Critique d'une Presse Méprisable à travers Jimmy Whispers

Chers lecteurs. Vous le savez, Still in Rock est avant tout un lieu convivial. Seules les critiques positives sont publiées et les groupes sont encensés parce que nous estimons qu’ils le méritent. Seulement, je crois qu’il faut parfois profiter de cet espace pour dénoncer ce qui doit l’être.

Je profite ainsi de cet article pour dénoncer une partie de la presse (musicale). Je profite du fait que des centaines d’articles n’aient pas encore été écrits sur Jimmy Whispers pour porter un avis objectif et non influencé, autant que faire se peut. Nul doute en effet que le web va s’affoler autour de la personne de Jimmy Whispers. Il faut dire que l’opération de com’ est parfaitement calibrée. Son charisme est largement mis en avant, le secret a longtemps été gardé sur ce que contiendrait cet opus et l’image est placée avant la musique (façon David Bowie, erk). Pourtant, la musique ne doit pas être affaire d’image. Des photographes existent pour cela. Des peintres, des sculpteurs, des architectes et j’en passe, sont là pour nous éblouir. Les musiciens sont des créateurs de sonorités. Si une musique d’exception est accompagnée d’un bon visuel, tant mieux, mais ce visuel n’est jamais là que pour suppléer la musique, et aider à sa mise en perspective.

Seulement voilà, Jimmy Whispers a été fait star, et ce parce qu’il l’a voulu. La musique doit vomir ceux qui recherchent d’abord à être stars. Lorsque je tape son nom dans Google, déjà 3 550 000 résultats apparaissent. Parions sur 5 000 000 dans quelques jours à peine (essayez donc). De nombreux magazines ont déjà consacré des colonnes entières à Jimmy Whispers, sur le seul fait d’une vidéo à Chic-A-Go-Go, où Jimmy Whispers n’était franchement pas éblouissant (jugez par vous-même). Cet artiste qui s’est pris pour Mac DeMarco n’a rien en commun avec le précité. Il n’est pas le seul, et je ne lui jette pas plus la pierre qu’à d’autres. Seulement, comment ne pas être fatigué de ce système qui veut starifier avant de laisser place à l’art, véritablement. 

Jimmy Whispers et de nombreux autres artistes prennent la chose à l’envers. Ces artistes sont des descendants de la Blank Generation (explications). Des commerciaux et publicitaires les remplissent de tout ce qu’il faut pour en faire un phénomène. Jimmy Whispers est ainsi le cliché de l’artiste maudit, ironique, qui semble détaché de son art. Il dit “shit” parce que ouais lui c’est un mec comme ça, il chante faux parce que what the fuck, il se ballade en teddy parce que c’est quand même sacrément vendeur, et sa musique ne crée rien. Aucune des mélodies de son premier LP n’est suffisamment aboutie pour retenir notre attention. Les paroles sont déplorables, et l’interprétation n’a rien de sincère.

Alors certes, Jimmy Whispers, je m’excuse auprès de toi pour ces quelques lignes que tu ne liras probablement pas, et qui seront de toute façon noyées dans la presse qui cherche le cool et qui t’encensera. Je pense à Pitchfork et Vice, ces deux magazines qui font l’apologie du pourri, pourri parce qu’ils encensent ce qu’ils pensent atteindra la masse, de sorte à pouvoir dire : “ah, on vous l’avez bien dit que Jimmy Whispers serait un hit, voyez, on est super avant-gardiste”. Ce même cool qu’ils tuent d’ailleurs en procédant de la sorte (voir ce dossier). Cette même presse qui a surtout tué la critique musicale, parce qu’un compliment est maintenant soupçonné de traduire des intérêts autres que celui qui devrait toujours rester seul et unique : le plaisir de la musique. Ces temples du cool ont tué la critique et tuent par la même l’émergence d’artistes véritables, alors me suis-je promis de toujours faire partie de ceux qui les dénonceront, les critiqueront, et n’auront de cesse de dire à quel point ils sont nuls. Et dire que j’entends déjà leurs rires, graissés par les billets de cette apologie de l’abjecte. 

Maintenant, pour en revenir rapidement à ce que contient l’album de Jimmy Whispers (il faut quand même, non ?) qui verra le jour le 23 mars prochain via Moniker Records et qui est d’ores et déjà disponible en streaming, comment ne pas dire que les titres sont peu garnis. Certains écriront que c’est la force de la Bedroom Pop (puisqu’il paraît que Jimmy Whispers s’en réclame), une musique dépouillée qui se concentre sur le minimalisme (“disarming in its lo-fi simplicity” qu’on peut lire, comme ci simplicité et fainéantise étaient synonymes). C’est vrai. Mais en réalité, les titres de Jimmy Whispers manquent cruellement de travail. L’aspect lo-fi est mis en avant comme un argument marketing. Il lui sert également à se cacher, comme sur “Hearbeat” où lui-même semble avoir honte du résultat. L’instru’, pour sa part, est similaire sur l’ensemble des morceaux. Quelle lassitude !

Jimmy Whispers, or should I say, the scam of Jimmy Whispers.

Dear readers. As you know, Still in Rock tries to be a friendly place; we endeavour to publish positive reviews and praise bands when we believe they deserve it. However, sometimes when necessary, it seems fair to also use this space to castigate. 

