I think I’ve made my disdain for Rolling Stone fairly clear. It is the pabulum of music journalism and criticism, which is especially unfortunate because the publication has also spent the majority of its forty-plus year existence setting the canon of rock’n’roll. I type this as the equivalent of a “lapsed Catholic.” I was a devoted reader of the magazine through high school and college, giving up on it a few years after that. Through a strange convergence of events, I recently secured a fresh year’s subscription, and I can report that it’s flimsier and less inspiring than ever. (To get a sense of how dire things are for the magazine industry these days, consider that I signed up for Rolling Stone and two other Wenner Media publications for one dollar per subscription.) The interviews have become hopelessly bland, the news section dominated by cutesy pictures (including, it seems, regular inclusion of bikini-clad pop star beach-goers) and the bulk of the music reviews are so brief that they seem like little more than the barely fleshed out notes of the writers’ after a cursory initial listening.

It was better once. I know full well that this has long been a litany invoked by music fans who, at some point, succumbed to magazine’s allure. This is in part nostalgia, and probably in part because one William Martin Joel was correct when he groused in song that the magazine was “aimed at your average teen” (of course, he was mainly complaining because they panned his records, but let’s put that aside for now). But there’s also some truth to it. Read something they published from the seventies or even eighties (some real journalism, not any of that Hunter S. Thompson garbage) and compare it to a recent article. The difference in depth, intelligence and insight will be apparent.

And I feel like I can pinpoint the moment it changed, when everyone associated with the magazine effectively gave up. It was right after this magazine was released with this cover:

This cover came out almost concurrently with the release of Belly’s sophomore album, King. I seem to recall this was notable for being one of the lowest selling issues of the magazine in years. While it was hardly the last time that Rolling Stone would devote the cover to a newer band, it did feel like the last time they would try to be ahead of the curve, touting a band because they were good instead of because they were popular. In contrast, Kings of Leon recently made the cover, about a year after the release of their most recent album. In the interim, they had time for a mortifying girl-on-girl fantasy come-on cover featuring two stars of a show that ranks around 160 in the Nielsen ratings. This may be what it takes to survive in an era when music magazines are dying, routinely bested by the timeliness and creativity of online options., but it’s still a little sad.

For what’s it worth, Rolling Stone was right to put Belly on the cover. It was a damn good band, with a damn good album.

Belly, “Judas My Heart”

(Disclaimer: Both of Belly’s studio albums seem to be out of print. Amazon has their excellent debut album available electronically, and there is a “best of” compilation that appears to include a French version of “Judas My Heart,” if I’m correctly decipher what “Judas Mon Coeur (French Version)” is all about. Then again, I got straight D’s in high school French, so I may not be the best choice to serve as interpreter. Regardless, this song is posted with the belief that it is entirely unavailable through any means that would contribute to the respective bank accounts of the members of the band. If I’m incorrect, or if anyone with due authority to make such a request wants me to remove the song for any reason, I was gladly comply.)