In 2020, Halsey infamously tweeted, ‘Can the basement that they run Pitchfork out of just collapse already’, in response to a seemingly poor review of her album, Manic which scored a meagre 6.5 out of 10. Clearly, she wasn’t happy with her album being referred to as the “tedium of modern pop.” Unfortunately, it only got worse when Pitchfork scored her most recent album an even more pitiful 4.8. So, is that it for Halsey? Should she be cast off as an objectively bad musician because one reviewer, speaking for a platform that lauds itself as “the most trusted voice in music,” disliked her album? Or is it more likely that Pitchfork’s review simply reflects one critique, valid as any other, which highlights the subjectivity of criticism (or praise) in music?
There is an attitude that professional review platforms (Rolling Stone, NME, and Metacritic, to name some others) possess a certain authority and validity in their critiques because their critics are the most knowledgeable, right? If you’re a reviewer who has dedicated your time to learning about, listening to and rating music then surely your critiques become infallible and indisputable. I would argue, however, that there’s no way to rate music, or any art form really, objectively. Even if you are an absurdly over-qualified professional, as opposed to someone who listens exclusively to the UK Top 40. The sheer idea of an objective rating undermines the purpose of most music as an art form and the intentions of many artists behind releasing music. There is an emotional, personal and creative aspect in releasing music which will not speak to an audience equally.
Of course, there are professional musicians or people working in the industry whose experience provides them with a higher-value opinion, but this doesn’t automatically make them a voice of reason. Plus, most musicians aren’t trying, or even need, to prove their musical ability. It’s not as if they’re undertaking an exam to evince an aptitude for scales or arpeggios and be rated in their objective skill. They usually want to convey a message, even if that message is trivial and banal, or protesting the status-quo. But people, with their idiosyncratic cultural backgrounds, academic histories, life experiences and personalities, aren’t going to form one neat, collective response to someone’s music.
Essentially, for every person who would rate something 10/10, there are as many who would rate it the opposite. Aspects of music that are crucial in determining that coveted status of perfection (lyrics, production, intent, coherence, to name a few) are subject to personal taste. For example, some think indecipherable and affectatious lyrics make a 10/10 album and some would rather not pick up a dictionary every time they listen to a song. Is there even such a thing as a 10/10 album? I don’t even think I have any 10/10 albums, as opposed to ones I really, really like. Personally, I have a hard time discerning whether I think an album is actually that good or if I’m totally blinded by my personal adoration for it (maybe I’m more aligned with the pretentious musical cynicism of Pitchfork than I think).
Album ratings can be fun, but they fail to accurately measure success. Reducing an album to a number implies there’s a “true value” to be found and disregards the fact that music criticism can often be completely ambivalent. Sometimes people love things that others think lack quality! Just look at the Billboard Hot 100, for instance. The subjective viewpoints we can hold as individuals towards the same thing are exactly what makes discussing music with others so interesting yet sometimes infuriating. Ultimately, the fact that responses to music are so unpredictable and individualistic should liberate musicians from anticipating their work’s reception and encourage them to create freely and authentically instead.
“Halsey September 2019” by Justin Higuchi from Los Angeles is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

