or about what. It put me in mind of Truman Capote (and not in a good way), who allegedly said: “that’s not writing – that’s typing”. More so, to paraphrase Harrison Ford to George Lucas: “you can type this sh*t – but you can’t read it”.
If anyone can decipher what the author is, in fact, trying to say (my life is too short for any further attempts at analysis) they may have a prize of their own choosing. If not, I declare that the author has just been awarded the first ever Smashing The Window USHA. Yes, you’ve guessed it: JQ is the recipient (proud, I hope) of the inaugural Utterly Sh*te History Award.
And the first USHA goes to….
Posted by Jack on August 9, 2007
I have a sense of humour. I watch dodgy “history” clip-shows on very dodgy TV channels and am quite happy to forgive some (indeed many) factual errors if they can be disguised by a witty, pithy one-liner. I like ‘pop’ history (in all senses of the word) very much. I understand and value its function. I believe pop/rock music history is not only a valid branch of cultural history but a highly informative means of examining the recent past. I often find myself admiring music journalists – even when they irritate me – for their sheer rhetorical chutzpah. I also realise that the newspaper business can make deadline demands which result in short-cuts, non-existent research time or brutal hacking by a sub-editor.
Having said all that, could this be the most pointless, meandering, impenetrable and incomprehensible “article” on “music history” I have ever had the misfortune to read in a national newspaper?
Actually, I didn’t quite finish it. I just couldn’t. Two-thirds of the way through (having succumbed to the double-whammy of sinking heart and rising blood-pressure) I began to weep at the gratuitous mass-murder of trees required to run it in the very newspaper which used to be graced by the mighty Julie Burchill. (Incidentally, despite her somewhat fearsome reputation, I won’t have a word said against Julie. On a personal level I can vouch that she is a lovely woman: about five years ago she sent me an entirely unsolicited signed first edition of her brilliant, long-out-of-print first book Damaged Gods after I had tried every means to source it. In a small way she helped inspire me back on to the route which has led to my current PhD. Love or loathe her opinions, her prose style is phenomenal and her ability to sustain an argument unrivaled. She would never allow tosh like this to run under her name.)
The article in question, by contrast, is vacuous. Ostensibly about The Clash’s London Calling, it has no thesis or insights to offer. Its non-content is conveyed through prose both turgid and flaccid. It is not history. It is not sociological analysis. It is not entertaining to read, even to provoke opposition; it is devoid of any meaning worthy of opposing. It is, literally, pointless. I cannot work out what it is trying to convey to me, or about what. It put me in mind of Truman Capote (and not in a good way), who allegedly said: “that’s not writing – that’s typing”. More so, to paraphrase Harrison Ford to George Lucas: “you can type this sh*t – but you can’t read it”.
If anyone can decipher what the author is, in fact, trying to say (my life is too short for any further attempts at analysis) they may have a prize of their own choosing. If not, I declare that the author has just been awarded the first ever Smashing The Window USHA. Yes, you’ve guessed it: JQ is the recipient (proud, I hope) of the inaugural Utterly Sh*te History Award.
Posted in Cultural commentary, Music, Reductive/Nostalgia, USHAs, Writing | 8 Comments »