Grade: B
The old axiom no longer applies. In modern popular music, it is possible not only to gild a turd, but to gild it so copiously that consumers scarcely catch a whiff of the ordure underneath. The studio is everything: you no longer need to be able to sing, write a tune or play an instrument — with enough electronic manipulation your turd can still become an epic and convince the perpetually gullible rock and pop press that something Important is taking place. In a sense, then, the other old axiom is also redundant: in pop music today, you can fool all of the people all of the time.
The Canadian musician Grimes is not quite at turd level: there is some talent there, although I’m not sure quite what it is. Not writing songs, not singing, not playing anything — maybe a sonic imagination and a certain winningly grim froideur.
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