Do you read your reviews? Should you read your reviews? You definitely shouldn't. And yet of course you do.

I have been thinking about this a lot recently on the back of the release of my Stereolab book and comments made by Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos in an interview with Louis Theroux.

During the interview, Yorgos told Louis that he only reads bad reviews of his films, in the hope he might learn something from them. 

As for me, having written stacks of reviews over the years, it felt only right that I should be on the other side of the pen when my book was released, and so I read all of my write ups, through gritted teeth and protective goggles.

And you know what? It felt pretty good. The reviews weren't 100% positive but everyone took their time to read the book, in good faith, and came up with some interesting, well thought-out ideas and criticisms.

More interesting, though, was the realisation that Yorgos and I have essentially come to a similar conclusion about reviews, which is that many reviewers, rather than disliking your work, are actually looking for a different version of it, one that more closely chimes with their own tastes and desires

By this logic, saying that a film is too dark or a song is too complex means that the reviewer probably wants a different film - a lighter one - or a simpler song.

Perhaps this is an obvious conclusion. But it sent me into a temporary tailspin of doubt about what it means, both for the reviews I write and for reviewing as a whole.

I love reviews, especially of music. I love reading them and I love writing them. They entertain and they inform. 

Yes, I could just go and listen to the album / song in question, as naysayers love to argue. But I enjoy knowing what smart people have to say about a particular piece of music, even if I disagree with them or they are writing about something I will never, ever listen to.

But am I, when writing a review, just putting a case for the album I want to hear, rather than evaluating the record before me? And, if so, does that negate the whole point of it?

Not necessarily. In fact, the whole thing operates on very thin lines. Nobody is looking for a series of objective facts when they dig into a review. “It's in the key of C Minor and plays at a steady 128 BPM.” Frankly, who cares?

Maybe there are some very minor things in a song that are objectively off, like the drummer fluffing a fill or a singer hitting a bum note. But these are often, perversely, the same things that give life to a song. 

(This is one reason that I dislike the argument that all music critics should know something about musical theory. Maybe it could help, in some cases. But it also sounds like a recipe for reviews that are well thought out and boring as hell.)

And yet some form of criticism is both valid and necessary. Perhaps the reviewer is looking for something in a particular work that the artist never intended. And perhaps that is a problem.

At the same time, it would be utterly ridiculous to suggest that all music is equally good, so long as it fulfils certain criteria. 

Is my school band’s worst song as transcendent as The Beach Boys’ Caroline, No simply because they both have verses, choruses and a middle eight? Because both songs, to put it crudely, work? Because they do what they have to do as songs and that is how we must judge them?

Of course not. So what separates the two? That is the genius of music. And that is what most reviews are trying to tease out.

In doing so, we inevitably fall back on our personal tastes - because music is personal. And I think the essence of a review is trying to express this personal taste through a wide-angled lens that is relevant to others. 

Somehow in a review you have to balance what is reasonable with what is interesting; don’t slag off a death metal record just for being death metal; but don’t just tacitly agree that the artist is doing their best and deserves a pat on the back.

This is one reason why I don’t write that many negative reviews. On the one hand, I don't really see the point when I have limited time and space and would rather recommend something I love. 

On the other, there is music that just isn't for me and I don't feel fit to judge it. Like trance. Or the continued grim output of the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

I probably won't like whatever new song RHCP might release - and I could explain why in gruesome detail. But I also dislike the absolute top-shelf Red Hot Chili classics that every fan venerates. So I don't know if I can judge between the two. 

I genuinely think Give It Away is one of the worst songs I have ever heard. And it is probably the band's second or third biggest hit. So go figure.

When I do write a negative review, it tends to be of something I could like but don't. I love dub techno, for example, but was incredibly underwhelmed by Loidis’ One Day. I love house music but I don't really like Fred Again. And I think it is reasonable to ask why.

Frequently, what annoys me most is frustrated potential. Fred Again has a fascinating background in grime, Eno and Ed Sheeran. So why does he produce such cookie-cutter house music? Loidis is clearly a very talented producer who loves dub techno, so why is One Day so tame? There’s the rub.

Context, too, is important. Music doesn’t - cannot - exist in a vacuum and it is the reviewer’s job to bring that to the fore, to explain how this piece of music relates to the world in 2026. 

This should make you love it more - and is yet another reason to read reviews. Shorn of context and personal feelings, music is just a series of sounds. And I don’t think anyone wants that.

I fervently believe that reviews are important. At the same time, I don’t think musicians should get worked up over them. Yorgos reads his negative critiques to find out if there is something in his work that he should change. But he doesn't ever find anything. 

Most musicians will feel the same. Feedback is good. But you can get that from friends in a less public fashion. For artists, I’m with Andy Warhol: reviews should be weighed, rather than read.

Sometimes, looking back, musicians will agree that there is something lacking or astray about a particular record. I used to love Noisey's Rank Your Records series because of the rare insight it gave into those moments of self reflection, where artists concede that many not all of their records are as good as they could be.

This kind of thinking tends to come with historical perspective, though. Most artists are happy with their new, fresh and exciting work, which is why bands almost always say their new album is their best. 

They may change their minds later. But for the moment, they believe.

