[A] It depends, right? So say "rock," as it's called: electric guitar. Jazz: saxophone. Funk, etc.: drum kit. "Rock and roll": human voice. Folk: "human voice." Jazz: also piano. Trumpet doesn't fit anywhere despite Satchmo.

[A] She didn't slip under my radar. But while I've found her interesting as an artist, she's never seemed quite compelling. Just played the new one and thought it sounded like a B plus. (Also thought the Erotica comparison an overstatement.) That said, I'd need to listen more before it sinks in enough to finalize that informed conjecture.

[A] I edited all the critics you cite above and was fond of all of them as people—even Leighton, a sweet man who was inevitably late with his copy. Sandow and especially Johnson proved good friends and I always respected Gann. Moreover, John Rockwell—who started at the NYT as a classical guy before becoming the chief pop critic—is one of my closest pals; he and his wife were here for dinner a few nights ago. But with a few exceptions I've cited before—Stravinsky's Rite of Spring, Beethoven's C Sharp Minor Quartet—I have little active interest in "classical" music. Not a judgment, though I could transform it into one. My ears are very happy as they are—and by the way are in pretty good shape for 83.

[A] Seems like you've done a more than adequate job of pinning things down. Having always thought they were absolutely overrated—dud, C+, dud, B+, B-—I recommend you put this false step behind you and give, oh, Jefferson Airplane a visit.

[A] I'm pretty sure I met Boyd on one U.K. venture or another, although I don't recall the details. But I sure know his name and was so flattered when he called me and Carola up in NYC that we invited him and his wife over. They proved exceptionally interesting and sociable people, and I was quite flattered when he complimented me in the frontispiece to his book. Reading the book, however, is another matter for me, because I tend to read on my back in bed and have a bad left elbow that puts a 960-page tome like this one out of my range physically. Carola, however, has gotten into it. She's impressed by his knowledge of various "folk" and international styles, and as a resident of London for much of the late '60s found Boyd's knowledge of its bohemian variants accurate and evocative.

[A] From a limp-dick like you, that's a compliment. Thanks for caring.

[A] In my family lore the name Christgau is either North German or Danish—there is a Danish coffee brand of that name, an empty bag of which hangs on my office door. And huzzah huzzah, as noted in a strange coincidence you can find below but as I've long known, Minnesotan Victor Christgau was an early director of the Social Security Administration, which is something for all Christgaus to be proud of. Plus, oops, a Minnesotan jerkola named, oops, Robert Wayne Christgau was once arrested for driving his pickup with a young kid on the roof. Hope he did hard time for that.

[A] The answer, obviously, is that they're two different but related experiences, with the recording generally more foundational, although it happens a lot that seeing a performer you've never heard before live inspires you to buy his/her/their recordings. One nice thing about records is that they tend to be a lot cheaper; another is that by familiarizing the listener with the artist's material they generally render the performance more revelatory. And of course, many artists make more money on the road than they do from royalties.

[A] Tuneful, implies simple and catchy. Melodic has more duration in it. Which is not to say I feel any need to be strict and/or absolute about the distinction.

[A] Shock? Nah. Barely even a surprise. As I recall, it was my minimalist avant-garde colleague Tom Johnson who first alerted me to the Plastic People of the Universe, who evolved into Pulnoc. As for the P.S. 122 show, which Carola and I attended a few blocks from home and enjoyed tremendously, someone but I no longer recall who made me/us a CD of that show, which Carola and I enjoyed tremendously just this morning. Under the title "Reality Czech," Carola also reviewed Jana Chytlovas's documentary The Plastic People of the Universe. And as it happens, my fan Joe Yanosik has published a book called A Consumer Guide to the Plastic People of the Universe.

[A] By moving coats around in my hallway I was discombobulated to discover I've shelved, alphabetically of course, what looks like hundreds of homemade cassettes, none of which I've played in years. Couldn't find a Clash one, unfortunately. Sorry.

[A] Because over half a century I've found that a lot of people either agree with me about what's "delightful" or enjoy my rhetoric.

