This is not rock and roll.
This is the other annoying extreme of the music biz today. On one hand, you’ve got the lowest-common denominator record industry idiot fodder, the stuff they play at the mall and the gym and on MTV. That’s the center, and it’s rotten.
Unfortunately, the periphery is occupied by a lot of hyper-pretentious po-mo scenester criticism in which the writers and talkers and ruminators take precedence over the music. In this world, popularity equals suckiness–unless the artist was intending to be ironic in the first place, in which case their popularity is a great inside joke. Here, it’s more important to namecheck a band’s influences than to know what a whole note is or how to tune a drum kit. What the lead singer wore is more important than the words she sang, or whether she sang in tune, or, if not, why not.