This is a review of Bartees Strange’s Farm to Table. But it is also a review of the standard of music criticism nowadays, the endgame of poptimism, the disinterest in cultivation of taste; or at the very least—a severe lack of variation in ideas. Monoculture is of course, all but dead. But the way music journalism operates, the search for the next big thing, the holding of sacred cows, has me suspect that far too many writers still want to treat music as a manufacturer of celebrity, in the same vein of the blog hype days. At the intersection of this menagerie of pandering is Bartees Strange, the summation of what this has led to.
I don't have much to say about farm to table fr, mainly cuz I haven't listened to it enough times to really get a handle on it, but Live Forever, both in studio and live fucking rips
thank you for writing this.
I don't have much to say about farm to table fr, mainly cuz I haven't listened to it enough times to really get a handle on it, but Live Forever, both in studio and live fucking rips