Nobody wants to be the person who gave Radiohead’s Kid A 3/10, but critics have to be more confidentmichael dornbierer

Music Critics come in all different kinds. Some choose to champion particular artists or genres, whilst others opt to survey a wide selection and recommend a small few to a general audience. It may be obvious to say that critics of all persuasions have a fundamental job requirement: to judge whether the music is actually any good or not. Yet something strange seems to be afoot in the world of music criticism. Writers are increasingly willing not only to withhold judgement on an album, but to presume that it is only a matter of time before its genius is revealed.

This is particularly true for the ‘big, serious’ artists; one need only look at some of the reactions to Frank Ocean’s recent Blonde album for example. Of Ocean’s reference points, The Guardian’s Joe Muggs said that they “slide in, signposting more and deeper themes which will only become apparent as we live with the album.” Similarly, Stereogum’s review consisted of praise and entreaties to the reader to give the album some time before seeing how great it is. This seems like more than just exhibiting patience; it’s giving an album the benefit of the doubt in expectation of it delivering. And it’s damaging for how we talk and think about music.

It’s hard to say what exactly has driven this trend. One factor may well be how common it is for major artists to eschew the traditional release schedule. Radiohead’s A Moon Shaped Pool, Beyonce’s Lemonade, and Kanye West’s Life of Pablo all dropped at a time when people weren’t expecting them, and the music press were just as much in the dark as the rest of us. Critics were then competing to be the first to have their say and to deliver their judgement. When a critic is under pressure to get something out, it’s understandable if they feel like they can’t say something with any certainty. This is no doubt exacerbated by the popularity of streaming services. When the public can listen to an album as soon as a critic, the pressure mounts for the critic to come up with something articulate.

There has always been an element of playing it safe amongst the press, though. No one wants to be Melody Maker, giving 3/10 to Radiohead’s Kid A – an album which went on to receive widespread acclaim. There’s a reason we see so many seven and eights given out (this writer being as guilty as any professional). Why stick your neck out on an album when your peers can very easily make you look wide of the mark?

Critics’ jobs have also been made harder by the complex, weighty subject matters that are increasingly the focus of bigger artists. Lemonade tackled everything from Beyonce’s marriage to the Black Lives Matter movement, whilst Kendrick Lamar’s ambitious To Pimp a Butterfly was wracked with self-doubt. Life of Pablo dealt with the seemingly no less complicated issue of what it means to be Kanye West in 2016. When our biggest artists are choosing to take on such difficult topics, surely we should cut critics a little slack. This is not music being produced with the intention of being received quickly and easily.

It’s clear then that music writers do not always have an easy job. Nevertheless, the response to these challenges should not be to presume that big artists have delivered magnificent opuses, and that we just need to wait it out a bit. For one, that removes probably the most important job for a critic: coming to some kind of conclusion as to how effective an album is. There is still room for commenting on how the album sounds, and exploring its themes, but we should not allow our critical senses to be dulled.

Both critics and the public alike should not take up the role of the adoring masses, putting the artist on some great pedestal. We should instead adopt a certain fearlessness when it comes to addressing major albums, and treat them in the same way we would a new artist. This seems fairer, and a truly great album should still reveal itself as one. Even if it is not, the artist’s former work stands independent of what they go on to produce; it does not have to be a comment on the artist as a whole.

It would be wrong to follow this argument to its absolute extreme, not least because you end up sounding like Noel Gallagher – not a position in which one wants to find themselves. Certain albums do require repeated listens over the long term. Indeed, Blonde’s ambiguities and complexities are only starting to reveal themselves. Patience should be welcomed, especially in this era of surprise releases. But throughout that time, we should always be asking questions of the work. Through this, we can only hope for a livelier debate and a constant challenging of what it means to be a great artist.