Not that long ago I could still get a bit misty eyed about the dear old NME. I’m still subscribed to their email list and this evening the latest headlines dropped into my inbox.
– Selena Gomez (nope…me neither) overtakes Justin Bieber for most-liked Instagram photo ever
– Man Quits his job to go on a two-month Pokemon Go hunt
– Taylor Swift makes surprise visit to children’s hospital in Australia
In other words, the same vapid, clickbait that is plastered over every tabloid newspaper site, every inane showbiz Twitter feed and every other godforsaken ad-funded corner of the interweb. So what’s the point of the NME existing if it’s just going to indiscriminately peddle the same airhead fodder as everyone else?
It still exists as a paper thing, it’s free and is left in massive piles in your local HMV or Fopp – inside you’ll find adverts for Trainers disguised as “interviews” with Catshit & the Bottlemen or Bastille or whatever faux-Indie band is currently in vogue and gig/album reviews shorter than the photo captions they used to print.
It’s a far cry from 10,000 word essays on The Joshua Tree, Thrills ‘Believe it Or Not’, The adventures of Lord Tarquin and Prince Namor from Slowdive, Neil Kinnock on the front page, Raggle Taggle Vs Hip Hop, the latest Ozric Tentacles tour dates etc. I kind of wish they’d just stop now – whichever PLC owns it now has bled it dry of every drop of intelligence, interest, enthusiasm, opinionated nonsense, preposterous musical snobbery and wit it may have once had.1