Media Representations in Music

Source: Article - http://www.spiked-online.com/newsite/article/nme-and-the-death-of-themusic-press/14695%20-%20.VLaJzyusUuc#.VN4EC_msWSo

The Decline of Music Mags Reveals a lot about The Poverty of Youthful
Ambition
Circulation figures for what remains of the music press are
looking very grim indeed. Monthly magazine Q is down to
50,000 copies a month compared to its monthly figures of
200,000 in the Nineties, while Uncut and Mojo are in
circulation freefall, too. However, it is the collapse of the iconic New Musical Express (NME) to
around 20,000 copies a week that demonstrates the death of pop music in the UK.
NME has followed newspapers in producing a tablet version
for the digital age, but shockingly this has only yielded 1,200
subscribers. True, NMEs website does well enough as a
source of pop news, but young peoples unwillingness to
invest in magazines featuring music features and reviews
(which are not initially on the website) indicates how pop music no longer inspires much
devotion
in
young
people
today.
As with the decline of paid-for album sales, many will see the decline of the music press as a
consequence of the digital age. Who wants to fork out cash for a music magazine, many will
argue, when reviews, news and interviews are available for free? Indeed, the American online
magazine Pitchfork has succeeded as the go-to place for hipsters, while one UK-based website,
The Quietus, has provided a popular platform for thinkpieces on popular culture that the music
weeklies once did so well. But neither of these really have the same impact as the UK press once
did.
There is an argument that both Melody Maker and NME lost
readers when they ditched the irreverent writing and long
features in the late Nineties. Well, they certainly became lessreadable publications. There was a patronising assumption that young people didnt want
cultural-studies essays or thinkpieces on politics, and so the Top 100 list-mania took their place.
But poor editorial changes arent the full story. A revamped Select magazine in 2000, for
instance, provided longer features and more probing journalism. But it soon went the same
way
as
the
Smash
Hits-styled
Melody
Maker
and
folded
in
2001.
Clearly, then, the music press has not been picking up younger generations of readers in the
way it used to for quite some time. Instead, it is the music mags aimed at fortysomethings, such
as Mojo and Uncut that continue to sell relatively well compared to NME. That passion for both
indulging a fondness for past greats and keeping up with new releases still appeals to those
who lived through post-punk. Which raises the question: why doesnt music grab pops
traditional heartland, ambitious-minded youth, in the same way as before?
In the Seventies through to the mid-Nineties, the music weeklies were required reading for
youngsters they sold over a million copies per week combined. To be included in lunchtime
conversations at further-education colleges or in the school sixth form, it was pretty much
essential that you had digested the music press by mid-morning. The music press became a
much-needed lifeline for those stuck in small provincial towns with dreams of escape. But
equally, the music press wasnt simply metropolitan taste makers telling us how it is. In order
to be credible with their readership, the music weeklies reported on emerging scenes and gigs
in small-town Britain. You felt that your local venues and record shops were alive with
possibilities. And more often than not, they were.
Thus reading NME or Melody Maker was akin to being part of an in-the-know club, always the
hallmark of a great publication, and something which music websites today cant replicate.

Each of the weeklies had their own regional stringers reporting on

new bands and, armed with the right talent and look, such bands
could find themselves catapulted to national recognition pretty
quickly. So the music weeklies appeal depended, not on marketing
and flash redesigns, but on young musicians and budding writers
keen to make a name for themselves. The lifeblood of the music press
wasnt talented Oxbridge graduates alone; it was also thousands of
bored teenagers using pop music as a source of immediate
excitement
and
long-term
escape
from
Nowheresville.
In the past decade or so, though, that organic, creative drive of
young people has ceased to exist in any meaningful way. Instead,
staying within the bosom of the family post-university, and well into
adulthood, has increasingly become the norm. The social climate
needed for youth cultures to begin and flourish is simply not there.
To make it locally and then nationally, to be an ace face with the best band or club night or
fanzine, required a thick skin and some nerve to deal with the cynics, gossips and brickbats. In
todays climate of automatic entitlement and self-esteem protection, though, young people are
perhaps less likely to stick their necks out and make their way in the world. Yes, bands, clubs
and fanzines were a youthful endeavour, and hardly the equivalent of leading a trade-union
revolt, but they still provided qualities that allowed young people to prosper through to
adulthood. Indeed, lots of people involved in pop music graduated to bigger and bolder
ventures, whether in business, the arts, politics or journalism. Many of todays star broadsheet
writers
and
broadcasters
started
off
writing
for
NME.
This is why the decline of NME, as emblematic of the death of pop music and pop scenes, is
concerning. If young people arent taking those first important steps to become someone or to
be different, to create a public persona and leave mum and dad behind, then therapeutic mores
will have won and young people will lose out in the long run.
Such developments havent gone unnoticed. In an interview a
few years back, indie legend Edwyn Collins and his
wife/manager Grace were despairing at their then 20-yearold son, Will, and his mates. They need a lot of propping up!,
said Grace. Dyou know what Edwyn had done by the age of
25? Started a label. Made a load of seminal singles. Recorded
four albums. I tell Will, You aint got plenty of time! Look at
you all sitting there with your PlayStations. I can see it now:
well be 71, 72, youll be 40 sitting there with your great big
pot bellies playing Fifa 30!