Death by merger: Pitchfork is now GQ
By Max Bratter ’25, A&E Editor
If an indie band plays a bedroom pop song and nobody is around to hear it, then did they really make any music at all? Oppositely, if an indie band plays a bedroom pop song and everybody hears it, are they really an indie band? These conundrums might not be how critics of GQ’s decision to merge Pitchfork’s content into their overall brand decide to frame it, but the inquiries are valid. Pitchfork, one of the only publications that focuses solely on reviewing music, regardless of popularity, that is of mainstream notoriety was once a bastion for celebrating all walks of musicality at a time when the artform was still primarily a physical purchase and not endlessly accessible. Now, with Pitchfork seemingly becoming a subsidiary component of GQ’s brand, there are worries whether the review site can still stay true to their opinions and remain uncorrupted by the major connections that their bosses wield.
This concern returns to the questions that introduced this piece. On one hand, will Pitchfork still have the facilities and corporate support to bring attention to smaller artists through their reviews and reporting,
rather than just focusing on box office acts? On the other, will their newly-broadened audience violate the innocence of diamond-in-the-rough performers with the ferocious consumerism that GQ has conditioned in them, as a result of commercial shamelessness exemplified by that of the magazine’s incessant “must-buy” lists.
GQ is known more so for their online footprint than their fashionista beginnings at this point; refer to their “10 Essentials” or “Couples Quiz” series that consistently employ all genres of celebrities. With this overwhelming superstar network in mind, it is evident that staying in the good grace of the pop-culture sphere has not just become critical toward GQ’s success, but is essentially their main form of sustenance. In contrast, Pitchfork is at its most viral when their critics stand ten-toes-down for their opinions, regardless of whatever feathers they ruffle. Even if GQ continues to promote Pitchfork as its own publication that does not represent the views of the magazine, who’s to say that the celebrities that have become so pivotal to GQ’s brand will sympathize with the distinction. Would Travis Scott still have agreed to do “10 Things Travis Scott Can’t Live Without,” a YouTube video that garnered over 2 million views, after reading that Pitchfork rated his latest album
(Utopia) a 5.7/10 earlier in the same year? It is difficult to say, but not implausible to believe the worst-case scenario. Pitchfork’s most no-
table product are these album review scores and it is unfortunately a commodity that is hard to actually commodify for capital.
This merger with GQ was inevitable, as Pitchfork’s viability as a standalone business became a losing battle. This is emphasized by how music fans have continued to seek different outlets for praise or criticism of
music acts on the same platform that GQ has made into their highest performing attribute: YouTube. YouTube music critics like Anthony Fantano (TheNeedleDrop) and Shawn Cee attach a face and a personality that enables their audience to connect with who they view as actual people about the respective subject matter, rather than the mere name and num-
ber that Pitchfork has always provided. Social media platforms like X (formerly known as Twitter) has shown that Pitchfork readers notice when some apparently anonymous critic has been consistently bashing their favorite artists. This is captured by X user @Ian_Music_, who in 2020 posted Pitchfork reviews — all by the same writer — who deemed Lil Uzi
Vert’s Eternal Atake (2020) as an 8.4/10 and Lil Tecca’s Virgo World as a 6/10 compared to the 4.9/10 that was given to Kid Cudi’s Man On The Moon III, an album that the user clearly thought was superior to the other examples.
Pitchfork’s journalism has developed a lack of personal attachment and flavor that used to be so prevalent during the prime of the magazine era with publications like The Source and XXL reviewing music that had to be tangibly bought to enjoy. Reviews could potentially be these readers’ first impression of an album that they were debating buying, but the streaming
era has given everybody the ability to form their opinions preemptively without toleration for dissent because it has become a person-
al slight to not share the same musical taste.
This feeling is intensified by the faceless figures of Pitchfork’s review staff that has been replaced by the multi-faceted personalities of
the aforementioned YouTubers, and one that GQ seemed all too aware of as a natural disadvantage of the Internet environment. The merger is destined to spark further debate over the future of both print and digital publiclications. What company is next on the chopping block? Only time will tell.