Unless you’ve been on blog vacation (abbreviation: blogcation) (no), this week you learned that Pitchfork Media believes that yes you can even give a numerical ranking to two adorable pugs, and that ranking is a 3.3, and Black Kids also happen to be as appealing as two adorable pugs. Burn? Well not as much of a burn as the original review that went up very early in the morning, in which the album actually got a 0.0 (I think they realized that the hate mail from pug owners would be overwhelming), but yeah, Black Kids are the latest sacrifice on the altar of build up/take down story making, and this was Pitchfork’s apology to you for doing it.
Obviously people have been up in arms about the nonreview, which is at least partially the point of a nonreview, but let’s be honest: Giving the band the dis/joke review treatment was doing ‘em a favor. Better that than the indifference of a middling score, right? Look at Dr. Dog today. 5.5. Who cares. We like Dr. Dog, we like Fate, but who’s going to rally around a 5.5? At least Black Kids fans (we know you’re out there somewhere and also we know you have a subscription to NME) now have a cause, and a bond, and a new favorite kind of puppy. And the Kids seem to be taking it in stride: MTV sat with the band and asked for their thoughts on the piece. Kid Reggie: “I think it’s the most awesome review for a record I’ve ever seen in my life,” which looks a little better on paper than it does on his face, but at least he’s on message.
(via MTV’s Newsroom)
Black Kids also played Letterman last night, doing “I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How To Dance With You.” They seemed alright. But let’s cut to the real issue here: Everyone keeps calling those pugs in the review LOLDogs, because there are dogs involved and because everyone has no imagination. Who’s LOLing? Not those dogs. They’re a little closer to Fail Dogs, I think, at least in intent. There’s no such thing as Sorry Dogs, apparently, unless you are a band on MySpace (not worth clicking). This of course is the debate of any real consequence; the rest is too silly to take seriously.