FROM THE BRAIN TRUST BEHIND PITCHFORKMEDIA. COM -- THE WEBSITE THE LOS ANGELES TIMES DECLARED "AN ESSENTIAL PART OF THE IPO D GENERATION'S LEXICON, A MUST-READ" -- A FRESH GUIDE TO THE 500 BEST SONGS OF THE PAST THIRTY YEARS.
Named the "best site for music criticism on the web" by The New York Times Magazine, Pitchforkmedia.com has become the leading independent resource for music journalism, the place people turn to find out what's happening in new music. Founded in 1995, Pitchfork has developed one of the web's most devoted followings, with more than 1.6 million readers monthly who tune in for daily reviews, news, features, videos, and interviews.
In The Pitchfork 500: Our Guide to the Greatest Songs from Punk to the Present, Pitchfork offers up their take on the 500 best songs of the past three decades. Focusing on indie rock (Arcade Fire, the Shins), hiphop (Public Enemy, Jay-Z), electronic (Daft Punk, Boards of Canada), pop (Madonna, Justin Timberlake), metal (Metallica, Boris), and experimental underground music (Suicide, Boredoms), it features all-new essays and reviews written with the sharp wit and insight for which the site is known.
Kicking it off in 1977 with the birth of punk and independent music, The Pitchfork 500 runs chronologically, with each chapter representing a distinct period and offering a narrative of how the musical landscape of the day influenced its artists. The book opens with David Bowie, Lou Reed, Iggy Pop, Kraftwerk, and Brian Eno, the "art-rock godfathers" who set the tone and tenor for the next thirty years, and wraps up in the present, when bands connect with new audiences through social networking sites and prime-time TV placements -- and when a single mp3 can turn a niche indie artist into a global sensation. Sidebars like "Yacht Rock," "Runaway Trainwrecks," "Nanofads," and "Career Killers" call out some far-from-classic musical trends and identify the guiltiest offenders.
Modernizing the music-guide format, The Pitchfork 500 reflects the way listeners are increasingly processing music -- by song rather than by album. These 500 tracks condense thirty years of essential music into the ultimate chronological playlist, each song advancing the narrative and, by extension, the music itself.
This was okay. Other people can talk about why Pitchfork is unintentionally bad better than I can so I won't linger on it too much. I only really cared about the 80's and 90's bits because the 2000's were filled with too many white interchangeable indie musicians and all the 70's ones were just trying to gaslight you into thinking experimental guitar clawing is actually really accessible and dancable. I think they did an okay job at getting enough pop, dance, and even the occasional R&B covered in here but they definitely over stressed the importance of people who has me thinking "really? one of the 500 greatest?" like Aphex Twin. I know when it comes to rap Pitchfork is actually semi credible (or at least as credible as white writers can be) but their taste in rap music is usually just "aha! you didn't expect random white people from Michigan to like Yeezus, right?"- style hype beasts, so I'm side eyeing some of their rap inclusions but ignoring (in my opinion) influential people like PM Dawn, Queen Latifah, TLC, Digable Planets, Neneh Cherry, (interesting how New Jack Swing [commercial and now dated, but still an innovative genre bending sound] got 0 mention at all but IDM and French House were allegedly all the rage... hm), the Fugees, Arrested Development, and Lauryn Hill. If it was up to me, I also would've include Janet Jackson, Fiona Apple, Tori Amos, and Garbage, but then it wouldn't be Pitchfork 500, so... What I actually did really enjoy about this book were the chapter headers that summarized each 3 years covered (ie- 1997 to 1999) and the changes that were taking place in the music industry at the time. It was able to explain everything clearly without sounding academic and I would actually like to read more stuff like that. I also enjoyed all the sub lists they randomly sprinkled throughout the book, like pages dedicated to alt country, twee pop, and emo. It was a clever way to include way more artists (I'm happy that Brandy got one more shout out) other than the 500 greatest songs. I would totally get a "[music publication]'s 250 made up niche music scenes and playlists" book next. Maybe I should explore the Pitchfork website before the paywall goes up.
In which a gaggle of pointdexters attempt to wax hilarious, authoritative, and/or iconoclastic on their nuevo canon. As you can guess, two thirds of the book is just Pitchbork scribblers' take on the received pre-2000 canon -- very few surprises, unless you are shocked by the inclusion of "I Can't Go For That (No Can Do)" and the Suspiria soundtrack. Some mildly informative sidebars too, on grindcore and twee pop and such: BUT the sidebar on "Yacht Rock" was so droll and snobby it catapulted me into a violent pro-Firefall fugue state.
