[This is my weekly column for Global News. -AC]
In preparation for finishing our basement last year, I had to commit to a major purge. The Dumpster that was dropped off in the driveway was soon filled to overflowing, mostly with all the music magazines that I’d been saving for … something.
When the truck came to remove the skip, it groaned under the weight of thousands of pounds of newsprint and glossy stock: Rolling Stone, Spin, Alternative Press, Q, Mojo, Record Collector, Music Express, Sounds, Melody Maker, The NME, Word, Creem, Circus, Select, Classic Rock, Uncut, Kerrang, The Face. I bought them all every month, spending thousands every year.
I loved going to Chapters and Indigo on a regular basis, browsing through shelves and shelves of music magazines. Writers such as Hunter S. Thompson, Lester Bangs, PJ O’Rourke, Charles Shaar Murray, Dave Marsh, Greil Marcus, Simon Reynolds, Jon Savage, Jon Landau, Steve Lamaq and Stuart Marconie not only helped me with my music education, but also with my view of the world.
Then the Internet hit and my magazine addiction began to lessen. Around five or six years ago, I stopped buying music magazines almost entirely.