A Comparative Mirror

Comparison is a tool used by a lot of critics. In some respects its a lazy tool, like putting together Ikea furniture with an electric screwdriver. And, in just the same way, it's useful. Giving a more well-known basis for comparison for a sound or a sight can intrigue a reader into giving something a look and in a way that's your job as a critic: to explain to the uninitiated the background behind the artist, the piece, and what to expect when you experience that piece. It doesn't make sense to review a Coldplay record without at least touching on their obvious sonic touchpoints (Radiohead, U2, blah blah blah).



My problem with comparison in criticism-- my problem with criticism in general-- is when it becomes personal.

Arts, Ants and Sonic the Hedgehog

The line in High Fidelity (the book) goes like this: "I've been letting the weather and my stomach muscles and a great chord change in a Pretenders single make up my mind for me, and I want do it for myself." It comes near the end of the book. For those with only knowledge of the movie, it would be in the bar scene, where Rob asks Laura to marry him.



For those of us who love music - for those of us who love any kind of art form purely and with great fervor - we understand what Rob is talking about in that passage. It's a bit inexplicable how a moment of music, or a scene in a movie, a brush stroke in a painting can change your mind, but it can.

The Video Game as an Art Form

I'm sure by now most of you have seen one of YouTube's most defining clips, the shot of a young boy absolutely losing his shit when he realizes that he got a Nintendo 64 for Christmas. If you haven't, you can check it below.