Think piece

A critique of critiques

A few Saturday thoughts on the way I have changed as a listener, on formats, authority bias and publicist induced Pavlovian reactions.
Trust your gut reactions: No, I haven't been on the Ozempic. And the scarf in the picture isn't even mine. But a few words nevertheless on how to avoid becoming a caricature of oneself. It's a stab at a few bien pensées - pardon my French - in the post-fat jab 'n' Suno - aye aye capt'n it's all AI, innit? - era.

Digital rather than physical

I don’t quite know when it happened. But some years ago I stopped listening to physical jazz entirely. Nowadays I only listen to streams usually via a Spotify subscription. I am not alone. But is that so wrong?

The statistics are startling. According to Music Business Worldwide audio stream volume in the UK was a whopping annual 199.6 billion, a figure that was up 11% year on year. Vinyl sales were about 7.6m; CDs, 9.7m.

“Tinny” kit isn’t ideal

“What a super woody sort of phrase. ‘Gorn off’,” says Gervaise, a pilot, played by Michael Palin in the Monty Python Flying Circus 1942 set ‘Woody and Tinny’ sketch that’s part of ‘The Light Entertainment War’ first broadcast in 1974.

What I like nevertheless about the very unwoody aspect of streaming is its convenience, how it saves space, is portable and it is fairly comprehensive. Because most albums that I look for are on Spotify (if they aren’t they are usually on Bandcamp) and the sound quality is OK particularly if I play the tracks via a smart speaker which is far better than the sound quality on my laptop or on my phone. I am not and never have been an audiophile snob although I do pine for great kit and certainly if money was no object would surround myself with studio quality listening playback devices really to hear the tiny detail you just can’t pick up on “tinny” kit – really Mansfield – and of course for an all round decent rush of blood to the head of a listening experience which is always a rush once in a while. But remember just because the music is on great kit doesn’t mean it’s better because of that fact.

A growing confidence in tone of voice or if you prefer, “Zuversicht” pertains

“What’s gorn dear?” “Nothing, nothing, I just like the word. It give me confidence” – Monty Python

An emphasis on labels as a brand has changed

The indie jazz label scene has changed a good deal since Covid. Rather than just give you a list of my favourite ones (these are: Stoney Lane, Edition, Babel, Smoke Sessions, Fresh Sound New Talent, Criss Cross Jazz etc) I thought I’d explain that change has meant more of a reliance on digital distributors and marketing firms who liaise with these.

It means that a named label isn’t as important if a musician is organised enough to work with one who will do several things for them, the most important of which is to get their music quickly and efficiently on to DSPs like Spotify and Apple Music; managing metadata and releases; collecting and paying out streaming royalties; providing basic analytics and rights administration. If they bypass traditional labels and put out good work – and many do – the whole branding aspect of buying into product because it is a good label is redundant. It’s curious that only labels owned (like Blue Note) or distributed (ECM in most countries) by Universal really have instant brand meaningfulness still. That is partly because both have been around so long, in Blue Note’s case since 1939 and in ECM’s since 1969.

When marketing/admin is included the company will also provide marketing, playlist pitching, strategy, and campaign support. It is also often positioned under the umbrella of being a label services deal. These go beyond pure distribution and can include PR, digital marketing, and audience growth – without the artist signing a traditional record deal.

Artists who stick to physical only will find it very hard to get any profile online and really it’s only fans who will know that the music is out there possibly because they know their website and perhaps have heard on the grapevine that there is an album that’s new.

Is it cooler to be on a physical release any more as a main format? Not any more. Think of books, do you read the book because it is a hardback (which is still a cool format) or because it is a good read?

I don’t get hung up on formats. I used to more and well remember how proud I was in the 1990s when I purchased some audiophile equipment from a local store playing it until it stopped working and then going to a specialist place called Audiogold to replace it with some cool vintage kit.

Since Covid I have changed as a listener

My listening habits beyond formats have changed. I think I am a more honest listener nowadays than even last year. I go with what my gut feeling is telling me more. I don’t go with what others are saying that much. But sometimes I read something on a blog or website I admire if it’s written by someone whose opinions I respect and follow this up if I don’t know the work in question.

