Music Journalism: Where Are We Now?

In the first week of March 2014, longstanding Camden-based publication The Fly announced its closure. Its once-teeming website has been reduced to a single page, which simply serves as a bulletin for the following message: “After nearly 15 years of pioneering music journalism, the owners of The Fly are officially closing the magazine as a result of current market conditions surrounding publishing. We offer gratitude and wish well all the staff and contributors that have allowed us to deliver the UK’s longest serving monthly free sheet.”

Managerial establishment Mama & Company moved to end the magazine’s tenure following a significant fall in circulation last year, which was largely prompted by the increasing dearth of HMV branches across the United Kingdom. HMV provided The Fly with its prime distribution network, with free copies of the magazine made available on shelves in-store. Yet when the retail company entered administration in 2013, over 60 UK branches were forced to close, and circulation of The Fly consequently plummeted. By June, circulation figures were almost half those measured four months earlier, and now production of the magazine has ceased altogether.

It’s a crying shame, especially since The Fly’s online presence has also come to a close, with archival issues and features no longer digitally accessible. Editor JJ Dunning retains ownership of the brand, and has expressed optimism that something can still be made of the publication, though it’s yet to be seen whether the result will be a resurrection of the magazine or the creation of something new altogether. Certainly, it’s hopeful to imagine Dunning achieving success in his future endeavours, but for now, the closure of The Fly is an uneasy reminder that printed music journalism is gradually becoming outmoded.

The closure of The Fly is an uneasy reminder that printed music journalism is gradually becoming outmoded.

Of course, the major source for comparison in this regard is digital journalism, which has flourished in the past decade. Although monthly magazines such as Q, Mojo, and Uncut can accommodate a range of content, the length of such features must be limited for spatial reasons, and analytical sections are often dominated by capsule reviews. In contrast, web-based alternatives such as Pitchfork and Drowned in Sound are able to offer more extensive, multimedia-friendly articles, and additionally, the consumption of such information is free to anybody with an Internet connection. Furthermore, it has become increasingly unrealistic to expect print media to keep pace with all ongoing developments in the music industry. The attempts of monthly (and even weekly) magazines to highlight trends and breaking news pale in comparison to the updates constantly provided online. Why shell out several pounds per week on NME or Kerrang! when their websites offer contemporary updates for free? It’s this very issue which has resulted in the falling readership of numerous publications, and this negative trajectory shows little sign of changing.

Nevertheless, there is still room for innovation regarding music journalism in print. In November 2013, Pitchfork announced the launch of The Pitchfork Review; a quarterly publication which will accompany the brand’s popular online presence. A subscription to The Pitchfork Review has an annual rate of $49.99, or $19.96 for each individual issue. (Apparently, for any Brits who’d also like to partake, there is an increased price of $132.99 for an annual subscription, which equates to roughly £80. That’s almost triple the original price, supposedly just for quarterly postage and packaging. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather spend that on actual music.)

I’m all for Pitchfork having its own print edition, and it should be seen as encouraging that a modern company is willing to put its faith in print. However, there’s something about Pitchfork’s incentive which reveals a certain perception of print as an outmoded medium. The following is an extract from the website’s introduction of its new format: “This beautifully designed, limited-run publication on high quality paper stock is meant to be kept on your shelf and read and enjoyed over the long term.” As an advertisement, it’s perfectly fair: everyone wants a first-rate product for his/her money. But this still cuts to the heart of the notion that print media is now little more than a luxury, rather than a means of providing cutting-edge journalism. In this regard, Pitchfork’s florid description of its new publication can’t help but seem merely fetishistic.

How long can we keep defending it and its alleged charms when the benefits of consuming journalism digitally are so blatant?

This isn’t necessarily a complaint: sustaining traditional forms does deserve commendation. The vinyl revival of recent years is an encouraging example: a form once viewed as defunct has attained a new lease of life, and now serves as a reminder of the value and craftsmanship inherent to a good record. I’m certainly glad that vinyl pressings have been saved from inconsequence, and likewise, print media should be treasured where possible: owning a hard copy of a publication is gratifying in itself.

But that’s all it seems to amount to: an indulgence, instead of a means of authentic discovery or innovation. The reason I occasionally buy vinyl records and printed magazines is not because I find them essential, but because I revel in the luxury of ownership. They’re nice to have, but hardly necessary in terms of staying in the loop regarding the music world. As with the vinyl format, printed musical journalism still exists and is treasured by many aficionados, but its original appeal of providing cutting-edge insight has been considerably blunted. As much as we love print media and hope for its continuation, how long can we keep defending it and its alleged charms when the benefits of consuming journalism digitally are so blatant?

To return to the discontinuation of The Fly, then, it is certainly very sad news, but ultimately, no great surprise. With print media already losing out to digital consumption, free publications are at even further risk. The question is: how many brands will be able to sustain their print incarnations over the next decade? Naturally, anything could happen, but for the time being, it’s not much of a stretch to foresee other magazines besides The Fly losing traction; their worth at risk of being drowned out by cheaper, more efficient formats.