There is art that revels in loudness, and art that embraces subtlety. They can coexist. A Palahniuk novel does not negate an Ishiguro. The world is too big and audiences too fragmented for any one thing to dominate.
The decline and death of classical music illustrates as much. The barrier to entry for the subtle works of the old masters is too high in the face of easily accessible garbage.
Or look to fine art, where people are more aware of Jeff Koons' balloon animals than they are Bouguereau's The First Mourning or the sculpture of Daumier.