Introduction by Justin Chadwick, Founder & Editor-in-Chief:
I’d like to think that I do my best to maintain relatively spartan surroundings when it comes to my home and work life. The mere sight of even the most minimal amount of clutter typically doesn’t just trigger the OCD that lurks within—it sends it off the charts. In my office, for example, the surface of my desk is adorned by my laptop, my monitor and nothing else. I’m not saying that I’m proud of my psychosis, just that I’m aware of it and I’ve come to accept it as my reality, for better or worse.
Of course, there are a few striking exceptions when it comes to my aversion to the accumulation and proliferation of stuff, much to my wife’s Marie Kondo driven dismay. Books, records and music magazines continue to expose me as the closet, in-denial packrat that I am. Books and records can be forgiven, I suppose, as these items have both sentimental value and staying power, and I can justify keeping hundreds—if not thousands, by now—in my possession by vowing that my young daughters will inherit all of them one day. Yes, I’ve used this excuse before. It’s for the kids.
But stacks upon stacks of music magazines? Boxes upon boxes of old, near-mint and mint condition issues of MOJO, Q, Wax Poetics, No Depression and a handful of other rags? What use could I possibly have for these?
Well, not much, to be honest. Unlike books and records, it’s not as if I go back to read these magazines again, years and years later. They literally just sit there, untouched. So in the absence of any real utility, what value do they have in my life?
Rewind about 25 years to my high school days in the mid 1990s. I was a stubborn, rigidly addicted hip-hop and R&B head who swore for years that I would never venture beyond my beloved genres. The Source wasn’t just the hip-hop bible, it was my bible. Ah, the self-righteousness and naiveté of youth.
Periodically though, I would flip through my more open-minded friends’ Rolling Stone and SPIN magazines, taking mental notes of the wide assortment of music out there, ripe for discovery.
Last of a dying breed: My go-to newsstand, Magazine Café in Midtown Manhattan
And even though I wouldn’t come to fully embrace many of the artists and records touted within those pages for a few more years when college beckoned, what made an instant impression on my still-fledgling mind was the fact that there were people in this world who were lucky enough to devote their days, their labor, their livelihood to writing about music.
Seemed like a pretty cushy gig, if you asked me, notwithstanding my ignorance concerning the struggles of writers whose paycheck size was dictated by word counts, not by hours logged. Without hesitation, I admired and trusted writers like Touré, Rob Sheffield, Michael A. Gonzales, David Fricke, and Kevin Powell—just to name a small sample—to enlighten me to the ways of new music and activate my curiosity about music of the past.
Despite the fact that print publishing has been in decline for years now with the ascendance of quicker-fix digital platforms, thankfully there’s still a market for traditional music pubs. And I still make my monthly trips to the few newsstands (barely) left standing in New York City to pick up my monthly dose of reading material and hope to do so until I’m old and gray. Sure, I read (and now write and publish) plenty of music content online nowadays. But nothing can compete with the feeling of tucking your favorite magazines under your arm, as you anticipate flipping through the pages to absorb the latest and greatest in the world of music.
It was my undying love for these music magazines that largely prompted me to launch Albumism a few years ago, in the hopes that my team of scribes and I would unite in our shared passion for the written word and music to stimulate and sustain our readers’ love of both. While it’s still early days for the site, so far so good in accomplishing our mission.
So without further ado, today we’re thrilled to celebrate the 20 print music magazines—some still in circulation, others now defunct—that inspired the creation of Albumism.
MOJO
Published From 1993 to Present
Selected by Justin Chadwick
In my humble opinion, the best damn magazine—music or otherwise—I’ve ever had the pleasure of reading, and I’ve religiously devoured it each and every month for the past 25 years. Eloquent and expertly researched writing devoid of pretension and heavy on passion, MOJO is the blueprint for any publication that values integrity, aspires to sustain reader loyalty and covets longevity.
In MOJO I trust. And I always will.
Rolling Stone
Published From 1967 to Present
Selected by Christopher A. Daniel
Rock criticism would never be the same once Jann Wenner and Ralph Gleason gave the world a new voice in print on November 9, 1967. Rolling Stone magazine, their convergence of music and political journalism, became one of the gold standards for American journalism: publishing memorable cover stories, iconic photography, thought-provoking interviews and commentaries spanning pop culture and current events.
Great wordsmiths like Cameron Crowe, Lester Bangs, Greil Marcus, Ben Fong-Torres, Alan Light, Anthony DeCurtis and the late gonzo pioneer Hunter S. Thompson were just as iconic as the rock gods they covered. To this day, Rolling Stone is still one of the Holy Grails for pop culture.
