UPDATE: The folks at Electric Literature sent me an extra copy of the first issue, and I'll send it to a random commenter who leaves an answer this week to the following question: What is the most "dangerous" piece of fiction you've read and why? Respond by midnight CDT Aug. 2.

The debut of a literary journal -- even in these depressed economic times -- isn't stop-the-presses news. In fact, the new Electric Literature would be unremarkable save for the quality of the stories in its debut, were it not for its mode of delivery.

The journal is available in four formats: traditional print paperback, Kindle, eBook and iPhone compatible. "We have adopted an environmentally conscious approach to publishing," the editors write on the journal's web site: "Ultimately, the content of a book is information, and the methods of distributing information have changed. Electronic publishing is the greenest option: it kills no trees, requires very little energy, never goes out of print, and can reach anyone on the planet."

The paper versions are green as well; the publisher uses print-on-demand technology, which means you won't see this on newsstands and then remaindered years later.

But lest you think the emphasis is on the "electric" rather than the "literature," it opens with some heavy hitters, including Jim Shepard and Michael Cunningham. Shepard's story would have fit nicely in his last collection, Like You'd Understand, Anyway. It's historical fiction, of a sort, telling of a team of researchers in the Swiss Alps at the dawn of World War II. The other writers -- T Cooper, Lydia Millet and Diana Wagman -- were new to me, but their compelling stories made them worthy contributors to this first issue. My only complaint was that Cunningham's contribution is a novel excerpt. I hate when the New Yorker wastes its one fiction slot with an excerpt, and it's no better here. If I want to read the novel, I'll read the novel. Reading a snippet satisfies no one.

That aside, the real interesting thing will be to see if the magazine develops an aesthetic or tone. It promises "reading that's bad for you," describing it thusly: "Lady Chatterley's Lover, Ulysses, Madam Bovary... these books were banned because they could subvert society. How? Again, by revealing life's possibilities, expanding consciousness, and exploding social norms. We want to re-introduce the idea that reading can be dangerous."

The jury is still out on that, as there is nothing here that I haven't seen elsewhere. The stories are good -- edgy in spots -- but it's difficult to foresee anything coming within Electric Literature's pages that would shock in the way the above-mentioned works did in their time. They will get quality work thanks to the promise of $1,000 per story, an almost unheard-of sum for a literary journal.

Still, for what it is -- five stories over 100 very basically laid-out pages -- it's a very high-quality publication with a lot of promise. I can't imagine reading this much prose on an iPhone, but for those seeking more substance than their various apps can provide, this certainly fits the bill. Me, I'll spare my eyesight and stick with the paper copy.

The journal is embracing the possibilities of the web and electronic media. It released a trailer this week for Shepard's story, "Your Fate Hurtles Down at You." It was animated by Jonathan Ashley and scored by musician Nick DeWitt. Watch it below:

Labels: magazines

Once I got over the confusion over a book magazine that publishes only 10 times a year setting aside two of those to cover music and visual arts, I learned to love The Believer's annual music issue. Actually, it wasn't hard. Much as the magazine's usual content offers some of the best, most interesting coverage of books available, The Believer's music issue is one of the sharpest looks at the state of music that you'll find.

The new issue is no exception. In fact, whether it's a faulty memory on my part or an uncanny ability to target my tastes on their part, I can't remember a more satisfying music issue.

The first thing to do when a Believer music issue arrives is to check out the included CD. This one, compiled by Daniel Handler (better known as Lemony Snicket), is a gem. The disc offers some incredible music that, unlike most included with magazines, features songs unavailable elsewhere because they were recorded specifically for this project. The Believer/Handler asked several songwriters to submit acoustic versions of new songs, and 14 did.

One note: If there is a target audience for this disc, I'm it. Which led me to look up Handler on Wikipedia and found what I was looking for: He's three months younger than I am, which more importantly means that he graduated from college at the same time. No wonder this disc seems so good: These are artists that, by and large, were making a name for themselves when we were in high school, college and slightly beyond.

