The anticipation for Rihanna’s upcoming album Anti, her first full-length record in nearly three years, is reaching a fever pitch among fans. But equally enthusiastic are the publications looking to corner the dialogue about the music before it’s even released, as evidenced in the first “review” of Anti, courtesy of Mic. While nobody at the publication has heard the record, which doesn’t even have an official release date, a glitch in Yahoo’s system has revealed that they’ve already written a Mad Libs-style review of the album, riddled with blanks yet to be filled in.
Skeleton drafts aren’t uncommon for anticipated stories, but it’s the search-results grab that stinks here. As is the case with album releases, masses will soon be searching “Rihanna Anti download,” “Rihanna Anti lyrics,” and “Rihanna Anti streaming” – clearly no titular coincidence with the Mic piece.
With quality writing devalued to the point of disgust in the meme-tastic culture of our modern age, publications are left to fight – in the least ethically valid ways – for any leverage they can get. This is why my Mic is breathlessly celebrating an “edgier, freer” Rihanna, and of course, the unforgettable line [LYRICS] from [TRACK NAME], with their heads deep in their own colonic chasm.
Chris Riotta, the Mic staff writer whose byline appeared on the piece, attempted to clarify that this was not a review:
He’s technically correct, but the article was not an objectively innocuous announcement of release. The review narrative had been written for a record they hadn’t heard. The album’s tone and mood were predesignated, the angle predetermined.
While we can all enjoy some disposable pop-culture tales from time to time, most often the subject matter involves the artist committing some unforeseen hijinks or offense and the resulting fallout/celebration. But when the artistic product is presented for review and translation, even the most ethically half-retarded sense of journalistic responsibility would require at least listening to the album.
Sure, I’ve forensically dismantled albums with the antagonistic glee of a magnifying-glass wielding kid hovering over an anthill – but not without deeply exploring the album to understand its motives. This Linkin Park album review is one great example.
Good or bad, take the goddamn time to listen to the record on which you’re basing your story. Your job may depend on clicks, but your integrity depends on doing that job properly. Who wants to read the words of a spineless writer?
