Writing the Record: The Village Voice and the Birth of Rock Criticism

178 Pages·2013·1.733 MB·English

by  Devon Powers

WRITING THE RECORD
A volume in the series
American Popular Music
Edited by Rachel Rubin and Jeffrey Melnick
Writing
The Village Voice and the
Birth of Rock Criticism
DEVON POWERS
University of Massachusetts Press
Amherst & Boston
Copyright © 2013 by University of Massachusetts Press
All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN 978-1-62534-012-2 (paper); 011-5 (hardcover)
Designed by Jack Harrison
Set in Adobe Minion Pro with ITC Avant Garde Gothic display
Printed and bound by The Maple-Vail Book Manufacturing Group
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Powers, Devon.
Writing the record : the Village Voice and the birth of rock criticism / Devon Powers.
pages cm. — (American popular music)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-62534-012-2 (pbk. : alk. paper) — ISBN 978-1-62534-011-5 (hardcover : alk. paper)
1. Village Voice (Greenwich Village, New York, N.Y.) 2. Musical criticism—United States—History.
3. Rock music—United States—History and criticism. I. Title.
ML3785.P68 2013
781.6609747'1—dc23
2012050131
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
To my parents, Lee and Mandy Powers
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CONTENTS
Acknowledgments ix
Introduction: Criticism 1
1. Village 23
2. Pop 43
3. Hype 74
4. Identity 98
5. Mattering 123
Notes 137
Index 157
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
One of the most difficult things I had to confront when writing this book
was that what had often felt like a solitary activity—partaken of in the hours
between dusk and dawn, scribbled on Post-It notes, floating in data clouds,
and gnawing at the back of my mind almost always—would someday be-
come public and tangible, bearing my name. That day has come, dear read-
er, and I am glad you have started your reading here with the acknowledg-
ments. The publication of this book is, for me, a reason for tremendous
celebration, but also one for pause. I admit that I have anxiety, still, that I
have not said what it is that I mean, that I have not said all that I could, that I
have made a mistake. I have learned that this is the nature of books, though.
Even though they are bound, they are never quite finished.
Two things comfort me when the stress of miscommunication and judg-
ment peaks. One is that this book, and any book, is not just a publication;
it is also a conversation. As a reader, you are embarking on a conversation
with me, one that I hope results in your own scribbled Post-Its and data
cloud rants. I thank you, my reader, for spending some time with me think-
ing about the things I have thought both way too much and barely enough
about.
What you are about to read is the record of many conversations that I
have had with my own readings, as well as discussions with my friends,
colleagues, and family over the ten years this book needed to gestate. It is
an acknowledgments cliché to say that writing is never truly solitary, but it’s
so utterly true that it is worth repeating. My writing is in essence a transla-
tion of the energies, ideas, and psychic supports of the people around me,
and the love and thanks I have for them could fill an entire book—one that
would likely be far easier to write than this one was.
Like many first books, this one began as my doctoral dissertation at New
York University. My dissertation adviser, Susan Murray, is as supportive an
ix