While I know my tastes have expanded since that time, it's also safe to say that the artists I hold closest to my heart are those I discovered in the decade-long window between entering high school and settling fully into the working world. So, acts like Sam Phillips, Robert Scott (The Bats), Mike Scott (The Waterboys), Lloyd Cole, Dave Wakeling (The English Beat), Mark Robinson (Unrest) et al are right in that wheelhouse.

The Scott song, "A Wild Holy Band," is magnificent. Despite it's 10-minute run time, it held my interest from start to finish, a story song worthy of any next-Dylan tag Scott might have been saddled with at one time. The Dave Wakeling song makes me think it's high time for an English Beat revival, while tracks from Stephen Duffy (The Lilac Time), Lisa Germano and Stuart Moxham (Young Marble Giants) make me think I ought to re-evaluate my ambivalence about their work.

Moving beyond the disc and into the issue's pages, I'm again struck by the breadth of what is covered here. In the past, the magazine has been accused of pandering too much to the hipster demographic, but any nods to that corner are more than balanced this time out by pieces about the post-breakup Beatles, Lawrence Welk, jazz guitarist Pat Martino and a look at the costs associated with staging an opera. Sure, there is an interview with indie darling Phil Elverum of Microphones/Mt. Eerie and a Q&A with Thom Yorke, but if anything these are pieces that are likely to put the hipsters at ease with the rest of the content, not the other way around.

Arthur Phillips, who wrote the fantastic new novel The Song is You (which I'll boldly say is the best novel ever written with music at its center), has an interesting (particularly given the success of his doing so in his novel) piece about the constant debate about whether one can accurately describe music with words in Dancing About Architecture.

Joe Hagan, whose article about reclusive singer-songwriter Bill Fox in the 2007 music issue was one of the best things The Believer has published, looks at singer-songwriter Benji Hughes, another performer who doesn't seem to have found the best way to present his music -- or the right partners to help him do so when he does.

All in all it's a very solid issue of one of the best magazines out there, and one any music fan would do well to drop $10 to acquire.

Past Believer music issues:

2008
2007
2006
2005
2004

Labels: magazines, music

Ten years ago today, the June 21 & 28, 1999 issue of the New Yorker hit the mailbox (yes, we get it late out here in flyover country). It was the fiction issue, though this one came with a twist: It identified 20 writers who were dubbed "The Future of American Fiction."

The list: Sherman Alexie, Donald Antrim, Ethan Canin, Michael Chabon, Edwidge Danticat, Junot Diaz, Tony Earley, Nathan Englander, Jeffrey Eugenidies, Jonathan Franzen, Allegra Goodman, A.M. Homes, Matthew Klam, Jhumpa Lahiri, Chang-Rae Lee, Rick Moody, Antonya Nelson, George Saunders, William T. Vollmann and David Foster Wallace.

With 10 years of hindsight, how did they do? Pretty well. There is one bona fied star in Chabon, several winners of prestigious prizes who also have bestsellers to their names (Eugenidies, Diaz and Lahiri) and plenty of critically acclaimed authors like Moody and Saunders. The late Wallace seems to deserve his own place as someone who, at one time or another, fit all three of those categories.

What is most striking, however, are the names that at one time seemed to guarantee excitement but which today sent me to Wikipedia to determine when their last publication occurred. Could Klam really not have published anything since 2000's Sam the Cat? Whatever happened to Englander? Or Antrim?

My own biases/myopia/limited tastes play a part to be sure. I know Goodman is a big name, but have never read a word beyond the story included here. I'm completely unfamiliar with the work of Nelson or Danticat, but know each has legions of fans.

As with all such lists, the most interesting thing is to look at who made it and who didn't. In the opening Talk of the Town essay in the issue, "Reading Ahead," then Fiction Editor Bill Buford writes that the magazine "set out to answer the question, 'Who are the 20 best young fiction writers in America today?' Does best mean 'most promising' or 'most accomplished'? We settled on a definition that includes both senses, and tried to accommodate the obvious names and the not-so-obvious."

