May 12, 2008
Take our ink-stained hands and join us at the OldStand, where Jon McMillan goes to remind everyone what an honest-to-goodness music magazine is supposed to look like.
A while back we excavated SPIN's 8th Anniversary Dando-fest; now, through the magic of the Oldstand, we'll slide back a year, to 1992, as SPIN attempts to dial up the seven greatest bands of all time. Well, no spoilers here. And really, nothing even remotely controversial. In '92 Spin was still not quite as "alternative" as it would later become (or pretend to become), and their top-seven is proof positive. In no particular order:
Sex Pistols
The Beatles
The Rolling Stones
Led Zeppelin
Public Enemy
The Ramones
Jimi Hendrix
Yawn. Rolling Stone wants its canon back! Although, in fairness to SPIN, the world would not become thoroughly listified for another fifteen years (thanks for nothing, blogosphere!), so at the time this must have provoked heated arguments among the slacker set. Some of the goofy, throwaway, "seven-based" humor pieces are much more entertaining (#5 on the list of "Seven Ways To Kill A Rock Star" is "Introduce him to Jeff Lynne." Huh?). There's also a surprisingly prescient "Guide to College Music," including featurettes on up-and-comers The Breeders, Manic Street Preachers, Swervedriver, Uncle Tupelo, and Moose. Well, four-out-of-five ain't bad.
But here's my favorite thing about this issue: buried underneath all of the self-congratulatory essays and chest-puffing argument fodder, tucked into the review section under the heading "Blue Light Special," Jim Greer's heartfelt defense of Queen:
What Queen did for me as a kid growing up in the suburbs in the 1970s was teach me the value of antisocial behavior. Meaning that none of my friends liked the band, but I stuck with 'em anyway (the band, not my friends)...In retrospect, it's easy to see what [they] didn't like. Queen was a bit off, wasn't it? Not nearly as one-dimensional or straightforwardly rock 'n' roll as our other heroes, Aerosmith, Boston, Sabbath, and Skynyrd, Queen introduced an element of uneasiness into the already-confusing world of adolescence, and was therefore taboo. Which to me was cool; I thought Queen was Art the way I thought The Lord of the Rings was Art. My love for the band was a way of placing myself above my peers, and of feeling misunderstood - essential for any budding misfit.
Also: NKOTB vs. Michael Jackson, TS Eliot vs. Lou Reed, and Gameboy vs. productivity.
CONTINUE READING OLDSTAND: SPIN, APRIL 1992...
Posted at 5:18 PM in
latest by Llewelyn Moss
April 28, 2008
Take our ink-stained hands and join us at the OldStand, where Jon McMillan goes to remind everyone what an honest-to-goodness music magazine is supposed to look like.
The late, lamented, Hoon-led Blind Melon shows up on the cover of RS 669, rising like a gaggle of nude, hippie nymphs from the muck of LA's post-Gn'R hair-metal scene. Or something. Kim Neely's take on the band's rise to prominence is thorough enough -- but also frustratingly bland for a band that had a reputation for being a bit nutso. Good-natured bitching about living in the shadow of the Bee Girl's success gives way to a term-paperish accounting of the band's origins (short version: they all moved to LA and formed a band). Later, they threaten to vomit on a label exec, steal some artwork from a restaurant bathroom, and smash up a hotel room. But unfortunately all of the good stuff is buried after the jump, on page 82. Why? I have no idea. If Cameron Crowe had been dead in 1993, he would have been rolling over in his grave.
The rest of this workman-like issue is peppered with small joys: an item about Shaq rapping, an ad for one of those then-ubiquitous 1-800-Collect services (does anybody born after the year 1988 even know what calling collect even means?), a PM Dawn reference. Pearl Jam's Vs. pulls a (much deserved, though my judgment might be clouded by personal nostalgia) 4.5 stars from reviewer Jim Bessman ("A lot of singers know how to convey emotion in a song, but few are capable of the kind of range or drama Vedder routinely imparts"), thus cementing their status as one of those bands who always gets a good review from Rolling Stone. There's also a brave and well-crafted piece of gutshot journalism, written by a guy who was molested by a priest while growing up in Massachusetts. Doubly awful when you consider that it took nearly 10 more years before the Catholic church was called to any sort of institutional account.
