BRAIN TUBA: If Stuff Didn't Suck... I can't believe I actually have to write this column.

Their names were Beavis and Butthead. And if you think I'm being facetious, you haven't been paying close enough attention.

In this textual analysis and extrapolation, I would like to focus on the conclusion of one of their dialogues having to do with art criticism in light of the present day improvised rock scene. "It's like," Butthead was heard to remark to his sparring partner and philosophical foil, "if there wasn't stuff that sucks, we wouldn't know what was cool." On a structural level, this encompasses several historical trains of though, from the binary opposites of the yin-yang through more modern notions of objectivism and subjectivism.

But do they jam?

Dropping the philosophical pose for a moment (we'll get back to it in a little), here's what it comes down to: every so often, I get emails from people that say, approximately: "hey, man, who are you to be so negative? It's all good." And as much as a negative review of a band might harsh the mellow of a fan (or member) of a particular band, I take personal offense at that kind of reaction to a review -- not because it puts down something I wrote (I can take that), but because I think it's actually offensive to the music itself. As such, when I respond, I almost feel as if I'm defending the music.

Improvised music is one of the most beautiful things in the world. It has the power to generate a genuine ecstatic experience. I suppose all art is theoretically in the same realm, but improvised music does this in an absolutely enthralling way that can transcend the individual and create a shared experience that's both intensely secret and incredibly intimate. I don't think anyone's questioning that. However, so many of these emails have said stuff like "does this music really have to be anything more than fun?" Of course not. But it can be.

Here's why I get offended: I think the "it's all good" attitude ignores that -- or at least marginalizes it to the point where it becomes a bunch of chronically cosmic mumbo jumbo. I think it serves an absolutely monstrous disservice to the music. Sure, at it's best, music is an ineffable experience, but I'd sure like to try to explain it. Of course, the ecstatic experience isn't the only reason to listen to music. Songs can be plain ol' fun. They can also be abstract, deeply serious, and all of that. No music can be everything -- but all music is something, and I think that's worth working on.

That's where criticism comes in. Other emails have said "who are you to say what's good and bad?" Well, I'm me... whatever that means. I'm an absolutely fucking addicted music listener. That's all I am. I think I'd sooner go without my eyes than my ears. I also like to write and read about music, to try and figure out why it's doing these things to my brain and body. I don't have any authority about it. My goal in writing isn't to figure out whether it's good or bad - though sometimes a judgment comes in the bargain - but to figure out how it works; like taking apart a gizmo.

Sometimes, though, one can learn a helluva lot more about the structure of something mechanical by working with a broken item than a functioning one. We'll be back on the philosophical tip in just a minute now. I'm not sure why people have a such predilection against saying that it's possible for something to be bad. Or, even beyond that, take such an aggressive attitude towards the old adage "if you can't say anything nice..." Ignorance is bliss, but - as much as I like it sometimes - I don't really have it in my temperament to willingly be ignorant about something. At least, not this.

Imagine a world where there were only positive record reviews. What's the point? One might as well just provide a list of what's on sale and how to get it -- a straight-up sanctimonious economic gang bang. Like I said, I don't aspire to calling something simply good or bad. The fact remains, though, that there are some bands that simply don't do it for me. Not really a big deal. I'm sure they do it for some. But, I think, there's a lot to be learned by critically examining a band that doesn't split my head open, both by the given band's detractors and fans alike.

A review section with only positive reviews is demeaning to the music because it annihilates the idea that there might any sort of depth to the music we're considering. If that's not the first step towards extinction, I don't know what is. For example, this month, I reviewed an album by Soulfarm that I thought was pretty atrocious. I thought the songs were poorly written (though tightly executed), the so-called jams were wanky and didn't really go anywhere, the lyrics were contrived, and lots of other stuff. From the way the music was presented, with liner notes referring to "raising... to another level", it was obvious that the entire collection was - at least, in theory - the packaging of somebody's ecstatic experience.

In fact, that's a basic assumption about bands in general that I think tends to get lost in the mix: for every band out there, there is almost undoubtedly somebody who thinks they kick the absolute most ass. But, even if that happens, people's asses don't get kicked equally -- on a metaphorical level, people's asses have different shapes, sizes, and weights. So, therefore, it should be possible for the foot of the music to miss the ass of the listener (and, I guess, wind up completely in the mouth of the kicker). In short: a negative review can try to figure out why an album didn't cause the same ecstatic experience in the reviewer as it did in some of the other listeners.

So, what's the point of publishing them? If all music were all good, then it shouldn't matter what people listened to -- it would all provoke quasi-religious experiences. Alas, it's not the case. Stuff does suck, even if it is entirely subjective -- and if anybody can prove conclusively otherwise, I will happily cede my job as a columnist to him or her. In today's pell-mell world, one only has enough time during the week to get his ass kicked. What record reviews do, basically, is compare asses: of the reviewer and of the listener, and of the placement of the record's foot. I think a reviewer's general ass shape is pretty implicit in anything he writes.

Yes, there are many wonderful things about improvised music. An oft-sided reason for going to see a band like the Grateful Dead, Phish, or anybody else in the coagulation is that they often fail. I think the same can be said for the genre of improvised music as a whole. And if we don't examine what fails, how will we know when something is working? More, how will we know how to achieve that same kind of functionality again? I'm only moderately worried about bad bands. I think they'll weed themselves out with time.

I think that some bands are not meant to be successful in terms of the mass production of ecstasy. Some definitely serve smaller, select audiences better. In that sense, there's an off chance, I suppose, that the jamband scene will lose its identity as rock and roll and the musicians will become artisans in the African sense: almost completely utilitarian. Until then, though, it's necessary to figure out who does what. Music can undoubtedly keep getting better, at least in the ears of the listener. I hope that the critical process can help that along -- hopefully by inspiring people to listen critically.

It should be noted, though, that - following his statement - Butthead put his theory into practice, slapping Beavis firmly across the face.

"A huh-huh. That was cool," he declared.

"No way," Beavis responded. "That sucked!"

If you'll excuse me, though, I have to go. The winter nights are long and cold in Ohio. I've already thrown about a half dozen press kits on the fire in the time I was writing this. I only have a few more left, which I need to save for morning, before the next batch of promotional CDs arrive.

Jesse Jarnow would like very much to be anarchy.