They did limit themselves by considering only American authors age 40 and under. Even at the outset there was hedging, or at least a healthy caveat that admits such lists are dubious exercises. Such a list in 1899, Buford writes, would not have included Willa Cather or Edith Warton or Theodore Dreiser or Jack London or... you get the point.

Anyone could make a compelling argument for or against nearly all of the picks on the list, though one omission did strike me as odd. Tellingly, there is an ad for Stewart O'Nan's Prayers for the Dying on the bio page that lists the 20 who made the cut. O'Nan's output since would certainly merit strong consideration, as would that of a couple dozen other authors who were not selected.

A close look at the list shows that the magazine wasn't exactly taking chances with its choices. By 1999, Chabon had already published Wonder Boys and was at work on The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay; Moody had penned three novels, incluing The Ice Storm and Purple America; and Vollmann had published nine works of fiction. Then again, Diaz had published just one story collection, and Lahiri's The Interpreter of Maladies, which went on to win the Pulitzer Prize, had just been published.

There was precedent, too. Granta published its own list of the Best Young American Novelists in 1996, with six overlapping with the New Yorker list (Alexie, Canin, Danticat, Earley, Eugenidies and Franzen). Some obvious omissions from the New Yorker list, including O'Nan and Lorrie Moore, are present here.

Hindsight offers some comedy. Buford writes about the novel being "Oprahed," something selectee Franzen would learn about firsthand more than a year later when his book, The Corrections was selected for the TV star's vaunted book club. He expressed misgivings, she rescinded the invitation, and the book club's relationship with modern literary fiction (and, it seems, the populace's view of it) was never the same.

It was clearly a different time. The Talk of the Town piece that follows Buford's looks at Karl Rove, already being called "Bush's Brain," and the machinations he had under way that seemed to point to a presidential bid by the then-Texas governor. The Internet was nowhere near the force it is now, (there are actual ads without URLs at the bottom) and publishers still paid large advances and sent their authors on long book tours.

A good story is a good story, regardless of the time or contest, and many here are are top notch, making the issue a very compelling read. The only vexing thing is that five authors' stories are only teased, and appeared in each of the next five issues of the magazine. Actually, that's not the only vexing thing. As is too often the case with the New Yorker, at least five of these so-called short stories are actually novel excepts (such as Chabon's "The Hofzinser Club") though not billed as such.

In the end, the issue provides an interesting lens through which to view the turn of the century literary fiction landscape, capturing, fairly effectively, the consensus critical picks for success. Not all of those selected would be included on a list that sought to gather the best writers of the past decade, but all 20 moved forward from this point with significant work. We can be disappointed that Franzen has yet to follow up his 2001 novel, or that Earley has managed just one post-Jim the Boy novel this decade, but prolific folks like Alexie and Chabon somewhat make up for it.

Summing up his Talk of the Town piece, Buford seems to foresee the divergent futures of the chosen ones. "What is the future of American fiction We can't know. But the Polaroid of this generation, snapped as the century turns, offers a satisfying picture of a highly accomplished group of writers robustly taking on the stories of their Americanness."

Below is a list of the included stories along with their eventual home under the author's name. Those listed as "uncollected" may have appeared in anthologies, but have not been issued in a book by the author to the best of my knowledge.

"I Can Speak!TM" George Saunders, In Persuasion Nation
"Asset," David Foster Wallace, uncollected
"The Toughest Indian in the World" by Sherman Alexie, The Toughest Indian in the World
"Hawaiian Night," Rick Moody, Demonology
"Raft in Water, Floating," A.M. Homes, Things You Should Know
"The Local Production of Cinderella," Allegra Goodman, uncollected
"The Saviors," William T. Vollmann, part of the novel Europe Central
"Party of One," Antonya Nelson, Nothing Right
"The Volunteers," Chang-Rae Lee, uncollected
"The Hofzinser Club," Michael Chabon, excerpt from The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay
"Vins Fins," Ethan Canin, uncollected
"An Actor Prepares," Donald Antrim, uncollected
"The Wide Sea," Tony Early, excerpt from Jim the Boy
"The Oracular Vulva," Jeffrey Eugenidies, excerpt from Middlesex
"OtraVida, OtraVez," Junot Diaz, uncollected
"The Failure," Jonathan Franzen, excerpt from The Corrections
"The Book of the Dead," Edwidge Danticat, The Dew Breaker
"The Third and Final Continent," Jhumpa Lahiri, The Interpreter of Maladies
"Peep Show," Nathan Englander, uncollected
"Issues I Dealt With in Therapy," Matthew Klam, Sam the Cat