Also: Glenn Frey gets a TV show, Elton John gets physical, and In Utero gets dissed...by Wal Mart.
CONTINUE READING OLDSTAND: ROLLING STONE, NOVEMBER 11, 1993...
Posted at 5:26 PM in
Tags: Blind Melon | Elton John | Glenn Frey | Nirvana | Pearl Jam | PM Dawn
latest by Johnny
April 14, 2008
Take our ink-stained hands and join us at the OldStand, where Jon McMillan goes to remind everyone what an honest-to-goodness music magazine is supposed to look like.
A paint-by-numbers Iggy Pop feature/interview gets the November 1986 cover love (first interview in four years = same interview as four years ago), but it's a 10-page slice of post-gonzo journalism that steals the show. To celebrate the 100-year anniversary of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, original punks Legs "Sawyer" McNeil and Richard "Huckleberry" Hell are dispatched to the Mississippi river in twin inflatable rafts, in search of -- well, it's not exactly clear what they're searching for. Freedom? America? More cigarettes?
Today the river offers no relief or anticipation. It is getting more and more civilized. Abandoned houses with their first floors submerged in water pop up out of the river, casting a gloomy pall over the place. Normally, on this stretch of river, the water would be alive with motorboats and water-skiers, families or inborn mutant children mucking up the place, but even though the sun is shining and the trees gently rustling in the breeze, the assault of the outraged river on the tacky resort homes creates an eerie mood. It's as if nature took its revenge at being spoiled for man's pleasure. Still, as if to defy the mighty river, the rapid-fire delivery of a television game show host breaks the overwhelming quiet.
Bet you weren't expecting that -- I know I wasn't. As with many of these "searching for America on the Mississippi" pieces, this adventure ends in a mixture of sweetness and defeat, as the boys fall some 225 miles short of their mark (Memphis, TN, as if that mattered). No surprise there. Still, it's a welcome respite from the usual music-mag fare, and an excellent read. One more quote for ya, but first, the cover:
CONTINUE READING OLDSTAND: SPIN, NOVEMBER 1986...
Posted at 3:11 PM in
Tags: Iggy Pop
latest by david christopher miedzianik
March 31, 2008
Take our ink-stained hands and join us at the OldStand, where Jon McMillan goes to remind everyone what an honest-to-goodness music magazine is supposed to look like.
Not sure why it took Rolling Stone until March 10th, 1988 to release the results of the 1987 Music Poll when basically all they had to do was take the same batch of index cards they use to choose their covers (Springsteen, R.E.M., U2, David Bowie, any Beatle, something from 1968, male white actor etc.), throw them on the floor, and let David Fricke ("the critic"), and an intern ("the reader") pick them up in a different order. Which is to say: no surprises here. U2 picks up most of the coveted non-awards, and are rewarded for their trouble with a super-pretentious four-page spread of their heads juxtaposed with U2 lyrics. Oh, and a profile of The Edge (known, at this point in his career, as "the guy who isn't Bono").
Here's a vote: This is the most half-assed "poll" ever. Many of the categories have multiple winners, and the "artists" section is just a list of stuff, with no explanation or qualifications whatsoever (for example, Michael Stipe's "list" includes the following quote: "I didn't listen to anything in a year, but I know these came out and are the best. Of what they are. Next year will be Downey Mildew and Hetchy Hetchy. You watch." Um, thanks big fella. Why don't you sit the next few plays out?). And how can Belinda Carlisle, of all people, be the only person (critic, fan, artist) to include "Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me"? This whole thing just makes me mad. At least the guys from Crowded House have the good sense to name check "Strangeways Here We Come."
