You know the way a lot of professional “critics” seem to be incredibly satisfied with every word that emanates from their non-smiling mouths? Well, I reckon the reason for this is that deep down inside they know their role in society is, in fact, quite menial. Nothing they say really matters when all is said and done. The self-righteous attitude is an attempt to mask the resultant low self-esteem. I believe Theodore Roosevelt said it best:

It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.

Who could we use as an example to illustrate this point? Ooh, I know, how about Randall Abrahams? Did you catch Mark Haze on Idols covering Lady GaGa’s Born This Way? It was like a giant leap forward for SA Idols. The song choice was a stroke of genius and the execution was outrageously good. The guy’s talent was there for everyone to see. But when Randall spoke, he didn’t say a word about the inspired song choice or the pitch perfect rendition. No, he seemed to have a pre-prepared script in his head and he was sticking to it no matter what. He announced with great authority that Haze was too professional or too polished or something. I can’t actually remember. Which says a lot. Whatever it was, it was as if he’d just been watching Rick Astley wheeling out Never Gonna Give You Up for the billionth time.

Could it be that there was something else at play? Did Randy perhaps feel threatened by a performance that rendered his encyclopaedic knowledge of popular music irrelevant and dull? So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, take the authoritative words of those who criticise with a pinch of salt. There are of course writers who truly know their stuff and act as a kind of quality control for music, movies, books, food etc. They are often referred to as critics, but they’re really writers. A writer aims to inspire debate and form an opinion. Hunter S. Thompson performed this role to some extent. So does AA Gill. The writer is very much “in the arena”, risking failure whilst striving for success. The people I’m talking about are more like bouncers at a nightclub; spitefully exercising what little power they have to take their revenge on society.

The reason I’m banging on about this with such self-righteous authority (see what I did there?) is that I read a couple of reviews of the latest Cold War Kids album online and started to wonder whether I was listening to the same album, and subsequently began to question how much credence should be given to reviews, particularly online.

[click ‘continue reading’ below for the rest of this EPIC review]

A critic at a prominent website has decided to single out Cold War Kids as a band that produces “faceless, nondescript, blues and soul injected indie rock that is working well for many of their bettors”. And yet, when I put my headphones on and listen to Mine Is Yours, I hear a set of great songs with spacious, crisp production and, in particular, a singer with an incredibly expressive voice. To compare them to the Black Keys, as the reviewer in question does, is absurd, but then again he refers to the Kings of Leon as “fellow cheese-merchants”, which is a little OTT and hints at a critic who has a grudge to bear or a chip on his shoulder or an axe to grind or ants in his pants or something.

The song, Louder Than Ever is a standout single that has the same kind of irresistible hooks that gave the band their break with Hang Me Up To Dry. Elsewhere on the album, Out Of The Wilderness has real impact as it breaks down half way and builds into a grandiose finale that this band pull off so well. While the album may lack the jagged rawness of their previous work, I would describe it as a more mature sound, rather than a dive for the middle of the road as some have interpreted it as. But don’t believe everything you read, including these words. You may love it. You may hate it. The important thing is that you check it out for yourself.