Labels: books, criticism, magazines

So, despite raising more than $166,000 from fans and friends last month Paste magazine is downsizing. Literally. The magazine is about the size of the old TV Guide, though shorter, with only 46 pages. Publisher Nick Purdy writes that the full-size magazine has shifted to a once-every-two-months schedule, with smaller, single-topic issues to "tide you over" in between. "We've designed these mini-magazines to include a surprising amount of good stuff -- because after all, it''s the content that matters, not the size of the paper."

Of course, it is the size of the paper. Though Purdy is right in saying that the issue packs a surprising amount of content into its 46 mini pages, it's a fraction of what it offers in even the most ad-strapped, thin full-size issues of yore. It's a pamphlet, essentially. The magazine started out with a publication schedule not much different that it has now, so I'm unsure about the need for these mini-issues. It can't be advertising; there are only about 13 pages of ads here, which for a 46-page issue is pretty paltry ad support.

As it is, the magazine seems to be pushing subscribers away from print. A huge ad (well, as huge as you can get with 5 1/2"x8" page) for the magazine's digital subscription touts two options: Digital Paste for 99 cents a month, or Digital VIP Paste, for $2.99 monthly. The first gets you the digital edition and the right to download the music sampler, the other offers two samplers, other MP3s, access to the digital archive, a T-shirt and other goodies. Oh, and if you want to get the magazine as, you know, a magazine? "Physical copies of the magazine and sampler, of course, are available as options. More information online." "Hey, caveman, we don't want to print and mail this thing, all right? Just enter a credit card number and save a tree!"

This isn't unique. Good magazine (a non-music title) published a similar-sized "recession issue" this spring to announce it's own reduction in frequency, while Blender magazine decided to go online-only around that same time (while Blurt, which moved online after the demise of Harp, actually moved back into print for at least one issue).

I've never been a huge fan of Paste -- it's a little too NPR, Dad-rock friendly for me -- and this move does nothing to change my mind. If I want to read about music online, there are plenty of places to do so. If I want to read good, long-form music criticism surrounded by interesting photos printed on paper, the number of outlets is dwindling.

Labels: magazines, music

This week's New Yorker cover is causing a stir -- justifiably so -- because of the way it was created. Artist Jorge Columbo has been creating streetscapes of New York with an iPhone app, Brushes. The results are pleasingly impressionistic and surprisingly detailed at the same time.

I first heard of Columbo back in April when his work was featured at the great art site 20x200, where prints of four of his iPhone sketches are for sale (if you're interested, hurry: they're going fast). I passed on the offerings there, but would pick up others in the series that are displayed on his web site should they ever go on sale.

In the meantime, you can watch this fascinating video that shows the many steps needed to create the New Yorker cover piece:



Even better news: The New Yorker site reports that it will now feature a new Columbo drawing each week.

Labels: art, magazines

The rapid transition in the world of print publications hit home today as I picked up a copy of the new Blurt magazine on the same day I learned that another music magazine, Blender, will bite the dust. This could get confusing, so pay attention.

Blurt magazine debuted on newsstands recently, the first title I'm aware of that started online and moved to print. That comes, however, after Harp magazine, which begat Blurt, folded last year. It was purchased by JazzTimes parent Guthrie Inc. in 2003, and in announcing its closure last year, Guthrie CEO Glenn Sabin said, "Unfortunately, Harp's critical acclaim never translated into sustaining commercial success. Harp's lifecycle was ill timed with the precipitous decline of the music software industry, coupled with the consolidation of the consumer magazine newsstand business and rising paper and postage costs."