The 'forklifters don't make it very explicit in the book, but the last third is really Pitchfork's celebration of their own turn-of-the-century Gen-Z canon. There are many groovy songs here (also lots of indefensible wuss music on the order of Devendra Banhart and Animal Collective). But the writing damn near inverted my corneas with its preposterous press-kit wankery, e.g. "Many critics hoped Radiohead would become the biggest band in the world; instead they threatened to become the best." (That's a quote from editor-in-chief Scott Plagenhoef, in case you were worried I'm picking on some starving freelancer.) If we eat any more S'Mores like that we're likely to pass out before the circle jerk even gets off the ground!
There are three interesting writers here: Nate Patrin, Douglas Wolk, and Julianne Escobedo Shepherd. Look for their initials. As for the rest, have a bottle of whiskey and a damp washcloth at hand.
I enjoyed the first part (part is generous because I mean until 1994), probably because my music taste more or less matched theirs/I didn't know enough other people, but after that, whew. Until 1994 it was pretty diverse (Oops at me giving credit for any women or people of color), but afterward, it felt like they only included Black men for rap (Honestly I don't think there were that many Asian/Latino artists, but I realize that's a music industry problem, not a Pitchfork problem). I feel like the 90's had too bad of a split for Top 40 music and alternative/cool music, and then they tried to overcompensate for it in the 2000's. I guess it worked more as a time capsule instead of a be all end all. I didn't like how they had Britney Spears mentioned in other people's entries as forward thinking pop like 3 times but then they didn't actually include her. I enjoyed the random genre pages. I liked seeing both grime and alternative country have them. Since this book was made for people to respond with their own ideas and fantasy picks: -Janet Jackson: This is like the third music reference book I've read where I objectively realize why Janet wasn't in but wish she was. 2007 was one of Janet's lows probably for cultural cache but yeah. If all of the 2000's pop songs were included, surely Janet could have had a spot. -Grace Jones: I guess Grace jones only began to get a second look this decade too, and I could only think of Pull Up to the Bumper, but still. -Justify my Love by Madonna: Okay the more I read this book the more I was like this song does not have the range but hey. -Don't Disturb This Groove: This song sounds like a vaporwave song even if it's from the 80's. Yet another example of a 'If this was written in 2017 instead of 2007...'. -Eurythmics: Maybe they were on and I can't remember, but Here Comes the Rain Again has the triple threat of strings, cold synths, and Vocals that music journalists eat up. -Set Adrift on Memory Bliss: Another song that would matter more in the 2010's than the 2000's. -Soul II Soul. -Fast Car by Tracy Chapman. -Tennessee by Arrested Development. -Bronski Beat- They definitely were at least due a mention in one of the genre lists. -Don't Change by INXS. -Eyes Without a Face by Billy Idol. -Heaven or Las Vegas- They had another Cocteau Twins song but this could have been on too, if not replace the other one. -In the Air Tonight- At this point this is just my favorite songs by people I only know one song by but anyway -Free Falling- The only (well one of the only) Degrassi titles here. -Pictures of You. -Tom's Diner- Either the remix or the original. -Cherry Blossom Girl by Air.
In spite of being a little lost through the first half of the book, this was fascinating. Sure, Pitchfork is self-righteous, pretentious, and somewhat of a villain (in my eyes at least), but when they do lists, I am in love.
The first half was difficult because I know nothing of obscure music during the late 70s and all through the 80s. Once I got to the best songs of the 90s and beyond though, it was a very enjoyable read, as I knew and even loved the majority of the songs they covered in this timeframe.
Perhaps I would have chosen some different songs throughout the book, but this represents Pitchfork, so I'm not surprised how this went.
It's good to know that my standards are aligned with Pitchfork, although there tendency to revolve around a holier than thou mentality and their inabilities to discuss songs properly vastly weaken this work. I'm still not sold on the importance of Italo disco or IDM, or T.I. for that matter. It can't be just me.
