“All that said, the hasty pace of digital culture has made it tougher to pull off the trick of being at once of-the-moment and timeless. In fact, my biggest criticism of current pop is that, in between the hooks, lyrics and vocals frequently seem to ramble sloppily, all text-message chatty—a side effect of persona dominating nearly every other tool in the box.”—Best music 2011: Bon Iver is unlistenable. - Slate Magazine
It’s OK, don’t worry. I know it seems difficult to understand right now, but the first thing you need to realise is that what you’re feeling is normal. A lot of people are going through the same process you are. What’s more, a lot of people have gone through it before and come out OK. Music sites have been praising hit songs by women, or albums which didn’t break 75 on Metacritic, for a long time now so we know a lot about the feelings you’re having. And it’s alright to grieve, it’s normal.
What you’re going through is a process with stages. You might not hit all the stages, you might skip a couple, but we know you’ll get there in the end. What’s important is that you let the feelings out. Twitter is there for you right now. So are comments boxes. It’s really important to let people know how you feel, and maybe that way you can take a step or two along your path to healing.
Stage One: Denial. This stage is marked by disbelief. You’ll probably feel that the website is trolling, or that maybe the list was a fix. It’s certain the writers couldn’t have meant what they said. Perhaps they were guilty about really liking Fleet Foxes. You might find using words like “WTF”, “No. Just, no.” or “Seriously?” helps you get through this stage.
Stage Two: Anger. Once you realise that the placing on the list is serious you’ll most likely feel very angry. To help you with these feelings, look elsewhere on the list for something you do like, lower down, and compare that to the offensive record as violently as possible. Even better, find something not on the list at all - an obviously superior record they could not “find room for” while rewarding the overhyped pabulum that has got you so upset. This will help you get to the third stage….
Stage Three: Bargaining. As your anger cools, you realise that the only reason the writers could have made this mistake is ignorance. Perhaps if you use their comments box to list your own Top 50 of the year they will see sense. Yes! That must be it. Go on! Do it! Cut and paste any relevant stretches of their list to save time.
Stage Four: Depression. You posted your list and did they take any notice? They did not. You sink into misery. Music is dead, your favourite website has jumped the shark, capitalism has won, art has been revealed as a garish painted whore, civilisation lies in ruins and mocking ironists cavort through the wreckage to the idiot piping of a David Guetta record. You might want to blog something to that effect, but remember, all these feelings are normal, and soon you’ll find yourself in
Stage Five: Acceptance. What’s done is done, life carries on, and the Hype Machine just posted a new Future Islands remix. It’s the day after you learned of the end of music and your long struggle for acceptance is finally over. At last you have peace. Until next year.
“Success in social media is equal to reproduction, but for a single user experiencing nanoculture as a personalized stream of information, local success and global success look virtually the same. If you follow 200 people on Twitter, and those 200 are all talking about Lana Del Rey, you don’t necessarily have good information about whether anyone outside that likes her. Your own stream is flooded, and scale dissolves. This is what writer Eli Pariser calls “the Filter Bubble”— the insidious power of the stream to bring you only what you want to hear, turning you into a local market of one. This can distort your understanding of reality— though no more so than reading only one newspaper, you might argue— but it can also offer useful insulation from constructs like “virality.”—Poptimist: Take Me to the River | Features | Pitchfork