Pitchfork Reviews People in My Life

A Woman I Went On Two Great, Early-In-The-Game Dates With

An incredible, staggeringly original human being who just appeared on the dating scene. Whereas most first dates find their footing talking about “family” and “jobs,” Eleanor from Bumble breaks the mold with impressive references to '70s-era Fela Kuti Afrobeat, more-than-recreational ketamine usage and “being really into guys with disturbingly coarse back hair.” As with most artists who receive a debut 9.0+ review, Eleanor will never be able to live up to the hype of her debut performance and average a 7.0 rating on subsequent dates.

Rating: 9.3 (Best New Music)

My Landlord

The insistence on talking your ear off when you’re in a rush to grab the train. The outdated, problematic references to people of the Jewish faith. The stacks of mail from the Trump/Pence campaign with her name on it. There’s been plenty of negative press around Carmella the Landlord. If you make it past the bad optics, it’s hard not to admire Carmella’s unpretentious, back-to-basics take on “New York City landlord.” Pay rent on time and she’ll (mostly) stay out of your day-to-day life. It’s 2020: CBGB’s has been replaced by a John Varvatos. You’re more likely to win the Hamilton lottery than find a decent porno theater in Times Square. Luckily, there’s Carmella, a landlord who refuses to let you forget the New York of yesteryear—unpleasantries and all.

Rating: 7.2

My Mom

If it seems low, remember: this is practically the best rating allowed for reliable legacy acts that don’t feature Thom Yorke. Much to everyone’s chagrin, Harris Mayersohn’s mother is no Thom Yorke.

Rating: 8.8 (Best New Reissue)

My 17-Year Old Cousin

Who could’ve anticipated Cousin Logan—the once buzzy family member heralded as a “young Uncle Mark” (7.8)—handling his puberty-era so poorly? Feels like just yesterday Logan was being written up in every major Christmas letter as Aunt Judy’s “charming lil munchkin.” Here we are, though, fresh off two of Logan’s most cringe-worthy blow-ups at the family reunion picnic (drinking beer without his dad’s permission; calling Grandma Harriett a “see you next Tuesday”). Cousin Logan continues to discover new depths at which to sink. Here’s hoping this human embodiment of late-era Kings of Leon lays low for the rest of his teens.

Rating: 1.8

The MTA Employee Who Makes Weekend L-Train Announcements

Relying on more distortion than a My Bloody Valentine record, MTA Worker Carlos’ avant-garde approach to informing you about the train schedule isn’t for everyone. Art students will notice subtle nods to ambient composer William Basinski. Passive train-goers will be thrown off—possibly even enraged—by his unrefined artistic style and seeming contempt for everyone’s scheduled lives. Those who stick with Carlos, though, will be rewarded tenfold with the vision of an urban bedroom-pop artist, which is something we just made up. With each train that doesn’t arrive, his MTA announcements play more like performance art pieces than crucial civil service. We’re not giving it Best New Music, though, because there’s no consistency to our wildly arbitrary ratings system.

Rating: 8.0

My Therapist

Therapist Randy Kiedis is done listening to your bullshit. 42-odd years after getting his PsyD from Fordham, the one-time New York Mag-listed Top Doctor can barely hide his contempt for patients. Still, there’s money to be made in the game—especially when you only accept out-of-network clients. If you’re in need of a therapist, you know what you’re getting with Randy, just don’t expect any jolts of inspiration or passion here when you describe that recurring dream you’re having.

Rating: 5.6