Now that listening to all the tunes in this book is now as simple as streaming a Spotify playlist, this book is a low-cost addition that adds a lot of value if you want to learn more about the history of pop music, through the brief write=ups accompanying each song. I worked my way through the book over several years, listening to chunks of about a dozen tracks at a time that I was unfamiliar with.
The book is organized chronologically and covers pop music between 1977 and 2006. It’s a good continuation from either Rolling Stone’s 500 best songs, which is heavily weighted towards the classic rock canon from the 1950s to the 1970s, or Dave Marsh’s “The Heart of Rock and Soul” which attempts to identify the 1000 best songs from about 1955 to 1988. An alternative playlist which you can also find on Spotify that covers roughly the same time period as the Pitchfork book is “Blender 500 Greatest Songs Since You Were Born” (no book for that one though). The Blender list is ranked as opposed to chronological, and is probably a stronger overall collection of songs, leaning more towards well-known classics than the Pitchfork list.
I thought this Pitchfork list was a good balance across genres and a mix of songs I knew (maybe ½ to 2/3 of the picks) and songs I didn’t. Not all of the new ones were good, and in fact there were probably more misses than hits. Certainly too many extended dance remixes and electronica for my taste, but these lists are supposed to introduce you to something new. Sidebars on niche genres provide many more obscure tunes not officially part of the 500, if you want to dive deeper into the rabbit hole.
Some great songs I learned about from this book: “Street Hassle” – Lou Reed (1977), “Human Fly” – The Cramps (1979), “Uptown Top Ranking” – Althea and Donna (1977), “Fisherman” – The Congos (1977), “Jingo” – Candido (1979), “Suspiria” – Goblin (1977), “Ca plane pour moi” – Plastic Bertrand (1977), “Third Uncle” – Bauhaus (1982), “The Day Before You Came” – ABBA (1981), “That’s When I Reach for My Revolver” – Mission of Burma (1981), “Cities in Dust” – Siouxsie and the Banshees (1985), “This Must Be the Place” – Talking Heads (1983), “Kerosene” – Big Black (1986), “Tempo” – Anthony (Red) Rose, “Human Cannonball” – Butthole Surfers (1987), “Head On” – Jesus and Mary Chain (1989), “Emma’s House” – The Field Mice (1988), “Little Fluffy Clouds” – The Orb (1990), “Some Things Last a Long Time” – Daniel Johnson (1990), “Dominator (Joey Beltram Mix)” – Human Resource, “Ring the Alarm Quick” – Tenor Saw/Buju Banton, “I am a Scientist” – Guided by Voices (1994), “I Got 5 On It” – Luniz (1995), “Cross Bones Style” – Cat Power (1997), “Teenage Spaceship” – Smog (1999), “Waitin’ for a Superman” – Flaming Lips (1999), “Weak Become Heroes” - The Streets (2002), “The Way That He Sings” – My Morning Jacket (2001), “3rd Planet” – Modest Mouse (2000), “Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect” – The Decembrists (2002), “Grindin’” – Clipse (2002), “No Children” - The Mountain Goats (2003), “Where Have All the Rude Boys Gone?” – Ted Leo and the Pharmacists (2003), “Mushaboom” – Feist (2004), “You are the Generation That Bought More Shoes and You Get What You Deserve” – Johnny Boy (2004), “Dream On” – Christian Falk (2006), “Boy From School” – Hot Chip (2006).
Basically a ripoff of Garry Mulholland’s This is Uncool, but I enjoy write-ups and reviews that reflect what was in the air of a certain time, ala a lot of random, forgotten indie stuff getting put in here like Beirut, Fiery Furnaces, etc. and a line for some reason calling The Lox “hip-hop losers” lol. Very fun read if you can find it.
[Update:] A few highlights of the music this book pointed out that I am willing to admit I missed and/or overlooked on the first run:
Minutemen - History Lesson, Pt. 2
Old R.E.M. - this probably has more to do with my wife's request that I obtain R.E.M.'s back catalogue through approximately 1992 than this book. Either way, I missed R.E.M. in their salad days.
Big Black - Kerosene. One of the dudes from Volcano Choir recently stated something to the effect that this is his ring tone and will likely remain so for eternity. I can understand why.
Fugazi - I think I was too young to appreciate Fugazi in their prime. Definitely worth revisiting. See, eg., Waiting Room and Merchandise.
Young Marble Giants - Final Day
The Replacements - Bastards of Young.
