Carl Wilson (1)

Not only the best book of the 33 1/3 series, but, in my opinion, the best book of musical criticism ever written, which is high praise, indeed.

Let's Talk About Love, as an album, is only ostensibly the subject of this excellent long essay about the exclusive nature of musical taste, and the fact that unlike with nearly every other form of criticism, musical communities and their insularity are defined more by the music they dislike than by the music they do.

And this leads to a discussion of show more what exactly it is about Dion's music that sets so many teeth on edge, as well as why it so appeals to an opposite group of people.

It is just a really fantastic book that I had to put down to process every so often, and still, often, when I am contemplating or writing about my reaction to art, the internalized voice of Wilson suggests that I make sure my reactions are considered carefully.

Not at all what I expected, but better than I ever could have hoped. show less

I take a sort of guilty pleasure in pop music journalism, much like I take a sort of guilty pleasure in pop music itself. I say "sort of", because in my mind there really isn't anything guilty about it. Pop music is wonderful, though in its own way, and in a way incommensurate with how we assess most other forms of music. Yet this sui generis status is of course no reason to dismiss pop, or to shy away from evaluating it on its own terms. The problem is just that this is so rarely done show more well.

Carl Wilson's Let's Talk About Love is in this case the exception that proves the rule. Ostensibly another entry in the 33⅓ series, Wilson's book actually turns the series on its head, casting a critical eye on the much-maligned ultra-middlebrow pop diva Céline Dion and her 1997 mega-album, "Let's Talk About Love" (as the back cover reminds us, "the one with that Titanic song on it"). Yet rather than simply writing a review and critique of the record, Wilson uses the figure of Céline as a springboard from to examine the deep philosophical and aesthetic issues that pop music raises. How can an artist be simultaneously so widely detested and adored? Where does the appeal of Céline and her kin come from? Can one come to like music one initially hates? And what does Céline's music have to contribute to our lives?

These are some of the toughest and most intriguing questions of pop criticism, and they are the questions that occupy the heart of Wilson's book. Wilson may not offer many definitive answers, but his reflections are always entertaining, erudite, and eye-opening. And while I cannot say that the book made me into a Céline fan (of course, that's not its point), it did make me think twice about how I perceive her and other pop artists I hate (and that very much is its point). This is clearly not a book that everyone will be into, but for someone like me, it don't get much better than this. show less

Como crítico musical en mis ratos libres, que son casi todos, este libro me parece fundamental. Quizá haya llegado un poco tarde a mi vida, porque a estas alturas estoy de acuerdo con prácticamente todo lo que se dice, cosa que no era cierta hace unos meses.

Celine Dion es una excusa para desentrañar el enigma del gusto. ¿Por qué es más aceptable preferir a Led Zeppelin que a Christina Aguilera? ¿Se puede decir que una cosa es impepinable mejor que la otra? El libro es un viaje show more personal de alguien que empieza como hater de Celine y que acaba aceptando su existencia e incluso admirándola un poco.

Sin querer spoilear las conclusiones del experimento, las razones de las distinciones en gustos son principalmente sociales: nos gusta lo que queremos que forme parte de nuestra personalidad, algo que nos permita unirnos a la gente a la que queremos unirnos y separarnos de la gente que queremos separarnos. Los más elitistas no quieren (¿queremos?) que su imagen pública vaya unida a obras sentimentales o superpopulares que van asociadas a la gente que odian. Tienen sus artistas intocables y cualquiera que no esté de acuerdo no tiene ni idea, y ya.

El último capítulo es un resumen increíble de las tesis del libro: igual no se trata de convencer a la gente de qué es mejor y qué es peor, si no de entender qué puede atraer a ciertos sectores de ciertos artistas. Que no se puede convertir la estética en predicción: esto es bueno porque dentro de treinta años va a seguir siendo relevante. Qué sabes tú lo que va a pasar en treinta años. Imbécil.

Y que el trabajo de los críticos no es, por lo tanto hacer propaganda de su apreciación estética personal, que para eso ya están los likes y dislikes del YouTube. Se trata de contextualizar, de evaluar expectativas, de comprender en qué marco se aprecia mejor el objeto de crítica (me encanta que defina el indie rock como "música cuyo propósito es ser juzgada estéticamente"). Básicamente ser menos reservados y abrirnos a nuevas experiencias: abandonar la vergüenza. Como Celine. show less

In this, the best 33 1/3 book that I've read, Wilson explores his own dislike for Dion and what she means for the Quebecois, the aesthetics of her music and the background that lead to his own tastes.