The world of Twitter can be hard to navigate. We know that you’re already following us @flavorpill, but we decided it would be fun (and possibly helpful) if we rounded up some of our other Twitter favorites in a series we’re calling “The Followables.” The first set of Twitter all-stars in the spotlight are the music critics we love. Do us a favor and leave a comment with anyone who you enjoy who didn’t make our list.

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Editor’s note: When we read Sasha Frere-Jones‘ recent piece on the death of hip-hop, we didn’t have a witty comeback. What we did have was one name on the brain: Das Racist. A favorite here at Flavorpill HQ thanks to their single “Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell,” the Brooklyn-based rap duo is one of the more exciting new acts on the scene. And as the New York Times recently said, “Das Racist’s lack of piety has become an aesthetic of its own, with songs that are as much commentary on hip-hop as rigorous practice of it.” OK. We’ll turn it over to them now.

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Or as New Yorker music critic Sasha Frere-Jones put it, “Another way to revive rap… take away the music.” What do you think? How long before he’s signed? [via Sasha Frere-Jones]

Even in this crappy economy, The New Yorker is a magazine that we’ll plop down a fiver for at the newsstand. And it has been oddly great lately. So when a rumor cropped up this morning on Twitter that they might be going biweekly or even monthly due to recession pains, we were scared, confused, and devastated. We hit the retweet button, and started rocking back in forth in our desk chair.

But thanks to a point in the right direction from Sarah Weiman our (incorrect) fears were quickly (and sharply) put to rest by the magazine’s own pop-music critic Sasha Frere-Jones. To quote him: “These biweekly/monthly TNY rumors are total bullshit. Report it out, or shut the fuck up. Have a nice day.” And then: “The mags that got hit hardest are the ONES THAT DON’T EXIST ANYMORE. Seriously. This fear-mongering falling-sky shit is. Doing. No. Good.” And finally: “Didn’t mean to bark but it’s maddening to see conjecture being floated. When somebody catches fire or spills something on Si, I’ll tweet it.”

Fine. We’ve learned our lesson about believing everything we read on Twitter (and passing it along…oops!). But while we’re on the topic of upsetting news about The New Yorker, can anyone explain this little token of the apocalypse? File it in the same mental spot you keep Charles Isherwood on Gossip Girl.