
One of Chicago's two high-profile rock critics (the other being The Chicago Tribune's Greg Kot), DeRogatis has a real knack for raising the hackles of many a music fan for what many believe is unreasonable, unfair, or pointedly unrealistic reviews of music -- both live and recorded -- of fans' favorite bands. A long-standing devotee of the Lester Bangs' School of Rock Writing (Bangs' bloodletting is available in the aptly titled "Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung" book, edited by Greil Marcus), DeRogatis can annoy by constantly harkening back to the Golden Age of many (most? all?) artists he reviews. He is disappointed in Van Morrison recordings and performances because they aren't Astral Weeks. He laments that R.E.M. of today isn't R.E.M. of Murmer or even Automatic for the People. He wants the 60-year-old Bruce Springsteen to be writing young man's records Born to Run, and Darkness on the Edge of Town. His Neil Young peak was reached in the late 1970s and rare is the recording that can be held up against Tonight's the Night. He rails against U2 for becoming the megastars they are, leaving behind the adventurous and risk-taking foursome that produced War and Achtung Baby! And don't even get him started on the Rolling Stones.
But he does have a point.
Music, particularly rock music, used to represent -- used to be -- a way of life. Artists, the best ones, would share their soul, let loose their emotions, let you in on their secrets, present almost carthartic live shows that would leave concertgoers raving, spent, enthused, enraged, shocked.. something... by the end of the night. But when was the last time you left a concert feeling like that? When was the last time you put a record on the turntable (OK, CD in the player or download on the Ipod) and weren't able to turn it off, instead hitting replay and sitting and listening to it again, whether in joy or disbelief? Not that in never happens but that it rarely happens and DeRogatis thinks that it should happen all the time.
It's clear that it doesn't happen all that often, and that's what DeRogatis is railing against (and probably what he will continue to rail against in his new gig).
Like Bangs, DeRogatis is demanding and unforgiving. He holds new artists to the standards set by those who came before them, connecting dots from doo-wop to R&B to Hendrix and hip-hop, and he thinks if a band connects among those dots it has a lot to live up to. But all new artists aren't going to be The Clash.

And he holds all bands accountable to their own history and own back catalog. In many cases those are pretty tough mountains to reclimb. The Rolling Stones have never surpassed Exile on Main Street and Sticky Fingers -- it's likely they never will. Van Morrison won't write another Astral Weeks. U2 won't be recording another The Joshua Tree. But that's not an indictment of those bands; those records and the tours that supported (or introduced) them are the results of events and people and politics in specific times and specific places. Unless those moments can be repeated, unless we can all become young again, those times and the energy that created that music are gone.
DeRogatis should know that. He can hold a band's 5-star record as a beacon or a tremendous past concert as an event to be cherished and one day hopefully surpassed, but he also needs to recognize those heights are scaled rarely and it's unfair to expect artists to constantly re-reach their peak.
DeRogatis wants records and concerts that are statements -- about the world, the songwriter, the country, the band -- music that says something. He wants to hear risk, adventure, fearlessness (or even fear), and he doesn't want to hear new for new sake and he certainly doesn't want to hear slick. DeRogatis doesn't believe in rock 'n' roll as entertainment. It's not a night in front of the TV and it's not a night out at the movies -- or at least it shouldn't be.
"I believe it should be held up to the status of 'Going out to the show tonight should change your life'," DeRogatis told the Tribune. "It should not just be 'I paid $250 to see Us at Soldier Field and they had a lot of fancy lights.' I hate that. I can't relate to that."
Yes, he does have a point.