blankspace.gif
I am Y.P.R.'s Boring Logo
The Journal of Literary Satire | Hastilly Written & Sloppilly Edited
Syndicate

RSD | RSS I | RSS II | Atøm | Spanish

Shop
Bea!
Support Submit
Submit
From the Y.P.aRchives Fun, Fickle Fiction (for Free!) Fact, Opinion, Essay, & Review Spectacular Features, Calendrical Happenings, Media Gadflies Poetry & Lyric Advice, How To, & Self-Help Listicles Semi-Frequent Columns Letter from the Editors Disquieting Modern Trends Interviews Interviews with Interviewers One-Question Interviews The Book Club Media Gadflies Calendrical Happenings Roasts Correspondence (Letters To and Letters From) Letters from Y.P.R. Letters to Y.P.R. Birthday Cards to Celebrities Pop Stars in Hotel Rooms Shreek of the Week of the Day Polish Facts: An Antidote to the Polish Joke The Y.P.aRt Gallery Illustrious Illustration Photography Photomontage Graphic Design Logo Gallery What's Up with That? Fuit Salad Nick's Guff Vermont Girl The M_methicist Daily Garfield Digest New & Noteworthy Contributors' Notes Et Cetera, Et Cetera, Et Cetera The Y.P.aRchives
Creative
Commons License
This journal is licensed under a Creative Commons License and powered by Movable Typo 4.01.
Crockpot!
© MMIII—MMVIII,
Y.P.R. & Co.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Sasha Frere-Jones, music critic


Y.P.R.

1. You’re in a time machine that’s powered by musical zeitgeist: it can traverse the time-space continuum, but its landing coordinates can only be programmed for, say, Manchester, late 70s, or Seattle, circa 1991, etc. Which music scene would you visit, and why?

S/FJ

I’m afraid I wouldn’t get into the machine. I like confronting the present moment. I am here and have been here for a while. This means I have a good shot at keeping track of the many factors that frame and squeeze music into social and aesthetic places. Another time and place might appeal to me, but I’d simply project my fantasies onto the artifacts of that time. I am also fairly committed to checking nostalgia, inasmuch as it is a necessary function of life and needs to be reserved for that purpose. In criticism, nostalgia is deadly acid death juice. 99% of the time, it is simply an excuse to avoid the present, wax lovey dovey about youth (which was pretty great, I admit) and abandon critique. I think people should absolutely do that and have a beer and celebrate the moments of their lives. I do it all the time. At home. But critics need to check that shit. If forced, I would go back to the early 80s in New York to do some fact-checking.

Sasha Frere-Jones is a music critic for The New York Times, The New Yorker, and elsewhere. He keeps a Web log at S/FJ.