Those behind the mag, including publisher Scott Crawford, quickly regrouped and launched Blurt, an online magazine/web site. It is essentially Harp online, with a normal daily-updated web presence and a quarterly PDF magazine. That product was essentially a magazine in all aspects but the presence of paper. Instead, users would click through pages in a dedicated web-based viewer.

“Crawford told FOLIO: magazine earlier this year that the company had "gotten to the point of wanting a physical product to help brand the site—we want it to be the ‘soul’ of the web site in print.” At that time, the print product was planned as a quarterly. The premiere issue, however, says it will come out 10 times a year, or roughly as often as Harp.

Aesthetically and editorially, it is Harp in all but name only. I'm glad to have it back in whatever form, for I missed out on nearly all of its online coverage. For whatever reason, if I want online music coverage, a quick-hit site like Pitchfork works better for me. If I want long form journalism and criticism, I'd rather have a print product.

That means, however, that Blender's decision to cease publication and move exclusively to the web means I might actually pay more attention to it. I was never impressed with the magazine, stuffed as it was fully pix of scantily clad "singers" and 50-word CD reviews, but that's just the kind of thing that works online.

The magazine's April issue, on newsstands now, will be its last. Instead, it will limit coverage to its web site. It's as if each publication figured out its strength -- according to my tastes, anyway -- and decided to switch places to play to them.

Labels: magazines, music

I don't remember when I first picked up a copy of Chunklet. It was definitely several years ago, probably around the time of the first "Overrated" issue. I was amazed; here was a zine that didn't fawn over favorite acts, but rather slagged off those it hated (and event slung a few arrows at ones it liked). There was precedent for this, of course, in early mags like Answer Me! and Motorbooty. But no one had done this so long, or so professionally.

Henry O. Owings (H20, for short) is the man behind Chunklet. What started as a small zine has 15 years later become a tidy little multi-media empire. He puts out the magazine (no. 20 just out), has published two books, released CDs and vinyl and promotes shows. It's all built, it seems on promoting things Owings likes. That means CDs from bands like Harvey Milk, comedy albums from Patton Oswalt and books about things wrong with the state of rock 'n' roll.

Owings latest endeavor is his second book, The Rock Bible (from the great Quirk Books imprint). Promising "Unholy Scriptures for Fans & Bands," it gathers wisdom from scads of Chunklet writers, offering an indispensable guide for the budding rock star. Follow these tenants and you might just avoid pissing off Owings and his crew. Then again, what's the fun in that?

TIRBD: 15 years later, Chunklet has become quite the media empire, with books, music releases, concert promotion and 20 issues of the magazine. How does that jibe with the way you envisioned things progressing when you started?

HO: I had no idea what I wanted to do when I started. Seriously. I got out of school in '91, the middle of the last (great) recession and couldn't find a job. I just thought, "Shit, if I'm unemployed, I might as well be happy." I moved to Athens and just got interested in things that interested me. That's it. So all of it just comes from that point. The book spawned from the magazine. Graphic design spawns from the mag. Ditto concert promotion, records, etc., etc. There was certainly no long-term marketing plan that I drew up, but I'm genuinely excited about all the projects I've been able to get done in the last 15 years. No doubt about it.

Do all of these efforts pay the rent, or do you do other things to pay the bills, thus allowing time for things like this?

I do graphic design, album production, concert promotion and writing for a living. The mag has never been something I derive money from. It pays for itself, and that's it. I think it's great that it's a self-sustaining enterprise. In 2008, that's saying something.

Do you see the magazine as the main thrust of things, or has that become just one of the many things you do?

Seriously, I have no idea what my main thrust is. I just do what makes me happy.

Has your outlook as a magazine publisher and as a music fan changed over the past 15 years?

I think I'm more involved with and excited by music now than I was in 1993.

Is your excitement driven by your involvement (you know more therefore it's easier to be into it), or is there more to be excited about today?

Not to sound fatalistic, but I'd rather do everything that interests and excites me instead of leaving it to somebody else. Life is for the living and people that sit on the sidelines aren't rewarded. My goal was to get involved, and I am. Period.

It has been said that tough times yield the best art, because artists have something visceral against which to react. Are we in for some of the best art of our lifetimes?

