Book Review: Spin Magazine

Oh, Spin, Spin, Spin. Once upon a time you were a pretty great mag. But today, I'm not even linking to your official website, because just doing so would damage my credibility as a music writer.

Seriously. You suck.

I give a lot of shit to Spin... oh, you noticed? Fancy that. Well, I want to take a few minutes to explain why.

Ten years or so ago, folks, Spin was the only place you could read about the major indie-rock exponents in America. Yo La Tengo, Pavement, Guided By Voices, even Daniel Johnston were to be found in rich detail and fascinating profile in Bob Guccione Jr.'s publication. This was during the time when Rolling Stone had soaked itself in the grunge movement, of course--before it sank into the muck and became the Britney and Xtina Gazette. But if you wanted to read about something more cutting-edge, angular, weird, or yes, elitist, you passed up Rolling Stone , even back then and settled on Spin.

Then Guccione the Younger went and sold off the magazine to Vibe, the Rolling Stone of Urban Culture. (SIDEBAR: Yes, I hate the fact that "Urban" is the official euphemism for "Black" too, but you do know exactly what I'm talking about when I say it, don't you?) Vibe is owned by Quincy Jones. Its publication style is a lot like his production style: glossy, teflon-coated, made slick and palatable to the masses.

And it affected Spin to the great detriment of everything. Today they try very hard to pretend to maintain that sharp edge, but they only pull it off if you buy into the following conceits:

  • The only American music worth listening to is being made in Lower Manhattan or Brooklyn, which is conveniently where most of Spin's writers reside.
  • The only music anywhere worth listening to is that GOD DAMNED retro-postpunk shit.
  • People who have long, Ashton-Kutcher hair and leather jackets are the fashion template of tomorrow, and not merely a throwback to Jared Leto on My So Called Life.
  • Dave Eggers, who wrote A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and edits McSweeney's, is thereby qualified to be a rock writer.
  • Karen O. from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs is a sex symbol (!!).

Continued on the next page Page 1 — Page 2

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Article Author: Michael J. West

Michael J. West is a writer, editor, and dilettante jazz critic in Washington, D.C. In addition to BlogCritics, he writes for JazzTimes, Washington City Paper, and AllAboutJazz.com. He occasionally writes at Pop Musicology, too. He's very cute. …

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  • Mojo Mojo

Article comments

  • 1 - Rodney Welch

    Jul 13, 2005 at 9:50 am

    Quincy Jones isn't dead, dude.

  • 2 - Michael J. West

    Jul 13, 2005 at 9:54 am

    Oh. I could swear just recently...anyway, "oops." Excuse me while I edit that out. :-)

  • 3 - Jones Violet

    Jul 13, 2005 at 1:13 pm

    I remember when Spin was good. It was always such a treat to get one of those magazine in the mail. I think I still have some old copies in the garage somewhere. Thanks for the link to Mojo, never heard of that before but will check it out.

  • 4 - Eric Olsen

    Jul 13, 2005 at 1:40 pm

    I interviewed Bob Jr. for my first book back in the early '90s, and briefly wrote a little for them, but then they changed editors (again) and I lost touch. Bob was cool but I never quite figured out that mid-Atlantic accent

  • 5 - Mark Saleski

    Jul 13, 2005 at 1:44 pm

    i used to have a subscription, and kept it way too long.

    every once in a while they would surprise me with something cool...the last time being an article about Neu!

    that was a bunch of years ago though.

  • 6 - Sheila Jones

    Jul 30, 2006 at 10:33 pm

    "once upon a time," "because just doing so"
    Michael J. West can't write. Give it up buger flipper.

  • 7 - John Beeler

    Jun 15, 2008 at 4:02 pm

    Bob was cool but I never quite figured out that mid-Atlantic accent.

    It's not mid-Atlantic; it's English and it's real. His mother was English and after his parents split she raised him there.

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