Last week, the world of music journalism ( and digital media in general) was rocked by news that Pitchfork, a property of Conde Nast, would be folding into one of its other properties, GQ. According to BBC, Condé Nast revealed the alterations and associated job cuts last Wednesday through an email from chief content officer Anna Wintour. Two unions representing Pitchfork staff expressed strong disapproval of the decision. The decision was sudden and seemingly impersonal-Variety even reports that "Wintour didn't take off her sunglasses the entire time she met with employees of Pitchfork this week to tell them they were losing their jobs."
Many longtime readers of Pitchfork have commented on the website's decline over the years since its acquisition by Conde Nast, some claiming that it has lost its bite and credibility. Slate writer Scott Nover asserts that the simultaneously beloved and infamous website's fate was sealed as soon as it was acquired by the mega-conglomerate, questioning if Condé Nast Even Read Pitchfork. Acquired in 2015, Nover claims, "Nine years after that acquisition, Condé Nast finished the job it started..."
Pitchfork was never a perfect website. It was often slow to adopt newer music trends or, at least initially, give attention to genres like rap and pop-they had even admitted that it had missed the mark with several ratings in its notorious rescoring article. The image one would conjure in their mind's eye when asked to imagine a typical Pitchfork reader at the height of its popularity, for many, would be that of a disaffected millennial, a hipster, a Tumblr user-all of which tended to draw the ire of so-called normal folks. Their reviews were more often than not, unflinching and brutal, for some, this signaled their authenticity and uncompromised voice, the refreshing voice of reason floating amongst a sea of rather tame and middling criticism of other music websites, though for many music enthusiasts and hardcore "standoms," it constituted another unforgivable crime.
While Pitchfork has long held a contentious place in the world of music journalism, either considered beloved or infamous depending on who you ask, there is no doubt that it also holds a significant place in both the music world and the broader cultural zeitgeist. To be sure, it is never fun to read negative reviews of your favorite artists; while it had become a classic pastime for the music fan to decry the "unfair" judgment Pitchfork had "wrongfully" imbued on their favorite album or musician, there is much to admire about a music blog so willing to go against the grain, to not worry about the inevitable backlash associated with speaking their truth."
Regardless of the personal convictions and opinions many hold toward the website, there seems to be an overarching sadness concerning the news of the merger, even from those on the other end of their negative reviews. Dan Le Sac, a producer who notoriously received a 0.2/10 rating for the album Angles took to his X (formerly Twitter) account to comment on the merger, stating: "Pitchfork getting gutted is a net negative for musicians everywhere. And I say that as the proud owner of (potentially) the lowest score on the site. Whether you agree with a reviewer or not, music needs more journalism, not less."
In his eulogy for the site, Casey Newton writes:
"In the early days I remember laughing out loud at Pitchfork's reviews, which often ran into the thousands of words and at times seemed to have little to do with the music itself. Over time, though, I came to appreciate the vast musical knowledge possessed by even the most occasional freelancer for the site. Open a review of a band you had never heard of and you could be certain the piece would place their new record in the context of everything else they had ever recorded, the genre in which they operated, and possibly the entire history of recorded music."
Writing for The Guardian, Laura Snapes contends that Pitchfork's absorption into GQ is a travesty for music media - and musicians. The former Pitchfork writer stated, "Pitchfork's editors were extraordinarily committed to investing in new critical talent, the writers and editors who were the driving force in unearthing and chronicling the defining alternative acts of the 21st century..."
What does this mean for music journalism as a whole? With a current landscape focused on paid promotional reviews and neutrality, is there a place for unapologetic reporting? Of course, Pitchfork is not the only music website known for its aggressive style, and many niche music blogs pass its brutality, but for a mainstream and accessible website, it is exceedingly rare, especially when the expectation is for these websites to act as a catalyst for promotion and ad revenue.
Another sad reality to grapple with is the fact that many talented music writers, whether you agree with them or not, are currently out of work. The climate for digital media is becoming increasingly precarious, with even legacy brands like Sports Illustrated significantly downsizing. This leaves questions of financial stability, access to benefits, and other basic needs for writing living in high-cost living areas, as necessitated by the nature of their work. Yet, amid the uncertainty, the possibility of resilient journalists banding together to forge new paths mirrors the spirit that birthed Pitchfork.
In the wake of Pitchfork's merger with GQ, the music journalism landscape faces a poignant moment of reflection. The loss is felt not just in the world of music journalism but also in the broader cultural tapestry where Pitchfork once stood as a distinct voice, challenging norms and shaping musical discourse.
