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Musicians who
play Phish-like loose rock improvisations are constantly railing against
categorization as though it were some kind of sin against art or something,
and of course it’s a natural impulse for an artist to think that his
own work is somehow outside of any category into which it might be placed.
But the fact of the matter, from the listener’s side, is that categorization
is a big part of the fun. Knowing the specific nomenclature of a given genre
allows one to feel the unique pleasure of having not only the God-given
right to discuss a given subject, but the qualification to
do so. The more categories into which you can break something down, the
qualified you’ll be, when the time comes, to tell some blowhard that
he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You can experience this
pleasure even in the privacy of your home: “A fitting addition to any
trance collector’s library,” some critic writes in Rolling Stone
or Spin. “Provided he doesn’t actually care whether it’s
trance or tech-step,” you sniff. Ah -- how glorious to be an asshole!
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