SmoothViews On the Lighter Side

It's hard being Simon. Everyone hopes you are going to be Paula. A CD arrives in the mail. You open it with more apprehension than anticipation, hoping to be brilliantly surprised, but haunted by the feeling that disappointment is just around the corner. To wit: what if it sucks? Or even worse, what if it is so nondescript that it doesn't keep your attention long enough for you to notice that it...well you know? Often there's a thoughtfully written press release highlighting the musician's career, their commitment to their art, and the fact that they have poured their innermost soul into every note. How can you resist someone's innermost soul pouring through your computer, into your iPod and right between your ears where it will seek out brain cells that aren't occupied with "24," "Lost," random to-do lists, and a big wad of bitterness over your arch-rival team's March Madness ascension.

The good news these days is that recording technology has become so accessible that anyone can make a CD. The bad news is that recording technology has become so accessible that anyone can make a CD. Install an audio production program with a few loops and multiple tracks, hook up a few pieces of equipment, and you're ready to roll. Record it, burn it, write up a bio or press release, and send it out. Get some positive feedback, add that to your press release, and send more out. On the receiving end, someone will read these comments from their peers, ask themselves, "Am I missing something?" and confront a heavy dose of guilt for not feeling as enthusiastically supportive as everyone else seems to be. In Smooth Jazz there seems to be an unlimited audience for music to accompany drinking wine and walking on the beach at sunset. Lay some keyboard textures over a seductive beat, loop in a breathy sigh, grab a sax, and play something romantic and familiar. Do this 10 times and you have an album. Send it out then call reviewers. If the response is lukewarm remind the reviewers that the title cut sets the perfect mood for romance, just open the wine, light the candles, and... well in my case break out in hives. A lot of wines don't like me, and I've been a little averse to the beach since the last time I sat on a jellyfish.

Simon, on one shoulder, says, "Say what you really think." Agreeing wholeheartedly that the artist in question should learn to play on key before recording again, it's a tempting alternative. But is that something the reading public needs to know? Maybe they have learned to listen off key, and it won't bother them. I've seen a cardio dance class blithely mambo-cha-cha and box step for an hour without noticing they were working against the beat instead of on it. So who knows? Thus, in the spirit of kindness and karma, I don't write bad reviews. OK, maybe it has to do with the fact that I could never compete with some of the one-line zingers that rock critics came up with when rock journalism had a very crafty mean streak. For whatever reason, perhaps in the spirit of graciousness and encouragement of developing talent, I tiptoe around conspicuous issues:

The musician is playing off key: "By playing over, under, and around the notes this artist has given this song an entirely new melodic perspective."
One or more of them are playing noticeably faster or slower than the rest of the band: "Immersed in the intensity of their involvement with this music, they hurtle toward the end with the unsynchronized power bursts of racers headed for the finish line."
The singer does multi-note runs on almost every word in the song: "The vocalist showcases her range by stretching the letter "a" in "baby" over a two octave scale.”
That high soprano sax note was a little shrieky: "It was becoming harder to work with my cat sitting on the keyboard, but when that note came through the speaker, she took a spirited leap into the air and found comfort in a far corner of the room."
The sound quality resembles someone sitting at a table in front of the stage recording it on their old cassette deck: "There is a spirit of looseness and earthy authenticity that makes you feel like you're front and center during the pre-show sound check."
All the songs sound alike: "This artist has examined every nuance of a specific mood."
It's all loops and sound effects with no songs to be found: "The hypnotic beat weaves through a multitude of soundscapes."
It fades into the background to the point where you keep starting it over again and promising yourself that you'll really listen this time: "Every song on this CD made me want to hit the replay button over and over again."

And when all else fails, it's time to really connect with my inner Paula: "I love their outfits, and the guitarist looked particularly radiant."

It's like mom said: "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all.” Or else say something that is so hard to figure out that readers will just gloss over it and click the next item without even going "huh??"