The Source
Published From 1988 to Present
Selected by Jesse Ducker
I remember the first issue of The Source I ever bought. It was the May/June 1990 edition and it had Chuck D on the cover, in promotional support for Public Enemy’s Fear of a Black Planet. I bought it at Berkeley’s Leopold Records toward the end of my freshman year high school. Nearly 30 years later, I can say with zero guilt that I spent more time reading that issue than I did actually studying for final exams. More than any other publication, The Source made me want to be a journalist.
Started by a Harvard student David Mays and his trio of friends during the late 1980s and based in New York City, The Source was the first magazine to feature serious hip-hop journalism. Prior to its founding, hip-hop magazines were like rap versions of Seventeen, complete with pin-ups and fluff interviews. The Source had in-depth interviews and features. It had a special section to spotlight local scenes throughout the country, spotlighting up-and-coming artists. Its “Unsigned Hype” section helped kickstart many a career, from Biggie Smalls to Common to Artifacts. The “Rhyme of the Month” column spotlighted some of the illest verses of the time. And its record review section was one of the most potent, controversial, and iconic in hip-hop magazine history. The fight to achieve the elusive 5-mic rating was real. During its heyday, the magazine was correctly regarded as the “Hip-Hop Bible.”
Sadly, the magazine’s legitimacy took a serious hit in late 1994, with the entire editorial staff quitting due to shenanigans involving, of all groups, the Almighty RSO. It’s chugged along throughout the years, as hip-hop’s popularity keeps it afloat. Its legacy during those early years remains unimpeachable, and it set the gold standard for what hip-hop journalism could and should be.
No Depression
Published From 1995 to Present
Selected by Justin Chadwick
When I moved to New York City shortly after graduating from UCLA, the first job I landed was in the radio industry and I traveled to Nashville frequently for country radio and music events. Initially, at least, I felt like a fish out of water, as I had never listened to mainstream country music and I suddenly found myself rubbing shoulders and making small talk with the biggest artists and most influential industry executives that called Music City U.S.A. home.
While I quickly came to embrace the community there and was always impressed with how professional, polite and personable everyone seemed to be, I admittedly never fully got on board with the music. Nevertheless, Nashville’s musical tentacles run deep, well beyond the mainstream strains of country, so I was in the perfect place to explore and discover artists and musical movements that, at the time, could best be classified as Americana or alt-country.
The self-proclaimed (and wholly warranted) “Journal of Roots Music” whose title was inspired by the Carter Family’s 1936 song “No Depression in Heaven” and Uncle Tupelo’s acclaimed 1990 debut LP No Depression, No Depression magazine was a revelation, helping me to discover some of the finest and most criminally underappreciated singer-songwriters out there, artists like Tift Merritt, Allison Moorer, Drive-By Truckers, and too many others to count.
Musician
Published From 1976 to 1999
Selected by Steven Ovadia
People forget that in the days before the Internet, it could be hard to find music news and information. So I read pretty much anything that was on the stands at the local stationery store, gleaning what I could before the person behind the counter would shout over the racks that the store wasn't a library.
It was on the newsstand that I found Musician magazine, which fascinated me. It was written for people in the music industry, with a bent toward the famous. So an issue might delve into songwriting, via an artist interview, and then shift to an article about the economics of touring. Reading it made me feel like a real music insider, even though I spent way more time on city buses than tour buses.
Essentially, Musician was a how-to guide for working artists, with the knowledge courtesy of established musicians. As a result of this orientation, Musician could be square and serious in a completely un-self-aware way, like a textbook. But at the same time it featured interesting writers like Charles M. Young, who had the gift of being able to wink with his words. One of my all-time favorite articles, and the one which encompasses the beauty of the magazine, is a Cameron Crowe essay, written after the release of Singles (1992), where he talks about the pain and joy of selecting music for movies. It was practical, actionable advice sprinkled with copious Paul Westerberg anecdotes. I'm not sure another publication could, would, or will ever again, pull off an article like that.
Mixmag
Published From 1983 to Present
Selected by Justin Chadwick
Never an avid clubgoer, I did dabble in the electronic music scene toward the tail end of my college days in L.A. and my first handful of years in my adopted home of New York City. And while people tap into club culture for various hedonistic purposes—accessible drugs and sex, to name the most obvious—I was always drawn primarily to the escapist power of the music to unite people on the dancefloor.
As I began to broaden my knowledge of the seemingly endless genres, subgenres and mutations of dance and electronic music, Mixmag proved a vital resource, even with its UK and Ibiza focus. I lived vicariously through the pages of Mixmag to experience just a sliver of what club culture overseas must be like, never having really experienced the thrill firsthand for myself in any meaningful or sustained way.
