Grown Up All Wrong: 75 Great Rock and Pop Artists from Vaudeville to Techno [Hardcover]

I've been following Christgau's work in the Village Voice for almost twenty-five years now. Though he can be a bit prolix, if there exists a more astute observer of pop culture, I've failed to find him/her. Chief among his many strengths as a critic is the fact that he (like the sorely missed Pauline Kael) has never forgotten that art should first be pleasurable. He is also as immune to knee-jerk put-downs (cf his recent favorable review of rap artist Canibus) as he is mindless hype. In short, he has the best ears in the business and will extend both your listening range and pleasure if given half a chance.

It's telling that in the nearly ten years of this book's existence, it has accrued exactly one "customer review" (prior to this one, which hopefully will see the light of day). But (and this is a big but) if you look at the "Editorial Reviews," you could easily be overwhelmed by all the ink that's been spilled (or bits that have been keyed) on the subject this not-so-humble collection of essays on some the pop and rock musicians that the author believes have mattered most. The level of meta-criticism is pretty astounding and certainly gives credence to Christgau's self-proclaimed, hopefully somewhat ironic status as "The Dean of American Rock Criticism." He is important, at least, to other critics, it seems. Does the man or woman on the street or the fan in the aisles care particularly much? Maybe not, but they likely have glanced at his Consumer Guide a time or two, at least to check out the assigned letter grade of some favorite recent release.

The Consumer Guide, which Christgau himself refers to as his "signature venue," proved to be something of a stroke a genius when first introduced over thirty years ago. Helping music "consumers" make wise purchases was probably the least of the author's goals. But its capsule review format did give the ambitious young critic occasion to evaluate and pronounce judgment on much more "product" than he otherwise ever would have. That and his erudite-but-breezy style helped him make a name for himself and ultimately to clinch the coveted "Dean" slot (if indeed there was ever any serious competition).

So how seriously are we to take this guy anyway? Well, the beauty of rock criticism is that you get to choose. Christgau (or Greil Marcus or Lester Bangs or Dave Marsh) is about as important as you allow him/them to be. I mean you can justifiably get a bit irritated at a writer who prides himself on doing what he could to "let out some of [rock music's] hot air" and then proceeds to blather on about "what a burden counterhegemonic expectations impose in a world where the most consciously and cannily political culture....remains tragically if not ridiculously superstructural." Yikes, prasing like that doesn't seem worth deciphering even if you could.

In all fairness though, you CAN plow through most of these essays fairly handily if you decide to make the effort (and I do recommend you try). In fact, compared to his most recent Consumer Guide entries, these longer efforts--portraits all of music greats the author genuinely cares about--are models of clarity. Christgau seems genuinely eager to share his musical passions with the reader and the extended format of the New Journalistic essay allows him to do just that. (The CG reviews by contrast are often inscrutable these days, obscure ruminations on relatively obscure--though possibly quite deserving, who-can-tell?-- artists).

The point is that as unconventional a writer as Christgau strives to be, his essays have a beginning, a middle and an end, and the reader who might never have considered giving George Jones or George Gershwin or George Clinton a serious listen might well be inclined to do so after reading the author's comprehensive, and, yes, insightful commentaries. Whatever else you might say about Robert Christgau, this is a guy who thinks long and hard about popular music and culture. In so doing, he articulates what many of his readers may have--perhaps only cursorily--thought about such matters as Bonnie Raitt's earnest sense of mission or B.B. King's enormous work ethic or John Lennon's valiant efforts to "smash alienation."

We've all probably known someone like Robert Christgau at some point in out lives. He's like the know-it-all kid whose smugness you could mostly forgive because, hey, he really WAS smart, and whose occasional obnoxiousness, you couldn't help but note, was inextricably mixed with a genuine passion for his subject matter. Christgau is no kid, of course, and neither are most of his readers. But he still is excited about his subject matter. And if HIS subject matter happens to be the same as YOUR subject matter, you find you can find yourself sharing that excitement and cutting the guy a bit of slack--no matter how many times he uses the word "bricolage."