Then there are the rare, weird moments when I seem to like a record more than the people who actually made it and I am forced to disagree with the album’s creators as to its worth - see the Happy Mondays' Yes Please or the first Beta Band record. 

What does that mean? Is this musicians building themselves up to knock themselves down again? I have no idea.

So, musicians, don't read your reviews. Or rather do but take it all with a pinch of salt. Is the reviewer right about something? Then take it on board. But if you disagree with their criticism then you can just ignore it. 

The key question is: would you have changed your work in any way if you knew what this review would say beforehand? And if the answer is no - as I found with my own book - then you really don’t need to worry about it. 

As for me, I’ll go on writing and reading reviews at a suspiciously obsessive rate and hopefully you’ll go on reading them. 

You may agree with what I say; you may disagree; but with 120k songs uploaded to Spotify every day, some kind of filter is important and if mine can be of use - old and blocked with grease, drain hair and manky soap scum as it may be - then I’m happy to oblige. *

* There are six reviews below, to start with.

What do you think? Do you read your reviews, musicians and otherwise?

Is there any point in reviews?

Should people get angry about them?

Are the Red Hot Chili Peppers rubbish?

Some listening

Ghoulish - This Bassline Smells Like Oil

This bass line doesn’t smell like oil - it stinks with the filthy, rotten essence of oil, slavered across the track like unrefined crude over some poor seagull that’s got caught in an oil spill. And if there’s nothing really else to the track beyond a swinging beat and a frankly piss-taking bongo fill that’s because there doesn’t need to be. In fact, to continue with the oil theme, you know when you gaze into an oily puddle and it’s kind of horrible but beautiful and totally hypnotic? Well that’s This Bassline Smells Like Oil through and through. Ghoulish - aka Manchester’s Adam Harper - you should be ashamed of yourself.

Locust - Long Distance Lover

In the 90s Locust (aka Mark Van Hoen) was known for the impressive iciness of his productions, with Weathered Well - my own personal favourite - an absolutely blood chilling album of steely precision that my grandfather once proclaimed “very good - but not really music”.

I would love to know what he would make of Long Distance Lover, Locust’s new song with Slowdive’s Neil Halsted on guitar and vocals from Natasha Morrow, which sounds as comfortingly warm as Weathered Well was stone cold, gentle guitar lines wrapped around Morrow’s ever so slightly Hope Sandoval-ish delivery and subtle electronic beats. I think Grandpa enjoy it, you know.

Sepehr - Fool’s Ovation

Iranian-American producer Sepehr claims to destroy dance music tropes, a bold idea that Fool’s Ovation just about backs up. The song, taken for his new EP for Objekt’s Kapsela label, skirts around electro, techno and rotted ambience, with a bass note borrowed from the rudest jungle tear up in a way that tickles, rather than dynamites, dance music, like the earlier moments of a swingers party, when people are still checking each other out rather than getting down to business. (I imagine, anyway.) The song also vaguely reminds me of I-F’s classic Space Invaders Are Smoking Grass, as glimpsed through the final moments of an anxiety dream.

Bella Boo featuring KURT - Shake Down

In which Stockholm’s Bella Boo teams up with KURT for a minimal but ultra-bumping slice of house music, dusted with the smallest idea of breakbeats and a bass line that sounds like it should be sealing bathrooms. Fresh as a summer picnic.

Jorja Smith - What’s Done Is Done

UK Garage - like mown grass, sleeping under a tree and inflatable crocodiles - is for the summer and Jorja Smith has fired an early warning shot in the race to dominate 2026’s warmer months with this slinky 2-Step number, born aloft on a web of those familiarly pizzicato strings, maniacally shuffling beat and suggestion of looming bass.

Play Time - Open The Door, Joey

Maybe it’s just the appearance of the word “Joey”, in which case apologies, but the opening song from Play Time’s new album for Balmat makes me think of those early Mercury Rev records - think Very Sleepy Rivers, especially live - when the madcap group eased back on the guitar fuzz and smoothed into a jazz groove that was totally hypnotic and yet vaguely troubling at the same time. 

Or maybe Open The Door, Joey is like being mesmerised by the snake from the Jungle Book, where your senses know something is wrong and you should really try to tear yourself out of it, but it’s all just too relaxing for words. Or, perhaps, as the group suggest, the song is elastic minimalist-jazz-krautrock. Whatever the case, if you can resist playing it five times in a row then you’re more jazz-jam-resistant than I am.

Things I’ve done

Line Noise podcast - With Ozric Tentacles

A few months ago, I spoke to Ed Wynne, the leading light behind British psych? prog? ambient? space rock? band Ozric Tentacles, about Todd Rundgren, 43 years of the band, getting advice from George Harrison, a nice shimmery afterglow and more. You can now hear the very cosmic results.

Primavera Sound 2026 - my electronic road map

In which I give you a handful of electronic music acts that you might enjoy at Primavera Sound 2026 and people get angry because there’s no Skrillex, as if he needs my help in pulling an audience.

The playlists

Apple Music: The newest and bestest 2026.

Spotify: the newest and bestest 2026.

Apple Music: The newest and the bestest

Spotify: The newest and the bestest