Rolling Stone Album Guide
I bought "The New Rolling Stone Album Guide" one week ago, a seemingly simple anecdote which contains much deeper philosophical debate on an almost Faustian level. A statement I will obviously have to explain...behold the explanation:
To tell the story I have to start almost 12 years ago when I was a veritable music newbie obsessed with collecting the entire Aerosmith pantheon and thinking Young M.C. was the dope "crap". My sister obtained a copy of the '92 guide and I was fascinated by these new, seemingly intelligent examinations of music. Paul Evans & J.D. Consadine became my new heroes, having endless knowledge of music and filling the pages with witty rejoinders. The world of the rock critic had opened in front of me in all its bewildering glory.
Soon I, or more appropriately my sister, was a Columbia House/BMG addict ordering in albums ordained by my one critical guide as the best rock had to offer. Such great albums as 10,000 Maniacs: In My Tribe & Warren Zevon: Warren Zevon to name a couple. Although I could never figure what was so wonderful about Warren Zevon's debut I supposed a fount of musical knowledge was needed to understand the depths with which it's greatness was hidden from the average listener.
By 1996 I had acquired several new “album guides”, most of which seemed to admire completely different albums save perhaps 200, a confusing development in acquiring a large musical collection. What is a cash strapped music lover supposed to do when faced with an arena of confusing opinion other than delve even deeper into criticism in hopes of understanding it; which is what I did for 4 years, snapping up any resource with even the slightest bit of information.
As time wore on "The Rolling Stone Album Guide" seemed like the worst guide for any music lover to acquire. Containing conservative ratings, tiny reviews of mostly established artists and shunning daring, independent bands for the most part. The guide could be described as "criticism on autopilot". When they do venture to review unusual artists the recommendations can be frightening if not disastrously misleading, i.e. Hunters & Collectors Ghost Nation is a pretty bad album. The main offender is a critic who we shall call "JDC" a proponent of the unsightly review and main reason for the books ultimate failure. One example would be his slander of Boogie Down Productions with pitifully clichéd reviews and bad ratings while lavishing Bobby Brown with praise. His hundreds of reviews have not aged gracefully with time and he now seems like an incompetent critic of questionable taste.
Given that, and a slight masochistic streak, I of course wanted to by the new edition...
I spent too much money on the RS 2004 Edition, I knew it and surely the money hungry cashier knew it, grabbing the Visa like a vulture descending upon a poor defenceless prey. It's very satisfying to be the village idiot every once in a while, it reminds you that you're just like everyone else. Soon the pain was over and I lugged away my purchase, imagining cracking the spine and discovering a review of some hidden masterpiece that would change my entire perspective, even, perhaps my life. Such is the plight of audiophile addict and a source of constant disappointment.
The first thing I noticed was the larger group of critics contributing reviews and a wider ranging reappraisal of earlier reviews. Thankfully hip-hop/rap has been pried from the dastardly hands of JDC and given to someone more understanding of the genre. Yet the guide still seems to be stuck in a rut of conservative ratings, tiny cryptic reviews and although the reappraisal of the eighties has been done the guide doesn't delve deep enough into the nineties and certainly not the new century. It seems stuck in same old rut, confused and bewildered by the present and confident only with the distant past. JDC and his 92 cohorts return to completely change their minds on most of the earlier reviews, a sign of good sense on their part and certainly a reason to take their reviews with a grain of salt. To the editor(s)’ credit this edition is certainly not a calamity on the level of it’s predecessor.
In a world of almost constant disappointment one wishes for something tangible and fantastic, no matter how silly the context, unfortunately The New Rolling Stone Album Guide isn't it.
Stook
I am trying desperately to remember the name of the "encyclopedia" of rock that I used to have. It was something like "The Something Guide to Rock & Roll." The "Something" also had guides to Jazz and Country music which I also owned. (That's two distinct other guides, not one hellish abomination.)
The rock & roll guide was just comprehensive enough to satisfy and inform in a basic way, it listed a basic discography for most artists, it had both American and British chart listings for an artist's single releases as well as a fair amount of pictures.
What was really nifty was the dozen or more rock group "family trees." They showed the inter-related membership history of several groups of bands in simple, easy to read graphics. It was really cool. It showed who quit (how many times), when the bands broke up and then reformed, who got kicked out, who went solo, who replaced who... When laid out on the page like that the history of Fleetwood Mac was fascinating and (finally!) comprehensible.
To my recollection the best tangled web of musicians was the Steve Winwood-Eric Clapton cauldron of bands and associated groups. I admit that my memory might be squishing together two separate geneaologies 'cause that was a whole lotta bands. Spencer Davis Group, Traffic, Blind Faith, John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, The Yardbirds, Cream, Delaney & Bonnie and Friends, Derek and the Dominoes, both solo careers. Roots and branches sprung from the Allman Bros., the Beatles, Joe Cocker's Mad Dogs & Englishmen, the Rolling Stones...
The funniest and most endearing thing about it was that it listed Robbie Robertson as having died of an overdose in a Paris hotel room in 1986. That's so close to the truth that it might as well be.