Robert Christgau has been writing music criticism for 60 years, and he's still going. At 83, the legendary critic who coined the capsule review format and championed hip-hop before most critics knew what it was gets his due in 'The Last Critic,' a documentary that premiered at SXSW Film Festival. Director Matty Wishnow's film follows Christgau as he works on his annual Pazz Jop poll from his Manhattan apartment, surrounded by decades of accumulated vinyl, CDs, and the detritus of a life spent listening.
The documentary's title might suggest doom for the profession, but Wishnow's film is anything but demoralizing. Instead, it reveals how good criticism can be when handled by a master who has been churning out reviews since the 1960s, covering everything from folk and punk to early hip-hop with equal measure of knowledge and flair.
Christgau's approach was revolutionary when he started. Rock criticism was unheard of in the early days, when writers like Christgau, Greil Marcus, and Lester Bangs were forming their own niche within New Journalism. While others wrote lengthy rockstar profiles, Christgau created his half-ironically named "Consumer Guide" column at the Village Voice, banging out short reviews—often less than 100 words—and giving albums letter grades like a schoolteacher.
His reviews ran short, but they were anything but slapdash. The film shows Christgau's meticulous process: he often listened to the same album several times before passing judgment. This depth of engagement allowed him to build a reputation as a make-or-break critic who could be "blunt as fuck," celebrating artists like Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, and The Ramones while trashing Billy Joel, Pink Floyd, and The Eagles.
That optimistic pronouncement comes from someone who otherwise presents as a classic New York curmudgeon—Christgau quips that a French woman once said he was like "Woody Allen with long hair." But his curiosity has remained expansive, allowing him to write as competently about rap as about folk, while also serving as something of an authority on African music.
The documentary features interviews with musicians whose careers were shaped by Christgau's verdicts. Boots Riley, formerly of The Coup, received praise that mattered. Sonic Youth's Thurston Moore, on the other hand, got such brutal takedowns that he dissed the critic in an early song—though Christgau eventually came around to the band on subsequent albums.
Christgau's influence on younger writers proves equally significant. The film includes interviews with journalists for whom he was a major influence and sometimes mentor, particularly Black writers who shared his passion for hip-hop. His early championing of the genre stands out: as early as 1981, Christgau listed the compilation album "Greatest Rap Hits Vol. 2" as his top record of the year, at a time when most critics dismissed hip-hop as unworthy street music.
- Started the Pazz Jop poll at Village Voice in 1971, continues it on his website
- Worked at Village Voice for 30 years as chief music critic
- Early champion of hip-hop, listing rap compilation as top album in 1981
- Created the "Consumer Guide" format of short, graded album reviews
We see this legacy in action as Christgau works from his pack rat's paradise of an apartment, stuffed with records, books, magazines, and newspapers—physical evidence of his omnivorous curiosity. His desktop PC looks ancient, but his output remains steady, banging out reviews as if the digital revolution never happened.
The film's generous approach has limitations. What's missing from Wishnow's homage is what the title seems to promise: a discussion of where criticism has traveled since the 1960s and whether it still has a future. Christgau's methods may have remained constant, but how many people listen to full albums anymore, let alone read professional reviews of them? How many people under 20 even know what an album is?
"The Last Critic" never raises these questions, leaving us instead with Christgau at his keyboard, working as if the times haven't changed. It's perhaps meant as reassurance for those who still believe informed opinion about art remains essential to culture. Whether Christgau truly represents one of the last of his kind, the documentary suggests his approach—deep listening, sharp writing, and genuine curiosity—offers a template worth preserving.
The 83-minute film stands as both biography and argument: that criticism at its best doesn't just evaluate art but helps us understand why certain sounds matter at certain moments. In Christgau's case, that understanding spans from the folk revival through punk's explosion to hip-hop's emergence—a journey through American music that few writers could navigate with equal authority.