RIP to NME – the firebrand rock mag that elec-
NME (New Musical Express) magazine – which ceased being printed on Friday – was the holy bible for music loving teens over several generations.
Its demise brought a flood of memories back; memories of rainy Thursday lunch times spent flicking excitedly through the pages in the newsagents of my hometown. Stacks of NMEs, placed alongside Melody Makers, provided welcome relief from schoolbooks. The black print of the NME sang of the lives of rock stars – living amazingly exciting times. Band rivalries were played out in the column inches and band in-fighting provided a satisfying melodrama to while away hours on end. At a time when music videos were a rarity, the pages of the NME provided images of my favourite bands taken at gigs across the globe. The writers seemed, at times, to be as rock n’roll as the artists themselves and there was a clear sense that the musicians loved appearing within the publication’s pages. To be given a 5 star review by the NME, you got the sense, was the ultimate apogee a band could reach as the NME was a source of street cred within the industry, as well as being a trusted paper when it came to recommending bands to music hungry teens. The pages of the NME, (which I bought whenever pocket money allowed), afforded me a window into the world of the mad, the bad and the beautiful in rock at a time when who you felt defined by the music you listened to. I would glaze over the British underground scene, preferring to whet my appetite by reading the latest dispatches about American bands from Sebadoh to the Smashing Pumpkins, Jeff Buckley to the Stone Temple Pilots.
Growing up in a quiet town – made all the more quiet as I was shy and a ‘blow in’ – I found company and comfort among the NME’s boldly designed pages. The interviews with rock stars from Richie Edwards to Flea (of Red Hot Chili Peppers fame), offered something real in what, at times,