"Where journalism goes to die"

There was a time when music magazines viewed as their task to introduce their readers to new and interesting music. This time has come and gone. Music journalism of today, to the extent it exists, is close to necrophilia. Covering archival releases from Neil Young (it never ends), highlighting a 50-year anniversary of a Queen album, resurrection of Oasis, digging up Gram Parsons, what Roger Waters thinks of David Gilmour and vice versa isn't exactly new and interesting. We can all agree upon that the golden age of music magazines is over. Some magazines have ceased to exist (Q), some magazines are now only published bimonthly (NME), while others are still published monthly but, in practise, have moved over to the web (Rolling Stone, Mojo and Uncut). They are held up by a diminishing group of elderly men with purchasing power clinging on to their adolescent heroes. I have never cared for music magazines. The empty phrases and all the gibberish, the rumination, the stereotype journalistic angle, the pretentious narrative style, the incomplete sentence structure are things that bothers me. The low ambition is the worst. My website is sometimes referred to as a blog. Well, there are more blog posts than articles. But, on the the other hand, the regrowth in the genre is close to zero. I have never claimed to be a journalist or to have any journalistic ambitions. I'm only a civil servant with an internet connection. Some people say that music journalists are just failed musicians. That's not entirely true, but it sure explains a lot.