The reviews aren't the problem... you are.

God NPR is annoying.

It seems NPR listeners have been complaining that the music reviews are inscrutable and NPR's ombudsman, Jeffery Dvorkin, agrees.

I'll be the first to admit that rock crit--especially indie rock crit--is often intentionally obtuse and incomprehensible. Remember when Sully called out Pitchfork's review of Jon Brion's Eternal Sunshine soundtrack? Yeah, that was justified. If you forgot, let me give you an excerpt to refresh your memory: "Brion's insistence on certain themes popping in and out of his textures seems particularly appropriate, as the soundtrack's fluid matrix performatizes the cinematography's mind/body collapse: In the film, Brion's organi-synthgaze postlude "Phone Calls" plays after Joel decides not to try and save his first memory of Clementine, but just to enjoy it. Here, Brion's score meets Eternal Sunshine's oculophilia halfway, and fittingly comprises one of the film's most potent scenes."

Right.

With that in mind, go to Mr. Dvorkin's column and read excerpts from reviews that he cites as "incomprehensible," "hipper-than-thou" and "arch" and tell me what's so damn confusing.

Slate's Jeffery Wolk nails it on his blog: "I bet that if the Magnetic Fields review had been about Sondheim it wouldn't have been a big deal, and as a friend points out via email, if the Morrissey review had been about, say, David Hockney, nobody would have raised a peep about inscrutability... But the legitimate objection to these reviews--which Dvorkin doesn't actually raise--is that they're bad radio. Phrasing that would be redundant or bland in print is sometimes necessary for a piece that's meant to be heard rather than read."

(Hat tip to Mr. Matos.)