By the 1980s, Rolling Stone had entrenched itself in the popular consciousness as the rag of the establishment. White faces dominated its covers and its editorial staff. The same disrespect shown to disco and dance musics the prior decade moved on to hip hop. A rival on the newsstands was needed as much as wanted, and in May 1985, a challenger appeared.
More than a mere smart alternative to Rolling Stone, not just the snotty li’l cousin, Spin posited itself as a worldly magazine, the cool-ass uncle. On the cover of issue #1 is Madonna at fair sultriness, next to a promising strip of articles within: U2, Frankie Goes To Hollywood, Fela Kuti, Stryper, Bryan Ferry, Bronski Beat, Sade, Run-DMC, the Replacements, Del Fuego. Issue #2, Jerry Harrison and David Byrne are tasked with balancing the likes of Billy Joel, Nick Rhodes, the Smiths and the entire “Go-Go Underground” while Tina Weymouth and Chris Frantz daydream about holding Byrne’s head into a Port Authority toilet.
What was Rolling Stone putting out? Well, the May 9th issue boasts Madonna also, alongside Rosanna Arquette (Their New Movie’s Hot). If you’re in the mood for Hunter S. Thompson on Saigon, Martin Short, Tom Wolfe, and the scourge of ticket scalping, please, come right in. In the mood for music? Sorry, you’ll have to wait two weeks, when Phil Collins’ll be derping it up. Smart choice, guys, I mean who wants to see look at Sade anyway? The first June issue gives Julian Lennon his sunshine, which, hey, the kid was ubiquitous at the time. Two weeks later, it’s David Letterman on the cover, an Eric Clapton interview and “The Go-Go Craze.”
Yep. Spin beat Rolling Stone to Go-Go.
I find it annoying as a blogger, but refreshing as a reader, that Spin has thus far eschewed a trademark list such as the “500 Greatest Albums.” Refreshing because, as hard as RS ignores most jazz, metal and country in these overviews, Spin goes even harder. Annoying, because it means the mag’s narrative arc is a bit harder to chart. I can look at Rolling Stone and see how, in a sense, they’ve evolved from the hard-line old-school “greatest generation” musical mindset. It’s not about disavowing the pioneers, it’s about expanding the space. It’s not about bemoaning the alleged death of a sound, it’s about appreciating the reform of said sound.
With Spin, I dunno. Early on, their lists were irreverent. “Twenty Greatest Punk Songs Ever,” “The 100 Most Representive Funk Songs,” “Alt-Rock’s 42 Greatest Novelty Hits.” They had no agenda. Nearly forty years later, I'm unsure as to whether that's still the case. As it is, I’m looking over a mere five albums lists.
The “25 Greatest Albums of All-Time” from 1989 is a masterful snapshot of exactly what Spin was at that moment in time. Sex Machine rules the roost, followed by Swordfishtrombone and Blonde on Blonde. The soulful black guy the writers wanted to be followed by the homely white poets the writers wanted to be. I can practically smell the rotisserie chicken being wolfed down in the writer’s room. This is less a list of the actual 25 greatest albums ever, and more the 25 greatest albums from the artists they most wanted to emulate.
Spin came of age in the 1990s, as their early support of college/indie rock eased them into the grunge phenomenon. (Contrast with RS, who five months before the release of Nevermind published their “New Faces 1991 issue” featuring Charlatans U.K., De La Soul, Chris Isaak and the guitarist from Extreme.) Their “Top 90 Albums of the ‘90s” is ergo the only list they should ever concern themselves with updating, if only to see how drastically it changes with each successive generation.
Lamentably, the first is still the only. An intriguing little read, a ranking neither top-notch nor bottom-rung, the equivalent of a two-mile walk on a sweltering summer morning—I really didn’t enjoy it at first, but by the end, I was glad for the journey.
Lessee…Cibo Matto were an industry plant before I knew what an industry plant was…I’d like to think RJD2’s career has obliterated the need for any Fatboy Slim nostalgia. Putting notorious Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine hater Kristen Hersh above Raekwon is both ridiculously honest and honestly ridiculous, whereas I don’t believe the inclusion of Sublime’s self-titled monstrosity is anything deeper than an exaggerated nod to the continued popularity of the band’s logo. Glad to see Ten in the top half, given the recent critical trend of Pearl Jam un-appreciation, and fuck yes, There’s Nothing Wrong With Love is my favorite Built To Spill album. Not bad, not bad. I do take umbrage with Spin's placement of Illmatic at absolutely fucking nowhere, but hey, it was 1999, so the ether had not yet burned Jay-Z's soul.
In 2005, to celebrate the magazine’s first twenty years, Spin put together the “100 Greatest Albums 1985-2005.” Despite my reservations at the time, the OK Computer love’s held up well (better than the love for The Smiths, anyway). I have no qualms with Sign o’ the Times in the top 10 for several reasons, not the least of which is my amusement at the long-standing struggle for critics and listeners alike to consent on a “best Prince album.” (Sign, Purple Rain and 1999 each have ten people ready and willing to fight for it at any time, in any place.) Conversely, I’m by now resigned to certain narratives; namely, Daydream Nation is the sword in the stone and a worthy Pendragon has not, does not, will not exist. (The only mystery lies in whether Goo or Sister rocks the ruby-encrusted crown.)
Ten years on, how about the 300 best albums of the past thirty years? Silly; if you’re going to rank that many fucking albums, why limit yourself so relatively severely? On one paw, doing so frees you of particular pressures and blesses your list with a fresh varnish. On the other paw, you’re still allowing the likes of Achtung Baby and Different Class to play on the same grounds with Loveless and Dig Me Out. Also, see here, they’ve picked the wrong Built To Spill album! Fishscale over Liquid Swords? Everyone who's ever worked for Spin magazine is to actual Hell!
Sigh.
I’ll end on the best of the 2010s and guess what, it’s butt. For every Courtney Barnett and Best Coast, there’s a DaBaby and Paramore.
Grunt.
Rather than demean the music made during the decade, I’ll fix the spotlight of shame where it belongs: on the faux-adventurous, image-plagued, hyper-self-aware people responsible for these articles. Spin would do well to follow this motto re: lists: Go '90s or Go Home.
Tomorrow...my, how the turntables turn....
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