It's easy to say that good art will come out of America's loins in the next few years, but that's not for me to say. All I know is that the last creative explosion was when Reagan and Bush left office in the late 80s and early 90's. Before that was after Nixon. So yeah, I think we can anticipate greatness spawning from some suburban garage in the not too distant future.

You've said that unlike people who launch anonymous tirades online, you have always been upfront, standing behind even your most caustic criticism. Has that had an impact on the relationships you have with artists? Do your musician friends live in fear of the day you'll turn your pen on them?

Nah, I'm not a chickenshit. Regrettably, I've lost a few friends, but none directly from something in the magazine. I've never held back though. I remember when people like Death Cab or The Shins started getting "big" and I pretty much told them I'd lay into them and they were totally excited about it. I don't know, getting knocked on in Chunklet is a badge of honor to many. To those who don't think it is, I just say "go get fucked."

The alternative (for lack of a better term) comedy artists you've championed for years are coming into the mainstream these days. What kind of world is it when H2O is a tastemaker?

Beats me. I still approach everything like I did when I was 15. But tastemaking? Give me a break. I just like that what I like. If others dig it, great. Otherwise, I'll be happy knowing I'm right and that's all.

Labels: books, magazines, Monday Interview, music

It's funny how, if you wait long enough, people who have been seen as cult acts and a marginal mainstream presence begin to take on the patina of classicism. To wit, Dexter Romweber, the singer and guitarist behind Flat Duo Jets, recently signed a deal with Bloodshot Records. There are those who loved FDJ -- I was ambivalent at best -- but the band was largely ignored. Want proof? What was the band's last album? If you said 1998's Lucky Eye, please show your FDJ fan club card. Regardless, Romweber is back (where's drummer Crow?) as a solo artist. First up, the near-requisite comeback vehicle, a duets album, this one featuring Cat power, Neko Case and Exene Cervenka. He also is joined by his sister, Sara, whose more-impressive pedigree includes stints with Let's Active and Snatches of Pink.

Bloodshot also will issue a new project from author Jonathan Lethem and songwriter Walter Salas-Humara is scheduled for September. You Are All My People from I'm Not Jim. According to Bloodshot, the two met at a Silos show. Lethem wanted to give Salas-Humara some of his books as a thank you for two decades of great music. A friendship ensued, as did a songwriting project that led to an album's worth of music. Salas-Humara said Lethem wrote very quickly:

"We would discuss the framework for a tune and he would be writing while we were talking. Then minutes later he would have several verses with internal rhymes, a chorus and a bridge. I was completely on the spot -- I now had to come up with melodies just as fast. We ended up with 11 songs at the end of day two." The production team The Elegant Too --Philip Hernandez and Chris Maxwell -- then rebuilt Salas-Humara's tracks, sometimes replacing everything but his vocal.

Hard Case Crime will celebrate the release of its 50th book with a party July 8 in New York.That milestone publication -- Fifty-to-One by Hard Case editor Charles Ardai (who wrote two previous HCC books under the name Richard Aleas) -- actually won't come until November, but it's worth celebrating. The idea behind the book is a good one: it's split into 50 chapters, each named after one of the 50 books in the series. "The novel tells the story of how Hard Case Crime was founded in 1958 by a scoundrel who (among other things) thought it might be fun to publish a gangster's memoir -- only to find himself in hot water with both the Mob and the police after learning that the memoir was not quite the true story he'd thought..." Ardai writes.

Several of the people behind the now-defunct music magazine Harp have moved operations online with a new product, Blurt. From the looks of things, it hews very closely to the editorial and design style of Harp, which is certainly not a bad thing. The site

It’s an interesting project: The actual digital magazine is exactly that – a magazine-like publication where the pages are flipped with a click of a button. It feels very much like an issue of Harp online. The content is similar is well, with features on Joan As Policewoman, My Morning Jacket, Ray Davies, My Brightest Diamond, and Alejandro Escovedo, among many others. It also includes CD reviews, as well as those of books, DVDs and merchandise.

