JAKE CLELAND

Nick Sylvester is as well known for his vicious lack of mercy as he is for his incomparable (literary) style, but this review of Insterstella 5555, which he apparently likes more than anything else Daft Punk have ever done, really nails it. Most of what I’ve read (and loved) of Sylvester’s has been overwhelmingly negative (his review of Daft Club is a vitriolic masterpiece) but I think his criticism is better - if a degree less entertaining - when he’s writing on stuff he actually likes. Actually I think that’s true of most critics, maybe to the point of obviousness, although the popular adage is that it’s easier to write a review of something one hates. One of Greil Marcus’s contentions in the introduction to Psychotic Reactions & Carburetor Dung (and also one of several contentions I believe prove that Marcus didn’t even read the fucking book he put together) is that Lester Bangs always wrote better when he hated something and bordered on useless when he really loved something. This is as untrue of Bangs as it is every good critic.

As an aside, the folks who cry foul whenever Pitchfork (which they imagine to be a single-minded entity) changes its mind about a band must be having an furious orgy over the Random Access Memories hype. Daft Punk have averaged a totally underwhelming score since Schreiber reviewed Discovery back in 2001.