Elsewhere there's a huge article about the Rock 'N' Roll HOF inductions (a six-page list of names, basically, but some of the pictures are hilarious), a PJ O'Rourke piece about post-Marcos Manila, and Kurt Loder's four-star review of Robert Plant's Now And Zen ("Even Jimmy Page, who is a guest guitarist on two of the tracks, flourishes in this hot new context"). Fred Goodman checks in with an insightful report on how the record industry is (was) dealing with the death of vinyl (if you guessed "by charging hubristic prices for CDs," give yourself a twist of the arm).
Also: Spuds Mackenzie, Richard Marx, and the most wonderfully eclectic dance chart of all time.
CONTINUE READING OLDSTAND: ROLLING STONE, MARCH 10, 1988...
Posted at 2:12 PM in
Tags: Bob Dylan | Bruce Springsteen | The Rolling Stones | U2
latest by grace6697
March 20, 2008
Take our ink-stained hands and join us at the OldStand, where Jon McMillan goes to remind everyone what an honest-to-goodness music magazine is supposed to look like.
Well, the headline pretty much says it all.
But here's the thing about Q, or at least the June 1994 issue: Despite the shock & awe cover, it's a weirdly wonky affair. The writing, while never quite approaching the depth of late-'70s Rolling Stone, or the bite of early-'90s SPIN, has a thick formality that's completely at odds with the joyful prose vamping of British cousins NME and Melody Maker. It reads -- gasp -- like a corporate magazine, not a pre-incarnation of a blog.
Examples? They shall follow, as will the exceptions. An oddly shrill headline about how "The Yanks are Coming Again!" gives way to twin rote profiles about the Counting Crows ("You see, I don't enjoy life very much." -- Adam Duritz) and Garth Brooks ("He makes proper eye contact with you!" -- Anonymous Idiot Fan). There's an extended interview of John Lydon, and profiles of Cheap Trick, Traffic and Mariah Carey. Plus a very cool feature called Q&A, where people write in with obscure music questions ("Who is the young boy on the cover of Therapy?'s CD single, 'Trigger Inside'?"), and a completely overwhelming 100+ reviews of everything from new CDs to classical music to television shows to old Monty Python cassettes (yes, there's an "Audio Cassettes" section). The reviews form a 60-page endurance test, and the net effect is of a magazine that's far more serious (and less sensational) on the inside than it likes to pretend on the outside. Except, maybe, for the picture of Phil Collins in tiny, tiny white shorts.
But you wanted to know about Kurt.
Nothing new or insightful to report, beyond that shameful headline. Phil Sutcliffe, in the lead essay, clutches at pat psychological causality while managing to inspire neither empathy nor outrage ("Of course, it wasn't inevitable that he would one day commit suicide, but nor was it beyond the scope of what was publicly known about his life." Thanks for the insight, asshole), and the 30-day countdown feature is just stupid ("Thursday, April 14: Cobain is cremated. On the death certificate, his occupation is listed as 'Poet/Musician'"). I'm no Cobain fetishist, but it's a sad bit of exploitation by any standard, and we all (Kurt especially) deserved better.
More highlights: Parklife gets four stars, the Spin Doctors chill in the studio, and our CD traveling case issues are solved -- finally!
CONTINUE READING OLDSTAND: Q, JUNE 1994...
Posted at 4:30 PM in
Tags: Blur | Kurt Cobain | Nirvana | Phil Collins | Spin Doctors
latest by Miguel
March 3, 2008
Take our ink-stained hands and join us at the OldStand, where Jon McMillan goes to remind everyone what an honest-to-goodness music magazine is supposed to look like.
It's spring, 1987, and Melody Maker checks in with The Cure on the eve of Kiss Me (x3). The band is at the height of its powers; nobody is moping, everybody is happy (you would be too if you had just written "Just Like Heaven"). So, how best to capture that wacky Tim Pope vibe? By drawing some whiskers on Robert Smith's face!
CONTINUE READING OLDSTAND: MELODY MAKER, APRIL 11, 1987...
