The reviewer's review review

About eight months ago, I read a music review and was taken aback by the power of the horoscope. I'm not one to believe in astrology or anything, but I saw its appeal when I [once again] discovered empathy. [The review spoke to me because I forced associations between what was written, and events or feelings in my own life, hence the horoscope.] I thought it was Pitchfork's review of You Could Have It So Much Better, but upon rereading, it doesn't seem like the special review. [No, it was You Could Have It So Much Better, but on Stylus... I wonder if you understand why I felt this review understood me. It doesn't seem so special now...]

So, the stars are albums, and the music review is my horoscope.

Oh, no, I haven't heard the album yet. I was satisfied in having reviewed the reviews.

My new favourite/old favourite band, Phoenix, recently released their third album, It's Never Been Like That. Importantly, the webzines [and the real press] felt compelled to review it.

I feel compelled to review the reviews.

The fascist Vice magazine was my first experience. I was flicking through while waiting for breakfast in some crappy cafe in Surry Hills. Crap, crap, crap. They don't give many column inches to music reviews. Hundred words, at most. The quality? Again, crap, crap, crap. I know, they're being ironic when they say they can't like this band because they're French, but I sometimes feel like they really do hate the French. Vice are fascist haters. They liked this album though. I have no idea what the album sounds like. [That's a lie. I know what Phoenix sound like, I have an idea.]

Number two: Stylus, again. Unfortunately, the circumstances upon which I came across this review are unspectacular.

The most important thing to come out of this review is their stance on an older track:

They've already written and recorded "If I Ever Feel Better," one of the most resounding victories in the history of humanity's struggle to express all the contradictory impulses of love in under five minutes' time.

So you can't live up to past glories?

Well, the rest of this review is boring because it wastes my time reviewing their older albums, United and Alphabetical, and because it tells me what Phoenix sound like. I don't care. I already know.

Oh, no, here comes more review filler. It's just too easy to nitpick on the structure of an album [Um, excuse me, but I'd like to know the running time of this record before I buy it, because I equate length with value...]. Boring.

And it finishes off with an allusion to the band's nationality. It even goes so far as to compare it with that great North American nation. Is it preferable to be as blatant as Vice about your own xenophobia? At least, then, you know where you stand.

Three: Pitchfork. Again, unspectacular circumstances [procrastinating, if you need to ask].

Argh! This review just wants to namedrop!

• This review doesn't waste any time in revealing the country of origin.


• They had to mention Phoenix's connection with Air.


• In the space of one sentence, they reference Kid A, the Strokes, the Heartbreakers and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. [Or is that just me namedropping? Wank.]

The rest of this review is inconsequential.

At this point, I understand that it is a decent to good album, and that Phoenix have gone for a different sound. What the fuck does that actually tell me? I'll have to read more.

I'm yet to come across another portent to my future. A good review is once-in-a-lifetime [that's me namedropping Talking Heads].