Inky Fingers: The Highs and Lows of the Music Press, 1950 - 2010

Inky Fingers: The Highs and Lows of the Music Press, 1950 - 2010

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  • Create Date:2022-12-26 09:51:51
  • Update Date:2025-09-06
  • Status:finish
  • Author:Paul Gorman
  • ISBN:0500022631
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Summary

Inky Fingers charts the coming of age of music publications covering the contemporary bands, trends, and scene。 This book offers an oral and printed history of the journalists who described the wild landscape of the rise of rock and its evolution from the 1950s to the 2000s, through R, pop, the Summer of Love, punk, and beyond。 Author Paul Gorman chronicles the emergence of trailblazing music magazines in New York, Los Angeles, and London and their transformation into essential reading for anyone who cared about popular culture。


Gorman captures the extraordinary rise of the inkies on the back of rock and roll’s explosion into the postwar American and British youth culture。 He recounts the development of individual magazines from their Tin Pan Alley beginnings to CreemBlender, and Crawdaddy! followed by the foundation of Rolling StoneNMEMelody Maker, and Sounds—as well as the emergence of dedicated monthlies such as QThe Face, and Mojo。 Evoking the golden age of the music press, the book is illustrated with iconic magazine artwork and archival photography throughout。


Writers such as Charles Shaar Murray, Greil Marcus, Nick Kent, and Tony Parsons not only documented the wild excesses of Led Zeppelin, the Who, and the Clash but also played an integral part in the development of the success of the bands themselves。 Painting a complete picture of the scene, Gorman also tackles the entrenched sexism and racism faced by women and people from marginalized backgrounds as they tried to make it in the music industry, whether as musicians or journalists。 An incisive and entertaining ride, this volume is perfect for anyone interested in popular culture, magazines, and underground cultural history。 

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Reviews

Gavin Hogg

A dive into the world of music papers, going back to the early days。 I knew nothing about the genesis of music publications so it was fascinating to read about the Melody Maker starting in 1926。 Although the text is fairly split between the US and UK, it was the British press I was more interested in as I knew a lot of the characters and understood the references。 As with any book that's trying to cover a wide area there were certain things which didn't chime with personal experience - Select on A dive into the world of music papers, going back to the early days。 I knew nothing about the genesis of music publications so it was fascinating to read about the Melody Maker starting in 1926。 Although the text is fairly split between the US and UK, it was the British press I was more interested in as I knew a lot of the characters and understood the references。 As with any book that's trying to cover a wide area there were certain things which didn't chime with personal experience - Select only gets a few pages but in the mid-nineties it felt like the only music magazine that everyone around my age was reading。 Lots of coverage of fanzines, which was good to see, including some early ones like Pressure Drop, the reggae zine launched in 1975。More than anything, the book made me want to sit in a big reading room full of old copies of the NME, Smash Hits, Q, Select, Word and fine zines and wallow。 We didn't know that things would change so quickly - thanks a lot, the internet。 。。。more