Arab Strap - The First Big Weekend.
Drive Like Jehu - Luau.
The Vaselines - Son of a Gun . Covered by Nirvana, but the original is better.
Billy Bragg - A New England. I will readily admit that I didn't know about this dude until Wilco played with him.
Tom Waits - Jockey Full of Bourbon.
Elliot Smith - Needle in the Hay.
GZA - 4th Chamber. Okay, I didn't miss this one. If you were ever behind the I-mark I drove in college you would know this. Regardless, it had been years since I heard this song. A great Wu product.
Bonnie Prince Billy (see, e.g., I see a Darkness) and Palace Music. This is the music you could drink yourself to death with. Great stuff. Makes Uncle Tupelo sound downright uplifting.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - -- - - - - - -
The contributers at Pitchfork are obviously way too cool for school most days. I understand that these people eat, sleep, and shit indie music for what i assume is a fairly meager living, but they really take music snobbery to a whole new level. Seriously--in order to properly review this book I will have no choice but to single-handedly fund a bailout of the Russian economy. The side tangents I have already explored with my digital imports as a result of this book all but ensure that there will be a steady supply of triple distilled vodka for every man woman and child in Moscow.
My proper review of this book is likely to include sections devoted to both the most obscure and the most unlistenable songs of the Pitchfork 500. Einstürzende Neubauten's "Halber Mensch" will almost certainly feature prominently in both sections. If they aren't already playing this song at Gitmo, I say crank it up. Napalm Death's "Twist the Knife (Slowly)" and Darkthrone's "En As I Dype Skogen" would also be nice additions to the Gitmo soundtrack.
One thing this book does have going for it is that for the most part the hip hop selections are solid (at least in my humble and extremely white opinion).* The one possible exception is T.I.'s "What You Know." That being said, I guess it is marginally necessary to document the crunk movement in some manner.
*But for this list, it is entirely possible that I would have gone to my grave without knowing that I had lost my copy of Ice Cube's Predator.
WOW! It is entirely possible that I will never be able to give this book a proper review. Does anyone happen to have Dinosaur's "Kiss Me Again" laying around in their music collection. It is entirely possible that it is only available on vinyl. If that is the case, can you do me another favor and rip it to mp3. I will need to procure and listen to that and 10 other songs unavailable from either Moscow or Steve Jobs to properly complete this review. In the meantime I will be sitting here trying to figure out why I don't get completely hot and bothered for Pavement.
The insatiable desire to canonize reached epic proportions this year with the crowning of Animal Collective’s Merriweather Post Pavilion as the best album of 2009 a mere few weeks into the calendar year. The absurdity of this kind of declaration would be laughable if it wasn’t indicative of an overwhelming contemporary impulse for incessant categorization and list making. This type of dialogue can be an instructive exercise, especially in a medium like the internet that allows a bidirectional exchange of ideas that works to combat the exercise’s tendency towards a meaningless exertion of one’s cultural capital in the face of others. What the world does not need is yet another hegemonic cultural instructor looking to rewrite the book of classics, a tradition handed down from its currently irrelevant print forbearers like Rolling Stone and Spin. As an avid reader, what’s made Pitchfork such an exciting and exceedingly relevant publication is its ability to be creative in the face of new technology while remaining at the forefront of the shifting nature of musical criticism. It’s disappointing then to see the site wade into the overcrowded pool of coffee table anthologies, even if its pages dedicates space to less obvious touchstones than The Talking Heads and David Bowie. From its self-selecting time period criteria to the overtly snarky sidebars (say what you will about the site’s reviews, they are never as condescending as they are here), the list itself offers fans of the site little additional insight while newcomers are slighted with pithy commentary that Pitchfork’s online content has always avoided. The mere creation of a book seems like an odd and unnecessary bid for respectability and validation within the old guard of publishing, especially in the face of Pitchfork’s savvy harnessing of new media. One of the great virtues (and faults) of the Internet is in its constant ability to revisit and revise, creating a body of work that is constantly in motion. Since the structure of the site itself has remained non-participatory in the face of universal and unending discourse on blogs, Pitchfork has perpetuated an aura of elitism in its dogmatic formation of an endless parade of infallible and meaningless lists, this being no exception. In the words of Ian MacKaye, “We don’t need any more old ideas. We have plenty of those.”