Publisher Scott Crawford lauds its “green-minded, digital only format.” A cynic, of course, would remind Crawford that Harp wasn’t worried about the non-greenness of paper until the bottom fell out financially. That said, it’s a nice presentation despite the fact that I’ll miss having a paper copy to cart around.

Blurt also will include a daily-updated web site that offers additional features and interactive content.

Labels: books, crime fiction, magazines, music

Yesterday's reports have been confirmed: Harp magazine has ceased publication. The magazine -- one of the true shining lights in the music section on store racks in recent years -- is the second non-mainstream title to fold in the past month, following No Depression's announcement in February. According to a statement on the magazine's web site, money, as always, is to blame. The magazine was founded in 2001 and purchased by JazzTimes parent Guthrie Inc. in 2003.

Guthrie CEO Glenn Sabin said, "Unfortunately, Harp's critical acclaim never translated into sustaining commercial success. Harp's lifecycle was ill timed with the precipitous decline of the music software industry, coupled with the consolidation of the consumer magazine newsstand business and rising paper and postage costs."Not sure what the "music software industry" is or why its decline should affect a consumer mag like Harp, but it was clearly the writing on the wall.

Founder Scott Crawford is right when he states the magazine established "a much-needed niche within the crowded marketplace." At least at one time. As things progressed, titles like Magnet and Paste clearly cut into Harp's niche, and vice versa. Harp was a nice middle ground between the indie-centric former and the dad-rockin' latter, but that happy medium wasn't lucrative enough to guarantee survival.

I was on board Harp's train right away, picking up the first issue because of cover star Alejandro Escovedo, contributing a couple of pieces along the way (this one on Mark Eitzel and another on Jim Roll) and reading each subsequent issue until the last, which I just cracked this weekend.

Labels: magazines

As has been widely reported elsewhere, No Depression magazine has announced that it will cease publication with its 75th issue in May.

I'm ambivalent about the news. When ND launched, I was an active member of the message board on AOL (!) that spawned it, bought every issue and/or subscribed for the first few years and contributed a couple of pieces in the early going. It was several years ago, however, that I missed picking up an issue after my subscription had lapsed and realized, when I saw on the newsstand one day that a subsequent issue was out, that I didn't really miss it all that much. Apart from picking up the rare issue when the cover star promised a long interview with a favorite artist, I have largely ignored it for quite some time.

The reasons are twofold. The first is that I simply grew weary of the genre. I rarely go back and listen to much of what is termed alt-country, and when I do, it is to hear the early work of bands that have long since shaken off its shackles. The second is that at times the magazine simply wasn't very good. Much of the writing was hamfisted, the work of people with more passion than chops. That shouldn't condemn a magazine outright --plenty of fanzines and 'zine-like magazines (Magnet, et al) suffer a similar variation in quality -- but coupled with the fact that the music the magazine had proscribed itself to cover was a bit of a dead end, it signaled the death knell for ND.

The magazine's editors seemed to realize this fairly early on, branching out beyond the world of alt-country with occasional features. Thing is, I could read about these artists -- and the best alt-country acts -- in other, often better magazines. Though ND improved over its run, particularly in terms of production and design -- there was too much competition.

I appreciate the efforts of Grant Alden and Peter Blackstock, and hope their plan to move the operation fully onto an expanded web site will work. There obviously have been enough fans of this music and this magazine to sustain it for 13 years, and a decrease in ad revenue could be countered by cutting the cost of printing and distribution that come with a print product. Still, perhaps it's simply time for this to end. I thought hearing about this would lead me to pull out some old alt-country discs, but it hasn't yet.

Labels: magazines, music

I had no idea that Bill Fox was such an enigma. I first came across Fox when I read a review of his solo debut disc, Shelter From the Smoke, in some magazine. I've no recollection of precisely how it was described, but I knew it's mix of smart pop hooks, garage-fidelity vibe and folk instrumentation would appeal to me. This was 1998, the time before you could just hop on the Internet and order whatever you wanted in a few clicks. The local store didn't stock the disc, so I kept a lookout for it. Instead, I came across Transit Byzantium, his second solo disc, also issued in 1998. I bought it and liked it a great deal. I later tracked down Shelter From the Smoke, and liked it as well. I kept my eyes open for a follow-up, but it never came.

