If anyone is interested - I wrote a song about one specific critic.
My good friend (and lots of our Scottish friends) know the performer who was criticised. He's a good singer/voice and very good guitar technique.
He did the warm up for Clannad up in Inverness - I wasn't there, but got to Inverness after the concert on the Sunday night of the concert, and in the pub where the folkies gathered afterwards - everyone said ( genuinely) how well he had performed. The critique came out in the local newspaper on the following Tuesday - and absolutely lambasted the performer. When I saw the folkie crowd on the following Friday , quite a few presumably after reading the critique, had changed or moderated their opinions expressed on the previous Sunday. Responsible , constructive criticism , and suggestions how to improve the whole performance scenario can and should be helpful to the performer - but this so-called critique was just mud slinging and hurtful and I was amazed how peoples memories of the event were changed. The message is, always be careful of what you read in print, whether it be a football report or political comment an account of this or that, the pen is still a mighty weapon.

Here goes … For the tune there are one or two people around who sing it , and Gary and Vera Aspey made a great job of it on their recording Nightshift Army

He couldn't sing, he couldn't clown,
No, - his art it was in putting people down,
He couldn't play, but he could write,
And with his pen he went and broke a heart last night.

He sits alone, with blinkered view,
Doesn't know the hours of practice people do,
To play the songs, - to get 'em right,
He simply took his pen and broke a heart last night.

Chorus / refrain                                                                              
                                    
Well it's a mystery to me., - how the critic" formed" your memory,
Now are you telling me, your eyes and ears deceived you!!

He never heard the crowds' applause,
And as they made their exit through the theatre doors,
He never shared their wild delight,
Instead, he took a pen and broke a heart last night.

To read his words - they made no sense,
They never matched our recollection of events,
Only fools believe, what bigger fools write!         
Take care the critic's breaking hearts again tonight.,   

(almost repeat of the previous 2 lines :-)
Only fools believe, what bigger fools write!
Take care the critic's changing minds again tonight.