Graham

Whatever happened to the music press? The weekly inkies with their idiosyncratic repertory companies of insufferable know-alls, motormouths, upstart crows, teenage tastemakers, solipsists and fantasists, common room anarchists, preening poseurs and pseudo-intellectuals。 Paul Gorman’s engrossing history of the popular music press starts in 1926 with the launch of Melody Maker。 On the cover of that first edition was one Horatio Nicholls who the paper eulogised as ‘the world’s greatest popular comp Whatever happened to the music press? The weekly inkies with their idiosyncratic repertory companies of insufferable know-alls, motormouths, upstart crows, teenage tastemakers, solipsists and fantasists, common room anarchists, preening poseurs and pseudo-intellectuals。 Paul Gorman’s engrossing history of the popular music press starts in 1926 with the launch of Melody Maker。 On the cover of that first edition was one Horatio Nicholls who the paper eulogised as ‘the world’s greatest popular composer’。 Horatio Nicholls was, in fact, the songwriting pseudonym of the magazine’s publisher Edgar Wright - an early example of the sometimes murky relationship in the music press between praise and hype。 By the start of the 1970s Melody Maker was firmly established as the most popular and widely respected of the music papers。 With its journalistic approach to pop music it was authoritative, factual and just a touch dull。 Nonetheless, it covered a wider spectrum of popular music than any of its rivals。 If you’ve just dropped in from another planet and want to get a quick overview of what happened in pop music in the ‘60s and ‘70s you could do a lot worse than check out some back copies of dear old Monotony Maker as it was affectionately, or perhaps not so affectionately, known。 The template for what became the rock press, as distinct from the popular music press, was set in the late ‘60s by small American magazines like Crawdaddy! and Mojo-Navigator。 This can be summarised very simply: young men showing off or just behaving very badly。 This testosterone-charged nascent format resulted, for better and worse, in a whole new genre which took flight in the ‘70s。Having grown up as a pop music obsessed teenager in that decade it’s difficult for me to escape the conviction that it marked the golden age of music journalism。 Such judgements are, of course, enormously subjective。 They’re not, in fact, judgements at all, but sense-memory and those of a different generation or sensibility will have different memories and other preferences。 The 1980s, perhaps, which saw the emergence of the glossy monthlies led by The Face and the start of the gradual decline of the weekly papers。 Doubtless there are those for whom it was all downhill following the tragic demise of Accordion Times in the 1940s。 What can’t be disputed is that the British music press in its pomp exerted an influence which the American publications could only dream of。 There was a symbiotic relationship between the music and the journalism。 In their perpetual search for the Next Big Thing the papers hyped many a duff band and non-movement but also contributed to the dynamic flux which characterised the British rock scene。Anyway, in 1972 the ailing and hopelessly out of touch New Musical Express successfully reinvented itself as the hippest pop paper in the known universe。 NME was published by corporate giant IPC (as was Melody Maker。 Sounds was financed - and I’m indebted to Gorman for this fascinating factoid- by a company owned by that celebrated punk rocker Rupert Murdoch。) but it drew some of its writers and much of its attitude from the British underground press of the late ‘60s。 Afro-headed Charles Shaar Murray, who had contributed to the notorious Schoolkids edition of OZ, and the androgynous Nick Kent, formerly of Friends magazine, became almost as legendary as the rock stars they wrote about and certainly cultivated their images and personal mythologies as assiduously as any。 NME had attitude to spare and was hilariously iconoclastic。 It gained a reputation for being outrageously rude about rock stars and biting the hand of the music business that fed it。 Mind you, this was the 1970s and these boys, though unutterably cool, weren’t quite as enlightened as they thought they were。 Sexism and homophobia were commonplace。 Bare breasts adorned the gig guide and the debut album by gay singer Jobriath was dismissed as the ‘fag end of glam rock’。 Gorman quotes Neil Spencer as saying ‘NME was incredibly homophobic’。 And Neil Spencer should know because he used to edit NME。 Indeed, the music press was very much a White and heterosexual boys’ club。 When NME, the last surviving weekly, closed its print edition in 2018 an era had definitively ended。 Music simply no longer occupies the central space in youth culture that it once did。 The music press has a curious sort of afterlife, and not just online, in the shape of the heritage and specialist magazines, but they connect with nothing beyond themselves。 Popular music and the press that both reflected and shaped it once served as catalysts to private dreams, alternative worlds and unknown pleasures, but those days are now consigned to the history chronicled in this wonderful book。Totally Wired is meticulously researched and staggeringly comprehensive。 It’s clearly a labour of love but also impressively clear-eyed。 Gorman conveys what was great about the music press without ever ignoring its faults and an important strand of the narrative concerns the slow emergence into the mainstream of once marginalised or silenced voices。 He writes well about the misogyny experienced by female journalists, the marginalisation of Black music and writers and the sniggering homophobia。Perhaps there was never a golden age but there was, at least, a silver one and it’s certainly not coming back。 The best music journalists were essentially fans who wielded a mean typewriter。 They inhabited an obsessive worldview of intense passions and hatreds。 Their work had little to do with being fair-minded or objective and was all the better for that。 They echoed the Dionysian power of the music and careened schizophrenically between innocent enthusiasm and terrifying psychotic loathing。 They had a tendency to get carried away and there were many of us who loved being carried away with them。 。。。more