[A] Right. The '90s were a boom time for the music industry, driven in part by the arrival of almost everything old in a new format: CDs. Consumer Guide is at heart exactly that, a guide, and when a first-rate collection of first-rate songs arrived in the mail, consumer guidance often followed. With a few exceptions, most of the artists you list above recorded a lot of first-rate songs but didn't conceive their output in terms of albums, which at their best tend to be structured so they flow, to include tracks that may not be irresistible on their own but intrarelate (note: the previous word is not "interrelate," although that can happen with successions of songs as well). Greatest hits records hit home differently, track by track by track. Unsurprisingly, they suit artists who rode through their careers on the strength of memorable songs—some hits, some evocative of similar hits, others strung together by the artist in question's unique style and vocal identity.

[A] Remembering with certainty why I made that call half a century ago is pretty much impossible, but I can certainly see a logic there. A, B, C, and D don't stand for anything. They're the first four letters of the alphabet, just as 1, 2, 3, 4 are the first four numbers. To resort to F, which clearly stands for "Fail," would be to abandon that logic. E gives us five grades, with E the lowest and "Plus" and "Minus" available for further detail work. But did I ever actually resort to E Plus or E Minus? I dimly recall doings, and by checking my site—Tom Hull is unstoppable—have determined that there are seven E+'s, fifteen E's, and two E-'s (Aorta, Kim Fowley).

[A] Sure I'm missing something by not searching out singles. I'm also missing something by never visiting New Zealand. But do I hear enough great music in the course of my life? Damn right—few humans hear more, and focusing on albums as I have for 60 years has proven an enriching way to do that.

[A] I assume you mean 2024's Gratitude, of which I wasn't aware until I got this question, which says something about how "unnoticed" it's been. Streaming it first listen on Spotify as I write and would say solid, as she generally has been. But only time will tell—suitable breakfast music will enable me to check it out with my secret weapon the Carola Test. Would observe for the nonce that that's what Blige has always been: solid. Would observe that at 54 she's still an unmistakable pro. Would also observe that pros generally need something a little more scintillating than solid to break into the A list and that I'd handicap this as what I call an Honorable Mention.

[A] My suspicion after one play of Geese's Getting Killed is that your Television/Patti/Talking Heads comparison is a bit hyper. But I'll certainly play it again and at a guess would allow as how it might be some kind of A.

[A] I may be forgetting something, but I don't recall a single chansonnier (is there female variant of that term?) who's rung my chimes. I miss the African-American groove too much is one problem. But a while back I gave an A minus to a 2010 album called Bad Reputation: Pierre de Gaillande Sings Georges Brassens, in which de Gaillande translates and sings a bunch of Brassens's chansons. I ranked it 31st in that year's Dean's List. So I found it in my shelves and gave it a spin, which sounded damn good, funny and occasionally filthy (it's on Spotify). I read French moderately well, but I barely speak it unless I'm ordering food. Carola's French is quite good and when we've vacationed there she's run the show and saved our asses. Similarly, both she and Nina have run the show when we've visited Italy, where Nina's studied the language a little, although I do the driving, which in Italy is something to brag about.

[A] Two of the most renowned science fiction novelists are Black. One is the also quite feminist Octavia E. Butler (I've read Wild Seed and Kindred, which I admired though they didn't stick with me—this was well over a decade ago). The other is Harlem native Samuel R. Delany, a great. The acknowledged classics are Stars in My Pocket Like Grains of Sand and The Motion of Light in Water. Plus there's the wonderful East Village memoir Heavenly Breakfast. Delany is gay and writes about it sometimes. He's 83. I deal with him at some length in Book Reports.

[A] I have not encountered the film but will keep an eye out for it. Another Green World is the only Eno album I play anything like regularly—I mean, I own something like over 10,000 CDs not to mention LPs, so give me a break. But your letter inspired me to return for at least four-five tracks to Taking Tiger Mountain, Before and After Science, and Here Come the Warm Jets. They all sounded good, but (as I'd anticipated) Warm Jets was tops. Rocked a little more, for one thing.