Look, when any 'zine publishes "their canon" there's bound to be a ton of butthurt about it, but as far as they go Pitchfork's is, begrudgingly as it may be to admit, the best of the lot - certainly hand over first ahead of Rolling Stones' own rockist cum-stained penta-centurion.
Pitchfork have earned their place as the preeminent 21st century tastemakers. They spent a lot of the last decade making a number of ballsy cultural calls that paid off, paying forgotten dues where they were owed, and opened the doors to whole other spheres of music journalism with their avant-garde, gonzo approach to criticism and eclectic tastes. More often than not pretentious, arrogant, and snotty - the current musical landscape would be a whole lot different without them and their oft-kilter canon is more a victory lap than anything else, but it's certainly worth the read.
Not sure why the other reviews have slagged this book. I think it does a very good job of picking songs that trace the evolution of underground rock, electronic, and hip-hop music from their origins to their current state. Being a bit of a music-obsessed nerd, I tracked down each of the songs that I didn't already have (about 250) and listened to them, which made me admire the job they did in compiling the list even more. The criticism/description of each song was also quite good. I found their electronic/dance songs to be particularly great. Sure, I disagreed with a few of their picks, but that is a minor complaint. Overall a very good read for anyone into music beyond what you would hear on your radio or in your parents record collection
A pretty no-frills presentation... not what you'd expect given the lovely visuals of the book's parent website. Nonetheless, I was chipping away at this book over the past two years, imposing on myself that I would not only read through it, but listen to every one of the 500 songs. It's a nice accomplishment, and I made some really interesting musical discoveries. Kudos to all the deep dark corners of the Internet. There are some songs that really cannot be gained through traditional means, even through regular online channels. But there was a YouTube or a blog post about everyone of these songs.
Now, would I be motivated to tackle the book 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die?
Once I've listened to all the songs written about in this book, I'll be able to tell you if this survey is as myopic as the daily Pitchfork download and its "who is the bigger hipster" popularity contest. But on first read, I'm impressed with the range of music noted here, even if at times the selection seems willfully ignorant of touchstone singles because the bands were more popular when they released them. (Music critics are a notoriously cranky lot and always are trying to establish the obscure sophistication of their taste.) What's nice is that the writing does express unabashed love for the music it speaks of, and that emotion comes through even in the most cerebral of the entries.
Nifty quasi-alternative take on the past 30 or so years of music. As can be expected from the gang at Pitchfork (Basically the online equivalent of Spin or Rolling Stone for the indie-rock set) the list includes a lot of non-mainstream gems. This probably isn't the most useful guide--there's not much here that Pitchfork fans don't already know and for more pedestrian music fans, much of the stuff is too far afield to arouse their curiosity--but the entries are lively and I found it fun to be brought back to some forgotten gems from days gone by. Far from essential, but still fun.
Awww, yeah - this was one of the best gifts under the tree for me this Christmas. The indie-rock-leaning music website Pitchfork.Com has put together their list of the best songs from 1977 to the present. Musicians on the list range from obscure (This Heat), to cult (Throbbing Gristle), to mainstream (Kelly Clarkson). Each song is given an insightful short critique, while sub-lists (such as "The Songs That Ended it All") will make music lovers smile. Pick this up and watch your iTunes budget disappear.
A good book for the bathroom or the coffee table. It has a lot of great info about some of the most important artist in musical history from 1977 to present (2009, I think).
It covers a lot of stuff that most of us may have missed, giving a broad perspective of the overall landscape of music and it's progression up until now.
I really enjoyed this book. It's a casual read, and it's one of those books that I read when I needed to kill some time. It was fun to see what records I had that were mentioned throughout the book. I would recommend this to casual music fans that want to get deeper into music, and also to serious music fans that just enjoy reading about music.
It's cool to find some great songs you never heard and read other people's thoughts about the ones you have. Good to read when you have some time to kill.
For some reason, I wish there was some photos, though.
Despite Pitchfork's pretentious attitude, I learned alot about less-than-mainstream music in a song-by-song format that is well-suited to itunes culture. This collection lended me a new perspective with which to view music from the late seventies to 2006.
I find pitchfork to be the snobby record store kid you sort of want to punch in the face. but this book is good. there aren't alot of things like this out and it is well organized and well written. you don't have to agree with everything, much like any book, to see the value.