Exclusively crunchberries

A while back, Stereogum linked to this site which pokes fun at music critics by pulling and posting the most fancifully florrid passages of their reviews.

Really though, I rather enjoy it. For a person who reads and writes reviews on a regular basis, it's like getting a whole bowl full of Oreo Cookie filling for dessert. This is not bad writing; this is the best part of this particular style of writing.

I think a far more effective criticism of criticism came about when Pitchfork invited David Cross over for a roast. And I don't think criticism of criticism is pointless either. The people that do this, they pour their souls into it. It is their art, even if it is only commentary on the art of others. But a lot of music writers are turning out some incredible writing. I'm going to make more of an effort to call attention to that when I see it.

To get started, Nitsuh Abebe at Pitchfork tears into Rhino's new 90's box set and finds more of himself in there than he's ready to remember:
How many of the tracks you're excited to see here did you actively despise when they were on your teenage radio? Not yet 30 and already so wistful! Pop culture races along, and here is the ambient sound of your teenage years; I have Big Head Todd like a sepia snapshot of me growing up in Colorado and hating Big Head Todd; do we just buy this now and put it in storage for when we retire?
Meanwhile, Liam Colle at PopMatters is all about the new Wolf Parade EP. He even has the balls to title his review "Hungry Like a Wolf Parade":
Getting people to cry-dance is by no means an easy achievement. As such, the power of this band lives in its ability to provoke contrary passions. And despite being in its infancy, Wolf Parade is capable of concocting mesmerizing discord. The promise revealed on this disc is incredible. Guttural and gouging, this is soul music.
Hopefully you'll enjoy these reviews as much as I did.