With this article, I would like to take the opportunity to denounce a part of the (musical) press. There is no doubt that the world wide web will soon be in love with Jimmy Whispers, the communication plan is perfectly calibrated. Whispers’ charisma is widely emphasised and the secret has long been kept as to what his first LP would contain, his image emphasised significantly more than his music (in a David Bowie fashion, erk). Yet, music is not a question of visual. Photographers exist for that, painters, sculptors, architects and so on, are here to dazzle us visually. But musicians are creators of sound. If great music is accompanied by great visuals, fair enough, but let’s remember that the visual aspect is just here to accompany the music.

Jimmy Whispers was made a star because he wanted to be one. But music should defeat those who first seek to be stars. When I Google his name, 3,550,000 results appear, and I am willing to bet that more than 5,000,000 results will be found in few days (try it). Many magazines have devoted columns to Jimmy Whispers, and this is merely because of a Chic-A-Go-Go video, where Jimmy Whispers was frankly not very dazzling (see for yourself). This artist who believes to be Mac DeMarco, has nothing in common with him. He is not the only one, and I am not throwing more rocks at him than I do others. But how are we not tired of a system that endeavours to create stars rather than reward true art. 

Jimmy Whispers was made a star because he wanted so. And music should throw those who first seek to be stars. When I Google his name, 3,550,000 results already appear. I am willing to bet that more than 5,000,000 results will be found in few days (try it). Many magazines have devoted their columns to Jimmy Whispers, and this, on the mere fact of a Chic-A-Go-Go video, where Jimmy Whispers was frankly not very dazzling (see for yourself). This artist who believes to be Mac DeMarco has nothing in common with him. He is not the only one, and I am not throwing him more rocks than I do to others. But how not to be tired of this system that wants to create stars more than reward true art.

Jimmy Whispers and many other artists take the problem upside down. These artists are descendants of the Blank Generation (explanations). Sales people and advertisers assist them in every way to make them become a phenomenon. Jimmy Whispers plays on the cliché of the cursed artist, ironic, who seems to be distanced from his own art. He says “shit” because yeah, he’s a guy like that. He sings off-key because what the fuck. He wears a Teddy because it’s a damn good way to sell more; and in the end, his music creates nothing. There isn’t a single melody made well enough to hold our attention. The lyrics are deplorable, and his interpretation is anything but sincere. Jimmy, sure I apologise for these few lines that you will probably never read, and anyway, they will be buried by the laudatory press you’ll soon receive. 

This press includes Pitchfork and Vice, two magazines that glorify rotten shit! Rotten because they praise what they think will reach the masses, so that they can say “hey, we told you that Jimmy Whispers is cool and would be a hit, see, we are so forward-thinking”. That same cool that they kill by doing so (see this feature). The same press that kills music criticism, because every compliment is now suspected to have an ulterior motive, other than the one that should always remain the only one: the pleasure of music. These are churches of cool that kill criticism and kill the emergence of real artists. So I’ve promised myself to always be a part of those who denounce them, criticise them, and will not cease to say how bad they are. Ah, I can already hear their laughs, lubricated by the money generated by this apology of the abject. 

This press includes Pitchfork and Vice, two magazines that glorify rotten shits, rotten because they praise what they think will reach the masses, so that they can say “hey, we told you that Jimmy Whispers is cool and would be a hit, see, we are so forward-thinking. ” That same cool that they kill by doing so (see this feature). The same press which kills music criticism because every compliment is now suspected to translate interests other than the one that should always remain the only one: the pleasure of music. These churches of cool that kill criticism and also kill the emergence of real artists. So I promised myself to always be part of those who denounce them, criticize them, and will not cease to say how bad they are. Ah, I can already hear their laughs, lubricated by the money generated by this apology of the abject.

Now, getting quickly back to what the ‘Jimmy Whispers’ first LP contains, (we have to, right?) which is due to appear on March 23 via Moniker Records (and is already available for streaming). How could I not mention that these tracks are poorly made. Some write that the strength of Bedroom Pop (which is apparently the scene Jimmy Whispers pretends to be part of), is to be a music that focuses on minimalism (“disarming in its lo-fi simplicity” as we can read, as if simplicity was synonymous with laziness). That is true, but in reality, Jimmy Whispers’ songs are simply incomplete. The lo-fi aspect is highlighted as a marketing argument. He also uses it to hide, as in “Heartbeat” in which even he seems to be ashamed of the result. As for the orchestration, it is similar on all pieces, how strange! 

The only strength of this LP resides in Jimmy Whispers’ voice, off-key and often misplaced, but which, in some rare instances, omits a little emotion, which might interest us. “Summer in Pain” is one of the only songs that deserve our attention. The melody, for once, gives off something interesting, but nothing that can justify all the press that Jimmy Whispers has already had, and all that he’ll soon receive.

Sure, I know that this article will displease some of you. But whatever, let’s not be surprised that blogs have replaced much of the media when it comes to the discovery process. Some, of which I exclude Still in Rock, represent one of the last bastions where by you can still say, listen and critic the art for the art.

(Thanks Alex Wateridge for your precious help)