A few years later, I learned that Scat Records (home to my beloved Guided by Voices first widely distributed disc, Vampire on Titus) was going to reissue the recorded output of Fox's 1980s band, the Mice. I pulled my reviewer strings and got a promo copy of the disc, For Almost Ever Scooter (which collects the For Almost Ever EP and Scooter LP), which I've played a lot since it's release in 2004. At that time, Scat's press materials reported that "Bill stopped writing and performing music a few years ago, but has plans to start back up again relatively soon."

Then I picked up the recent music issue of The Believer, which features an interesting article about Fox. The author fell in love with his music, but couldn't find anything out about the musician. He contacted former bandmates (including Fox's brother, Tommy, who drummed for the Mice) and other acquaintances, but the closest he got to Fox was to learn that he was working in Cleveland as a telemarketer and had completely given up music. There are other fairly fascinating details about Fox's life in the piece, but because Fox made it clear through intermediaries that he didn't want his life on display on the Internet for all to see, I'll let you track down the magazine if you care to know (The Believer isn't making the story available on its web site for the same reason).

It's a shame that Fox has soured on music, because he's awfully good at it. On his two solo discs, he offers a total of 36 songs, and nearly all of them are keepers. He evolved from the snotty pop-leaning punk of the Mice to offer a sophisticated sound that is clearly influenced by Bob Dylan (the inside of the CD insert of Transit Byzantium is dominated by a photo of a ticket stub to a 1998 Dylan show) but which features stronger, more immediate pop hooks than can be found in Dylan's work. Most if not all of this was recorded on a four track, and nearly every sound is played by Fox. Much like Guided by Voices (whose Robert Pollard is reported in the Believer article to be a fan), Fox figured out how to use the four track as almost another instrument, creating dense-sounding songs that stay on the right side of the line between cozy and claustrophobic.

Not all of the tunes are obvious pop songs, though my favorites on the disc are. "I'll Give It Away" and "Lay You Down" are among the best, each with a great rhythm and solid hooks. He leans a bit more toward the folk end of his sound on some of the songs on this disc as compared with Shelter From the Smoke, but this never devolves into corny campfire singalongs. This is folk in spirit more than sound, the songs so well crafted as to feel like public domain wonders rather than 10-year-old pop tunes recorded in the basement on weekends by a 9-to-5er.

Perhaps Fox really is planning to start playing and performing again, as Scat reported three years ago. If so, that's great news. If not, at least we have these 36 songs (and the 16 on the Mice reissue) to enjoy.

MP3: I'll Give It Away
MP3: Lay You Down

Labels: magazines, music, OOTS

Crawdaddy!, the first rock magazine in the U.S., will relaunch yet again on May 16 with an online version funded by Wolfgang's Vault. The magazine was started by then-college student Paul Williams, who put out the first issue in February 1966, predating both Rolling Stone and Creem.

Williams left in 1968, the mag didn't publish for a period during 1969 and 1970, and saw the return of Williams in 1993. It closed up shop in 2003, and has been silent until now.

The online mag's site has cover shots from Williams' initial 16 issues, a review of the Bruce Springsteen tribute concert from last month and other bits of information, historical and otherwise, about Crawdaddy!

"Crawdaddy! promises, in earnest, to maintain the values set forth by Paul in the original publication. We also want to acknowledge that the times have changed. We'll encourage writing and reporting that delves inward and back in time as a mirror for rock as it exists in the present and how it affects our socio-culture." It's a noble idea, and one that has fueled many come-and-gone efforts over the past several years.

At least Williams is involved, as "advisory editor," and he'll contribute to the first issue as well. Having read a couple of his books about Bob Dylan, compendiums, for the most part, of his writing in the magazine about the singer, I can attest to the fact that he is a talented chronicler of rock music, a possible breath of fresh air in a world where most reviewers spend more time talking about themselves than the music.

Labels: magazines, music