Hello, and welcome again to Pitchfork's Point- Counterpoint cyber- forum. We've selected three critics with wildly varied backgrounds to engage in a confrontational exchange of ideas and opinions. First off, we have with us lauded academic critic Dr. Marcus Grayle, a Yale music theorist who's just written a 567- page tome entitled "Sound as Silence: Polyphony in John Cage's Four Minutes of Silence." Dr. Grayle's mental sparring partners are 13- year- old New Jersey resident Billy "Scooter" Perkins who is a staff writer for his junior high school's monthly newsletter, and 2- year- old Gil, head music critic at Toddler Beat magazine. Adorably enough, our little Gil is still struggling to sound out the most basic of English phrases. Luckily, that's never kept anyone from having a successful career in rock journalism. The topic for discussion today concerns new age/ experimental rock guitarist Michael Brook's recently reissued 4AD albums, Cobalt Blue and Live at the Aquarium.

Pitchfork: First of all, is it fair to label Mr. Brook as simply "new age?" We'll start with you, Dr. Grayle.

Grayle: Well, he's not exactly John Tesh, if that's what you mean. Oddly enough, though, I'm now thinking about that Mike Oldfield- influenced new age pop pioneer Ray Lynch and his breakthrough 1988 album Deep Breakfast.

Pitchfork: Ah, yes. I'm sure we all remember the miniature crossover success of "Celestial Soda Pop." What exactly made you think of Deep Breakfast?

Grayle: Just hungry, perhaps. I've just spent ten days fasting in Mongolia. Less is more, you know. As an academic critic, it's my sacred duty to make arcane references and to be generally oblique. My scholastic background is in art history, and I'd say Brook uses the guitar like a great impressionist would a paintbrush. Brook doesn't muck around with dense pointillist soundscapes, or mere slapdash abstractions. Rather, he dazzles with an array of broad, measured strokes. He also revels in taut melodic understatement. Brook seems to pore fastidiously over each picked note, shaping it to near- perfect ends. In this sense, Brian and Roger Eno, guest musicians on Cobalt Blue are ideal collaborators for Brook. Sometimes they provide raga- influenced accompaniment, and at other times, more classical- derived instrumental backing. Although sometimes I think Roger's just a dispensable beneficiary of nepotism. I think he plays the triangle, and fetches the tea and scones or something.

Pitchfork: But you'll agree that Brook's music seems have a depth and richness to it that most new age artists-- namely Lynch-- sorely lack. I mean, the Tangerine Dream-y percussive underpinnings sometimes sound like they were swiped from the "Risky Business" soundtrack. But in fact, the way Brook melds jazz and rock styles on numbers like "Slipstream," "Lakbossa" and "Urbana" sounds more like Bill Frisell.

Grayle: Well, of course. It may not always be evident to the untutored ear, but Brook works from a broad palette of musical colorings: classic rock, Middle Eastern influences, experimental country blues, modal jazz. His attention to silence and restraint approaches that of players like Frisell and U2's the Edge. He has an impeccable sense of texture, and a keen ability to know when not to play. To make a visual analogy, Brook's work on Cobalt Blue reminds me of viewing the mesmerising geometric simplicity inherent in Frank Stella's concentric squares series. Of course, I must admit a two- disc set is a bit much. I mean, the live translation of Cobalt Blue doesn't offer much deviation from the studio recording-- Live at the Aquarium contains much of the same material as Cobalt Blue. In the end, though, the fact that Brook has released only three or four solo albums in the last fifteen years confirms his status as a minimalist genius.

Scooter: What the hell did this punk- ass Star Trek- talkin' bitch say? Lemme say somethin', ladies. All I know is that Michael Brook plays guitar like old people fuck-- he's a damn pussy. The shit's repetitive, too. Creed, Korn, and fuckin' Metallica. Those guys say it all. Hard n' heavy, dude-- the faster the better; the better the cooler. And when you're cooler, you kick much ass. And if you kick ass, you automatically qualify as a bad ass. When you're a bad ass...

Grayle: We get the picture, boy. Although I must tell you a bit about what you claim is mere "repetition." If you were to ever read Heraclitus, you'd know that repetition is change. If you immerse your foot in an ever- flowing stream, is that stream really the same stream as it was before you placed your foot in the water? Of course not! It's never really the same stream. Brook's patented "Infinity" guitar creates, on tracks like "Cascade," a continuum of carefully- considered notes that changes in myriad ways even as they stay the same.

Scooter: Eh, blow it out'chy'ass, professor. All this talk about streams n' flowin' makes me hafta take a piss. Listen to his lame- ass, arthritic playing. My eight- year- old retarded cousin could play that shit! Who needs all that pansy- ass chorus and echo crap? Just get a good Death Metal stompbox, pink Ibanez shredder axe, some dreadlocks, size 40 jeans and blow this place to kingdom come!

Pitchfork: Well, fellas, we've been ignoring baby Gil over here long enough. What do you say, Gilly-Willy? Is the soft, shimmering monotony of Michael Brook's guitar as rewarding as, say, thumb- sucking? Devouring a box of crayolas?

Baby: It like radio goo goo... radio ga ga... [hic]

Grayle: Brevity is the soul of wit, my learned little tyke. May I have some of your strained peas? Uh, why the confused look? Uh oh...

Pitchfrok: Judging from that foul stench eminating from baby Gil's general direction, it's safe to say he's expressed the strongest, and certainly the most pungent opinion on this Michael Brook compilation. Scholar Dr. Grayle's well thought- out argument finishes a close second, and sadly Scooter's infantile ravings finish last in my book. In fact, Billy, would you mind changing Gil's diaper, there?

Scoots: Ah, fuck you, ya elitist commie fascists.

-Michael Sandlin