Well, kids, it seems that this week in Internet land if it’s not a post whining about those Radiohead downloads, it’s one about Alex Ross, about buying Alex Ross’s book, or one thanking Alex Ross for mentioning them in the New Yorker. Seriously. At least you don’t find that sort of thing on these pages.
Fellow critics, possibly driven mad with jealousy, strived to recapture some attention. Sasha played the race card and stirred up the CMJ kids. Tim tried to seduce with a poem. And Tony, possibly also reaching for a Pulitzer, explained twelve-tone music, complete with YouTube-ish video. Not to be outdone by mere critics in this bid for mass appeal, Yefim Bronfman put on his best orange suit and rolled his concert grand into Grand Central Station.
Elsewhere, critics were looking more carefully at pop music than you might have imagined. Sadly, so was Homeland Security. The New York Phil was also getting friendly with the State Department, triggered by this visit to North Korea. Morricone was having less fun in Seoul. Maybe he should have brought along the Ukulele Orchestra? (It’s a British thing, apparently.)