There is a “Neo-New-Journalism” creeping into the culture industry. Rather than imply the kind of ironic detachment that marked the “New Journalism,” this genre of critique is marked by a psychoanalytical tone that embraces what the New Critics described as the “intentional” and “affective” fallacies. The New Criticism’s ideological underpinnings were conservative at heart. Excising the author’s intentions and reader’s reception from aesthetic judgment removed the possibility of laminating an ideological reading on the art-object-in-itself, what Cleanth Brooks called the “Well Wrought Urn.” Ironically, what the New Critical strategy of close reading produced was a way of reading integral to postmodern ideological theory.
Instead of focusing on the artifact, in this case, the musical aspects of the Stone Temple Pilots' concert at the PNC Bank Arts Center last Saturday night, the New York Times reviewer, Nate Chinen, gives us a psychological assessment of Scott Weiland--past, present, and future. What the New Critics saw as non-essential to aesthetic judgment, intention and reception, provide the basis for Chinen’s analysis.
So how was the concert? All we can take from Chinen’s review is an assessment of Weiland’s psychological state. It’s not the music that’s “bedraggled and bushed,” it’s Weiland. He sees Weiland’s lack of dialogue with the audience as “probably a good thing,” as if the probable is a given predicated on Chinen’s subjective assessment. Describing Weiland’s opening comments as “barely coherent” and “dispiriting,” he parses Weiland’s comment that “Sometimes you make crazy choices” as a confessional, rather than general, comment on coming of age in a post-grunge pop culture where all apologies are the rage.
Chinen’s contention that Weiland’s tone was “distinctly undefiant” sets the table for what turns out to be a review of Scott Weiland’s personal troubles, rather than a Stone Temple Pilots concert. Alluding to the summer tour, and not the concert at hand, allows Chinen’s easy conclusion that “Mr. Weiland might not be able to “hold it together that long.” Unable to disguise his own speculative apologia, Chinen writes, “that may sound callous, but it has to be a genuine concern for the band.”
I guess it’s critical omniscience that informs Chinen’s conclusion that bass player Robert DeLeo’s acceptance of Weiland’s apology for the long delay in taking the stage was meant to “quickly change the subject and hustle on with the show.” Oh, by the way, only later does Chinen add, “It’s anyone’s guess whether Weiland was the cause for the long delay.” One wonders why, if Weiland’s drug problems are “public knowledge,” Chinen feels it his duty to rehash them here. Thank you, Mr. Chinen, for alerting us to Weiland’s “unfinished business.” It’s critically relevant that we know about the upcoming “eight day jail sentence” Weiland must serve for his “arrest last year on charges of driving under the influence.”
Regarding Weiland’s use of a megaphone as a stage device, Chinen writes, “[Weiland] often used a megaphone as a prop, or perhaps a crutch.” Chinen’s qualifiers, like “perhaps,” “may,” and “probably,” are handy rhetorical devices if one wants to speculate on a celebrity’s personal problems while disavowing any direct editorial culpability.
And finally, kudos, Mr. Chinen, on your caring concern for “Mr. Weiland’s well-being.” I’m sure the entire band embraces your “hope for the tour.” Citing Weiland’s lyric that “I’m not dead and I’m not for sale,” as having “at least one statement [that] remains true” is, no doubt, a reliable indicator of the depth of your concern.
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2 comments:
The dangers of celebrity in the new modern age. I find it comforting to know Mr. Weiland has a job. For all the other people suffering unemployment due to past infractions I wonder how they feel about Weiland's dirty laundry. I agree the music is what should be critiqued not the personal life of the singer. I hope Mr. Weiland's hard earned (fans) money will go for healthier pursuits in the future. I don't listen to his music but I wish him the best.
Regards from the thin white duchess and her unemployed entourage
gl
Let's all become drones; lets all work together in perfect harmony for the future of the state. Let's harness ourselves to the machinery of social engineering. Let's bow to the salacious tidbits that plump up our daily dish of schadenfreud.
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