Can I make a writing career out of hating certain reviews? Is that a thing? Can I give terrible reviews of terrible reviews, and earn a devoted following by doing so? Let’s find out.

So guess what? I recently discovered a female-fronted band that I like. It’s called Gregory and the Hawk. And guess what? I found a misogynistic review of her music. It was really, really hard to find. I had to google “Gregory and the Hawk Pitchfork”, AND THEN I had to click on the first site that came up. It was exhausting.

Once you have read the review, and begun to wonder what that strange taste is in your mouth, I will translate the review into plain English for you:

This female singer-songwriter tried to choose a masculine stage name, in an attempt to avoid asshole male music critics like me making misogynistic comments about her music. NOT SO FAST, LADY. You’re still a woman and you can’t hide it from anyone, least of all me, asshole male music critic. Woman woman woman. 

I don’t like this record. To be sure that the artist won’t get away with hiding her unfortunate womanhood, I will now use the following highly gendered and derogatory terms to describe her music: twee, children’s book, kittens, innocently cooed, ephemeral, crystalline, invisibly pretty, coffee-house purgatory.

In case there was any doubt about whether this is a misogynistic review, I will describe her male collaborator as the only factor working in her favor, and describe his performance as adding “some meat” to her songs. With this review, I hope I have succeeded in alienating Pitchfork’s entire female readership. 

I don’t think I need to elaborate on why this review sucks so hard. But I will just point out that at the Pitchfork Music Festival this summer, there will be  100 male performers and 19 female performers. Of all the acts performing, only five are actually fronted by a woman.

Maybe excluding women is an aesthetic choice.

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