Too old now to even entertain the notion of hitting the clubs for nostalgia’s sake, I still pick up Mixmag regularly to keep my finger on the pulse of the ever-evolving electronic music landscape and I’m always rewarded in full.
Vibe
Published From 1993 to 2014 (Print) | Currently published digitally
Selected by Daryl McIntosh
Even as late as the early ‘90s, the jury was still out on whether hip-hop would receive full mainstream acceptance. As much as the more “street solidified” artists hate to admit it, the record-breaking sales and global appeal of crossover artist like MC Hammer along with the controversial groups like N.W.A helped broaden rap’s audience. So much that super-producer turned media mogul Quincy Jones was compelled to create a magazine to document and celebrate the young culture as the renaissance of a “New Black Aesthetic.”
With Mr. Jones as lead visionary, Time Inc. (the original parent company) assembled a writing staff led by Jonathan Van Meter as senior-editor to head a writing staff of mostly twenty-somethings to elevate the visual approach and general narrative of the budding culture.
The young staff who would go on to become writing royalty in the eyes of the succeeding generation included Scott Poulson-Bryant (senior editor/writer, 1992-96): Kevin Powell (staff writer, 1993-96), and Mimi Valdes (editorial assistant, 1993-94; assistant editor, 1994-95; style editor, editor-in-chief, 2004-06) amongst many others, who would capture era defining images and in-depth interviews with generational icons like Tupac Shakur, TLC, and Mary J. Blige, to make Vibe the official lighthouse for urban-youth culture of the ‘90s and ‘00s.
Q
Published From 1986 to 2020
Selected by Libby Cudmore
I wish I had been reading Q in its early ‘90s heyday, having discovered it far too late in the back-issue bin at my local record store. But it was unlike anything I’d ever seen before, with reviews and interviews on seemingly every single oversized page, pockets of gossip about who was in the studio and who was on stage, plus a pop quiz and a Q&A at the back of every issue.
The interviews were substantial and lovingly written, hearty features rather than the rote question-and-answer style. The photographs were frame-worthy, and it seemed as though every issue I picked up had been written with me in mind. Donald Fagen and Morrissey in the same magazine! An interview with Norman Cook right after I’d discovered the Housemartins! I had finally found my people.
They also compiled extensive lists, including Greatest Songs, Greatest Singers and the annual Q Awards. The magazine is still around, published alongside Mojo, but now they also have a podcast to complement the print edition.
DownBeat
Published From 1934 to Present
Selected by Justin Chadwick
Embarking upon the steep learning curve that is jazz music requires time, patience and beyond all else, an open mind and eager ears. In circulation for 85 years now, making it the longest-running publication in this list, DownBeat has been instrumental in facilitating discovery and igniting the love of jazz among those willing to take and sustain the (ultimately rewarding) plunge. And while the magazine continues to pay homage to the luminary figures of the rich, deep history of jazz, it also shines a bright light on the contemporary artists that are defining the genre’s future.
Rap Pages
Published From 1991 to 2000 (Print) | Currently published digitally
Selected by Jesse Ducker
It’s not really fair to say that Rap Pages was the West Coast counterpoint to the East Coast-based The Source, but the magazine certainly had a California sensibility and was The Source’s #1 competition during the early to mid 1990s. Rap Pages was founded in 1989 and published out of Los Angeles and indeed the first rapper to grace its cover was Ice Cube. But as The Source was growing in popularity, Rap Pages was taking chances, both out front and between the “sheets.”
While The Source caught flak for putting R&B upstarts TLC and comedian Martin Lawrence front and center on their cover, Rap Pages was showcasing artists like The Lady of Rage, Kool G Rap, The Heavyweights/Project Blowed crew, 8-Ball & MJG, and Kwest tha Madd Lad on its covers. It also featured a monthly column from Bobbito “The Barber” Garcia, where he’d give his thoughts on growing hip-hop culture and tipped off readers to up-and-coming “underground” artists. Rather than just a “rhyme of the month,” they provided deep dives into entire unique songs. And the articles and interviews were often more in-depth, especially as the mid-’90s took hold.
Due to an editorial change in the late ’90s, Rap Pages shifted in tone, and became more glossy to match with the tenor of the music being represented in the mainstream. It still did some interesting things visually; the iconic “Biggie Smalls with a crown on his head” photo originated as a Rap Pages cover. But overall, the magic was gone. The magazine changed ownership a few times, and has morphed into a website, Rap Pages TV. But during the ’90s, it was great to have a legit alternative voice that dug a little deeper.
