By David Fear Everyone over a certain age who’s obsessed with music — rock and rap, punk and funk, everything else from Afropop to Zydeco — has a favorite, go-to Robert Christgau consumer guide review. These were the tightly wound little capsules that the self-proclaimed “dean of rock criticism” started penning in a Village Voice column back in 1969, complete with letter grades; the 83-year-old writer still gins up these brief, opinionated shots across the bow every month on his Substack account. Can’t stop, won’t stop, etc. Boots Riley, filmmaker and former member of the Coup, has a soft spot for Christgau’s review of his 2012 album Sorry to Bother You, because when he reads it, “I hear him listening.” Novelist Colson Whitehead digs the shots-fired dismissal of the Eagles’ Desperado, which calls out its “barstool-macho equation of gunslinger and guitarschlonger…”.…