The catchall criticism for noise as a form of music is that,
because it often seems so unordered and illogical, it must be
simple and pedestrian. Play some for a cynic, and short of
outright disapproval, you'll probably be greeted with a
categorical response: "I could do that, too." There are a
handful of mostly irrefutable ways to come back at that idea--
"Well, you didn't," for instance, or, "OK, tell me how." But
don't be so snappy, not yet: Noise music, at least for me,
should retain some element of mystery, some air of unknowing;
after all, if it's an intentional obliteration of the structures
and sounds you've known from the first time you heard "Electric
Company" or "Sesame Street", it should force you to ask the most
basic questions of what it is, how it is made, and why it is
made. And in the quest for those illusory answers, the best
noise, drone, and sound experimentation should either pull you
in or blow you away, reaffirming that the thing itself is more
provocative than the motions behind it.