Blues & Soul
Published From 1967 to Present
Selected by Patrick Corcoran
Imagine a time, if you can, before the all-powerful internet entered our lives. Growing up in a semi-rural part of the Midlands in the UK, information about the music I loved was difficult, if not impossible, to come by. There was no music at the touch of a finger available immediately, no internet to discover the whos, whats, whys and wherefores and no way to join the dots. The radio was hopeless, TV was even worse and I had no money to buy new music—all I had was the local library to rent music.
Then one day in a newsagent, stood a glimmering, shining beacon of hope; hope in the form of Blues & Soul magazine. How could this be? A magazine that seemed as though I had named it for my own purposes? And yet, there it was staring me in the face. Thus began my obsession with finding new copies whenever I entered a newsagent and my love for the music contained within blossomed in the sunshine of this new discovery.
Of course it wasn’t new, it was just new to me. Founded in 1966 by John Abbey and first published a year later in October 1967, it followed the explosion of blues music as an influence on the rock groups of the era that invaded the US and the soul music that flowed back to these shores.
Like most publications, it has had its challenges in the internet era, but it persists in these difficult times courtesy of the boundless passion and manic energy of editor Lee Tyler as a bi-monthly publication with the accompanying online presence. It is a national treasure and deserves its place in my heart—I’m sure countless others share my adoration.
Record Collector
Published From 1980 to Present
Selected by Justin Chadwick
Not designed for the casual record buyer and currently celebrating 40 years in print, Record Collector caters to the more dedicated, diehard enthusiasts who are constantly on the prowl for rare, hard-to-find gems to add to their ever-growing libraries. Stoking the best elements of music geekdom and avoiding the trappings of snobbery that plague the newer generation of online music sites, the UK mag has remained the most reliable resource for avid collectors who enjoy the research-driven process of filling the gaps in their collections, not just the end result.
“There was no great editorial vision, beyond getting out a monthly magazine about record collecting, and trying to stay sane and alive while doing it,” Peter Doggett, who served as editor-in-chief from 1982 to 1999, remembers. “But if there was a philosophy, it was that I wanted it to be a magazine where it didn’t matter what kind of music you liked—what counted was that you were passionate about it.”
Wax Poetics
Published From 2001 to 2018 (Print) | Currently published digitally
Selected by Christopher A. Daniel
Wax Poetics is the crate digger’s Bible, without question. Its thick, 7x10-inch bind couldn’t have had a more perfect title: resembling a vinyl album sleeve aesthetic to magnificently highlight all manifestations of black music—from James Brown and Sly Stone to Prince and J Dilla—with precision and attention to detail.
Publishing its first issue in December 2001, the quarterly magazine-turned record label-coffee table books-Japanese vertical founded by Andre Torres never missed an opportunity to refresh the memories of music geeks (such as myself), mentioning rare grooves by the pound, and publishing passionate, careful long form storytelling that connects our past with hip-hop’s bright future.
NME
Published From 1952 to 2018 (Print) | Currently published digitally
Selected by Justin Chadwick
Knowing all too well how challenging it is to sustain a steady cadence of content that will engage readers on a regular basis, I can’t even fathom how the staff at the New Musical Express delivered their weekly paper for so many years, while maintaining their editorial integrity through it all. But they did it, and they did it well.
Though the NME would confront stiff competition in the UK market from other pubs like Melody Maker, Mojo, Q and the like, it remained the go-to resource for musical discovery among the discerning British listenership, helping to define and amplify pivotal movements including the rise of British rock in the ‘60s, punk rock’s emergence in the ‘70s, indie’s glory days of the ‘80s, the Britpop phenomenon of the ‘90s and rock’s resurgence in the early years of the 21st century.
For my money, NME in print was the best reading material that ever accompanied my years of subway sojourns between Brooklyn and Manhattan, making my commute not just tolerable, but enjoyable.
Blaze
Published From 1998 to 2000
Selected by Daryl McIntosh
I don’t recall any magazine being almost immediately embroiled in controversy like the Vibe offshoot Blaze Magazine. Just before the dawn of a new millennium, Blaze took an unconventional path to cultural journalism and many times became intertwined in the most interesting storylines of the culture. Exposing Bad Boy hitman producer Deric “D-Dot” Angelettie as the reoccurring Madd Rapper and giving an unfavorable review to Canibus’ debut LP are just two examples of Editor in Chief Jesse Washington serving as a survivor of hip-hop’s quick-temperedness to help rappers become demigods in the eyes of young listeners. But with all drama aside, Blaze had its moments of brilliance with its edgy style of observational reporting and was one of the first publications to give a platform to the battle rap culture.
