Interesting tweets pinged forth recently from the estimable Ryan Schreiber, the founder/editor of the monstrously influential Pitchfork.
In these tweets, he expressed his change of heart over a slightly damning review of Daft Punk‘s Discovery that he wrote back in 2001.
He gave the album a very average score of 6.4, and criticised, amongst other things the repetitive nature of the lyrics and the fact that no-one had asked for a house-prog-rock hybrid, but now we had one anyway.
And now, this is how he feels about the LP:
I mean, there were times I was wildly off-base with my reviews, but Discovery is the only rating I can no longer find some way to justify.
A week later it was one of my favorite records of the year. And a month later, it was one of my favorite records of the decade.
And now it’s one of my favorite albums of all time. Like I probably won’t hear many albums in my life that I like more than that one.
I respect Ryan endlessly for what he has achieved with Pitchfork (and he’s a lovely guy, to boot). But it’s fascinating that my experience of Discovery is *exactly* opposite to his: I adored it in 2001, and now look upon it coolly, with something approaching distain.
It also made me think a bit about judgement.
I resisted Los Porcos for so long simply because, a) they are Wu Lyf minus the singer who huffed off, and, b) that’s it.
The Hipster Hullaballoo surrounding Wu Lyf was so intensely tiresome, I simply couldn’t bring myself to click “play” on the Los Porcos songs with titles like Jesus Luvs U Baby. I was hugely wrong. I feel remorse. This review is my Ryan Schreiber Tweet Moment.
Dear Los Porcos: an apology is due.
Jesus Luvs U Baby is simply excellent. It’s everything I wanted Wu Lyf’s music to be (but wasn’t). It’s gentle, thoughtful, arch, funky, lilting, dazzling, non-ironic, non-knowing, non-meta-post-whatever. It’s weirdly honest and joyful, and Prince-like in the best possible way.
Brilliant stuff. And sorry, again.
NB: Huge thanks to Jon The Beef for convincing me to listen to Los Porcos. I owe you one (or, as Los Porcos would say, I O Yu 1).