Do you like good music? The myth of objectivity and the problems of the canon
“Do you like good music?” — Seems like a silly question really. I’m hardly going to say I like bad music. It reminds me of a bit some comedian used to do about going to the hairdressers. “Going anywhere nice on holiday this year?” “Well, I thought about it, and on reflection decided to go somewhere shit instead”
“That sweet soul music?” Well, there you are. You’re already deciding that only one particular genre of music qualifies as good. What about if I like that sweet rock music, or that sweet reggae music, or that sweet grindcore music?
I suppose what I’m getting at is, what constitutes good music? Jimi Hendrix famously said “there are only two types of music, good and bad”. What he really meant was “there are two types of music, music you subjectively think is good, and music you subjectively think is bad, and possibly a third type of music which you’re indifferent to” (but that wasn’t quite as pithy).
My own ideas about what constitutes good music were first informed by the music press. From the age of 8, when I became interested in music, to about the age of 13, I just liked whatever music I liked. I had no idea of what music was considered good, or cool. My favourite songs included Status Quo, Erasure, Nirvana, Annie Lennox and Double Trouble & Rebel MC. Then aged 13 I started reading the NME, and suddenly had a quite specific idea of what music was considered cool. I’m not saying it changed my taste, at least not knowingly, but I was definitely aware. It made me ignore some bands, like Tindersticks (a band I now love) who were mocked for the singers mumbly voice. I was also going through adolescence, and defined myself by my musical taste in lieu of an actual personality. I cared deeply about music, but also about what other people thought about my taste in music.
Cripes, I read a lot of music papers and magazines in those days. Every issue of Melody Maker and NME, plus Q & Select & Vox, and later on Uncut & Word. All of these magazines had an awful lot of lists, and a lot of these lists were of the greatest albums of all time, and all of these lists were very similar, and this is how I came to have an idea of a musical canon. If all of these different writers agreed that Sgt. Pepper (or maybe OK Computer if they were feeling bold) was the greatest album of all time, surely there must be some truth to it.
Sure, there might have been other records that I personally liked more, but I’d listened to a lot of albums from the canon, and generally liked them (unless they were Led Zeppelin) and understood why they were important and influential, so I kind of assumed that the lists were objectively correct in some way. It honestly never occurred to me at the time that all of these lists were written by white men of a certain age from the UK and the US, and therefore were full of the records that white men from the UK and the US like, which just happens to be mainly records made by white men from the UK and US, during the years the writers were aged 13 to 35.
Over time though, I couldn’t help but notice that these lists were lacking something. Notably women, and people of colour. There might be a token Joni Mitchell or Stevie Wonder record in there, or Public Enemy if they were really adventurous, but not a lot else. They also didn’t tend to include music from outside the English speaking western world, or music from pre-1965.
It might seem self evident to a lot of people that The Beatles are the best, most important band of all time. Take a step back though, and it really isn’t that obvious that they’re more talented or influential than say Nina Simone or The Carter Family. If you’re from India, it might seem just as self evident that A.R. Rahman or Asha Bhosle are the greatest musicians of all time. If you came of age during the jazz era it might be Louis Armstrong, or John Coltrane or Miles Davis. If you’re a classical music fan then The Beatles probably seem embarrassingly basic compared to Bach or Beethoven.
I gradually stopped believing in any kind of objectivity to these lists, and over time became a hardcore subjectivist, believing that there’s no piece of music that you can objectively say is better than any other. I may believe that “Shipbuilding” as performed by Robert Wyatt is the most sublime piece of music of all time, and ‘No Way, No Way’ by Vanilla, is the most dreadful piece of novelty crap that I could dredge up from the depths of my brain, but I can’t objectively say it’s better. Because how can you measure how good a piece of music is?
By popularity? — I don’t think anyone would seriously suggest that the most popular music is necessarily the best, not least because popularity itself is so fickle and difficult to measure. Did “We Don’t Talk about Bruno” from the Encanto soundtrack suddenly become the greatest song of all time for a month in January 2022? My children would say yes, most adults would say absolutely not.
By virtuosity? If so, most classical and jazz music would be automatically considered better than most rock music. Louie Louie is a piece of music so simple that even I can almost play it, but I suspect a lot of people would agree that it’s a better record than anything put out by Yngwie Malmsteen, whose technical ability I couldn’t match if I practiced for a million years.
By influence? There are plenty of great bands that were hardly influential at all, and bands who influenced lots of others that were terrible. I would say two of the most genuinely influential singles of the last 25 years are ‘Music Sounds Better With You’ by Stardust and ‘I’m Sprung’ by T-Pain, each changing the direction of modern pop music, but I’m not sure many people would be prepared to argue they’re objectively the best songs of that era.
How ‘good’ a song is depends a lot on context anyway. ‘Maggot Brain’ by Funkadelic is one of my favourites of all time, but it wouldn’t be ideal for a first dance at a wedding or a school disco. I love ‘Minesweeper Suite’ by DJ/Rupture, but I wouldn’t put it on during a relaxing bubble bath.
Despite all this, there still seem to be plenty of music writers and people on social media who will insist that one band or song is objectively better than another. Admittedly, this is often tongue in cheek, a way of emphasising their love for the music, but often they genuinely seem to believe it. Honestly, I kind of understand it. When you really love music, you want to believe there’s inherently more value to the music you like, and that you and the people like you are the only ones who truly see it. Everybody wants to think they’re a connoisseur, an expert, with unusually fine taste (I know I do). Nobody wants to believe their tastes in music are subjective, affected by the vagaries of life, our culture and upbringing, the tastes of the friends and family who expose us to music, and the gatekeepers who control what we hear (even if those gatekeepers are more likely to be the people who write the algorithms for Spotify than the radio DJs and NME writers of my youth).
It’s hard to let go of the idea of a canon. Even now I feel slightly ridiculous saying that ‘Introducing Cadallaca’ by Cadallaca is a better album than say Revolver or Pet Sounds, or that I like it more, even though I very much do. And there’s nothing wrong with listening to these greatly acclaimed bands and records from the canon. Go listen to the Beatles, Stones, The Who. You might really like them, they’re pretty popular! Just don’t let it stop you exploring other music. Don’t feel there are certain records you have to listen to. Don’t feel like you’re in the wrong if you don’t like them. And if you think Carcass, or Half Man Half Biscuit, or Little Mix, or Orchestra Baobab are the greatest band of all time, don’t be afraid to say so.
Do you like good music? You do. By definition the music you like is good, for you (or maybe even Good 4 You), so all you need to do is enjoy it.
Originally published at http://colourthecortex.wordpress.com on July 12, 2022.