Issue #3, which features one of the most valiant attempts to document hip-hop’s 50 greatest emcees is a personal treasure that adorns the wall of my mancave to highlight one of the seminal moments of the late 90’s. In a short period of time, Blaze managed to get under rappers’ skin and into hip-hoppers’ backpacks with an unmatched, aggressive approach to observational and embedded urban journalism.
Living Blues
Published From 1970 to Present
Selected by Steven Ovadia
If you're a blues fan, the only place to get regular blues information is Living Blues. Founded in 1970 and run via the University of Mississippi's Center for the Study of Southern Culture, the magazine covers contemporary artists, but also features lots of in-depth histories.
Living Blues is serious. There's nothing casual about it. Blues fans often see their love of the blues as a war. I'm not sure who the war is against, but the price of losing the war is the death of the blues. Living Blues represents the drum that keeps the forces moving forward.
As a result, it's not a magazine you take to the beach. Although, in the interest of honesty and accuracy, I will admit I've taken it to the beach. Many beaches. But I've regretted it every time, because when you sit with it, you want to take notes. It sends you tumbling back to seek out long-dead artists you've never heard of, but also new artists who aren't going to break through via conventional channels. As a result, I save all of my old issues, because the information is that good and that timeless.
SPIN
Published From 1985 to 2012 (Print) | Currently published digitally
Selected by Justin Chadwick
Through my family, I was exposed to a multitude of different musical styles growing up during the late 1970s and 1980s. But as my teenage years approached and the 1990s beckoned, I latched on to one form of music in particular: hip-hop. My passion for hip-hop was insatiable. But in retrospect, my fervor for the culture and art form was an isolating one, as I stubbornly refused to invest time and energy in expanding my musical palate beyond rap.
This all changed when I arrived at UCLA and found myself surrounded by new people, experiences and ideas that loosened me up and expanded my world view like never before. In between classes, I often killed time perusing the wares on offer at the Ackerman Student Union newsstand and SPIN, arguably more than any other magazine, sparked the flame of musical discovery in me, particularly when it came to learning more about the indie and alternative rock scenes.
In some respects the print equivalent to MTV’s 120 Minutes, SPIN helped fuel my love of artists I now count among my very favorite (PJ Harvey, Liz Phair, Beck, and Garbage to name a few), while ensuring that my mind forever remained open to exploring music beyond my immediate comfort zone.
Right On!
Published From 1971 to Present
Selected by Christopher A. Daniel
Right On! Magazine added a lot of soul to newsstands full of fanzines drenched in white teen idols. Thanks to Cynthia Horner, black kids coming of age in the mid to late 1970s through the 1990s and beyond got to see their heartthrobs—Michael Jackson, TLC, New Edition, Usher just to name a few—underneath colorful block cursive font on the cover.
It meant the world to open it up and pull out glossy posters before reading the brief Q&As or the contests that put our favorite artists front and center. It opened the door for Black Beat and Word UP! magazines to show the world that black teen idols were newsworthy.
4080
Published From 1992 to 1997
Selected by Jesse Ducker
It was only a matter of time before hip-hop became enough of cultural movement to sustain a “regional” magazine, and 4080, the product of the Bay Area’s flourishing hip-hop scene, was one of the best. Starting as a black & white one-sheet, the magazine had a relatively brief publishing window from the early to mid ’90s. Even though it grew to be sold throughout the nation, it still maintained its Bay Area flavor. During it publication run, 4080 gave some shine to some of the Bay’s most exciting and dynamic talent along with covering artists from all over the country.
Rappers and crews like the JT the Bigga Figga, Souls of Mischief, Master P, Mac Dre, Conscious Daughters, and Saafir all got some serious shine from 4080 long before they made it “big.” It also gave some love to lesser-appreciated artists from around the country, like Kool Keith. It even was the inadvertent source of rap beef, as E-40 dissed AZ on “Record Haters,” after the latter was misquoted in the magazine throwing shots at the Yay Area legend.
URB
Published From 1990 to 2009 (Print) | Currently published digitally
Selected by Justin Chadwick
“Urban” music is a fairly broad genre classification and certainly one that’s open to different interpretations. But at its core, the music is multicultural, cosmopolitan, and genre-fluid, reflecting the eclectic lifestyles and world outlooks that define those who call our great cities home.
The magazine that arguably best encapsulated the eclectic spirit of urban music and culture was the aptly titled URB, a Los Angeles headquartered publication that celebrated the various strains of dance, electronic, hip-hop and beyond. While URB’s editorial staff paid reverential homage to the histories and legendary artists of these subgenres, they always had their fingers on the pulse of the future as well, as evidenced by their usually prophetic, annual “Next 100” feature.