Pavlovian reactions brought on by publicist activity

I often think about the art of criticism and its problem areas. So for one this brings me to a faultline of criticism. It’s a syndrome that comes under the rubric of Pavlovian reaction. That’s something named after Ivan Pavlov, and is a learned automatic response to something that normally wouldn’t trigger it. It happens when your brain connects two things together over time.

What I mean in this instance is the pipeline and reaction of new music being sent by publicists to reviewers. Would they review it if it wasn’t sent? Is it better than music that isn’t sent? Are reviewers merely flattered by the receipt of a nice email and a link to music that is not available just yet to the public?

The basic idea of a Pavlovian reaction is that one thing naturally causes a reaction, while another thing starts off neutral. If they happen together repeatedly, your brain links them. Eventually, the neutral thing alone can trigger the same reaction.

A classic example comes from Pavlov’s experiments with dogs. Food naturally made the dogs salivate. He rang a bell before giving them food, over and over again. After a while, the dogs began to salivate just from hearing the bell, even when no food was present.

It produces a bias. This kind of reaction shows up in everyday life too. You might hear a notification sound and instantly feel the urge to check your phone, or smell a certain food and suddenly feel hungry. Sometimes a song can bring back strong emotions or memories because your brain has linked it to a past experience.

The other thing worth thinking about here is how you react to music when it isn’t new. Do critics over value rarity? Do they see their role as bigging up obscurity and lose the run of themselves because the thing in question is owned by about 37 people who are very smug that they do rather like someone who owns a Piccaso but won’t show anybody it in public.

Authority bias

As I so often note on marlbank reactions to music are subjective. Sometimes there is a received wisdom. It’s not really driven by “best of” lists that we all read at certain points. “Best of” lists in magazines tend to create a kind of mental shortcut where people treat subjective opinions as if they were objective truths. Instead of seeing a list as one perspective shaped by a particular editor, audience, or moment in time, readers can start to believe it represents a definitive ranking of quality. This is a form of authority bias, where the presence of a respected publication gives extra weight to what is ultimately just a curated opinion.

They also encourage binary thinking. Music, films, or books get divided into “the best” and everything else, flattening nuance. Complex, personal experiences with art get reduced to positions on a ladder, which can make people less open to forming their own tastes or appreciating work that falls outside the canon. It creates the illusion that value is fixed and universally agreed upon, when in reality it’s fluid and culturally dependent.

Another flaw is the bandwagon effect. Once something appears on enough “best of” lists, it reinforces its own reputation. People may feel they should like it, or assume it must be important, which can crowd out lesser-known or more experimental work. Over time, this narrows the conversation and concentrates attention on a relatively small group of already-recognised artists.

There’s also a tendency toward recency bias and revisionism. Lists often reflect what’s currently fashionable or being re-evaluated, rather than a stable sense of long-term significance. This can lead to constant reshuffling that feels authoritative but is actually driven by changing trends, not objective reassessment.

These lists can create a kind of cultural gatekeeping. They imply that there is a correct set of tastes to have, and that being “in the know” means aligning with those rankings. This can discourage exploration and make people second-guess their own preferences, replacing curiosity with a desire to conform to perceived consensus.

Overall, the flawed thinking they produce comes from treating curated, subjective judgments as fixed hierarchies, which distorts how people evaluate, discover, and relate to art.

MORE FROM MARLBANK

CHECK OUT THESE RECENT REVIEWS

Molly Johnson is back

New music from the Canadian has a late night crossover mood about it on her first album in 5 years.

Swallow winters out

Warm love in the room for Carla: ‘4’ and ‘6’ stand out most. Steve Swallow isn’t afraid to swing.

Related Articles

library shelves filled with books
Think piece

It’s the work, not the label

Thoughts on how you get your new music out there when there...

Think piece

It’s pushing at an open door to discover Irish jazz.

There’s plenty of talent out there but precious little coverage to reflect...

Discover more from marlbank

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading