It all started with the New York Times' scathing review of Spooky’s multimedia performance “The Nauru Elegies,” which they called “a well meaning but embarrassing spectacle,” among other things:
High-minded, confusing and boring, the whole thing is an overearnest assemblage simultaneously bloated and thin.
The music is simplistic; the beats are bland; the emotional landscape is vaguely, well, elegiac.
... “The Nauru Elegies” must be counted, at best, a missed opportunity.
Basically, reviewer Zachary Woolfe is a hater, right? That’s the conclusion Spooky reached in his classy reaction post to Facebook:
Yeah, fuck him. But it didn’t end there! Oh no. Justin Davidson, writing (excellently) for New York's Vulture subdivision went hard on Spooky, too:
Paul D. Miller, a.k.a. DJ Spooky That Subliminal Kid, the turntable master who careers from topic to topic with the mild inquisitiveness of an intellectual souvenir collector and the sonic adventurousness of customer-service-line hold music.
Miller treated this place of epic misery as a source of inspiration, though what he wound up extracting was a home movie with a shrink-wrapped soundtrack — aesthetically impoverished and self-important.
There hasn’t been a tech-socially mediated denunciation from Spooky yet on that review, unfortunately. But we guess it’s something along the lines of “fuck that guy.”
After all is said and done, perhaps Spooky summated the problem, and the solution, best of all:
Did you know that the terms 'silent’ and 'listen’ contain the same letters? I just thought I’d point that out.