"Endless" indeed: that's three verdicts offered from a single magazine in a five month stretch this year!
Of the three, the Richard Brody take struck the loudest chord with me. After Clock-watching earlier this year when it came to LA, I concluded that it was postmodernism's Sistine Chapel - an achievement of grand scale, at once about and in collusion with faithlessness and the desacralisation of art... a testament to an ever-deteriorating inability to get lost in the work of art (the film, the long-playing record, or indeed the rave - having gone to one at the weekend and been startled by how many people were texting or phone-videoing or otherwise social-mediatising the experience they were only partial-immersed in)
in that sense, truly epochal, deserving of all the column inches
but, as Brody says, a love-less masterpiece... a delightful disenchantment
a mash-up... the art world equivalent of "IntroInspection" (and look how someone's labored to depict the appropriate record-covers for every appropriated intro)
enabled by, expressive of, the same digital facility
the technology itself eloquently speaking its dark will to dis-integrate