Posted at 4:49 PM in
Tags: George Michael | Paul Simon | The Cure | Wham!
latest by scott
February 18, 2008
Take our ink-stained hands and join us at the OldStand, where Jon McMillan goes to remind everyone what an honest-to-goodness music magazine is supposed to look like.
Rolling Stone's second issue of 1989 was a mixed bag. We start with a lame cover story on Mel Gibson (as vapid as the star himself, although somewhat less alcoholic and definitely less anti-semitic), but it's balanced out by a profile of And Justice...-era Metallica (Jason Newsted: "Metallica is going to be one of the bands you look back on in the year 2008, that people will still listen to the way I still listen to Zeppelin and Sabbath albums"). Was he right, or did everything post-Sandman sully the glow? Either way, it's a good look back at the band as fan-driven phenomenon, when Lars was more into viral tape-trading than copyright beefs.
Have you figured out R.E.M.'s Biggest Album Yet? Gold star if you guessed Green, which gets a grudging 3.5 stars (wonderful album, but The Pursuit of Happiness pulled three -- was this the beginning of star inflation at the Stone?). Also, I know the art of dirty politics predates the late 80s, but for those of you who want to understand just how America arrived at its current level of partisan vitriol, there's a helpful interview with the original Hatchet (and axe) man Lee Atwater. Sure he helped Karl Rove cheat his way to the College Republican presidency in the 1970s, slandered Dukakis in the 1980s, and gave George W his first office in the White House in the 1990s, but it's totally cool because he plays the guitar! Douchebag is not a word I throw around lightly, but Atwater was the originator and the emancipator, and never has the term been more appropriately applied.
But, as with most publications 19 years and older, the best things in this issue are the advertisements, specifically a full-pager featuring a mail-in offer for Charlemagne's sword. Why would Rolling Stone readers want to purchase a replica sword? Maybe because it's 38-and-a-half inches from tip to pommel. (That's what she said!! -- Michael Scott)
After the jump: Rod Stewart eats Mick Jagger's shrimp, Daydream Nation beats Let it Bee (no, it's not a typo) by half a star, and this whole David Byrne thing starts getting ridiculous.
CONTINUE READING OLDSTAND: ROLLING STONE, JANUARY 12, 1989...
Posted at 6:16 PM in
Tags: Bono | David Byrne | Dennis Miller | Mel Gibson | Metallica | Rod Stewart
latest by fanu drbq
February 4, 2008
Take our ink-stained hands and join us at the OldStand, where Jon McMillan goes to remind everyone what an honest-to-goodness music magazine is supposed to look like.
This week the wayback machine (or, as some people call it, eBay) drops us off in Londontown for a lengthy recap of the year in music, 1981. The cover promises an "88 Page Double Xmas Xtra," which, after the 25 pages of Spandau Ballet references, still leaves plenty of room for the images of the year, a court-mandated feature on David Byrne (he was interviewed in every music-related publication that was published between 1976 and 1988), and enough charts to paper Margaret Thatcher's outhouse.
Notable features include "Songs Drawn + Quartered," in which artists are asked to put their own visual spin on the hits of the day (perhaps not the best idea for a newsprint broadsheet with questionable judgment on when to use spot-color, but very creative nonetheless), a sneaky-snarky month-by-month recap of '81 (March was apparently the month in which Adam Ant's "magpie combination of warpaint, feathers, leather, brocade and a big black Burundi beat put some pride back into pop."), and the massive, year-end "Xmas Interrogation," a 45-question brainbuster that reads, a quarter-century later, like Trivial Pursuit questions from another planet. You can take a crack at it after the jump.
Also: Mark Fairnington's gives his anime-esque take on "Don't You Want Me Baby?", white people get funky, and Meatloaf turns out to be just as big of a dick as you would imagine.
CONTINUE READING OLDSTAND: NME, DECEMBER 19, 1981...
Posted at 4:21 PM in
Tags: Adam Ant | Human League | Meat Loaf | Paul McCartney | Stevie Wonder
latest by Tony Almeda
