One of the essential music memories of my early years was stumbling across Rolling Stone for the first time. The '90s were just around the corner, and the venerable magazine had put out its "100 Best Albums of the '80s" issue. The graphic on the front cover, along with that title, made the endeavor seem both authoritative and hip. Without question, these were the best albums of the last 10 years -- how could they not be with such a presentation? The intelligent summaries that accompanied the list gave backstory, drama, and artists' recollections. And I was stunned by how many acts I didn't know: the Replacements, Public Enemy, X, Richard Thompson, Tom Waits, Lou Reed. Impressively compiled, the issue was a challenge to me, an overview of a world of great records I needed to hear.
Fifteen years later, I can't imagine any kid getting the same kind of thrill from the same magazine anymore. Too bad no one's told the magazine.
This week, amid much promotional hoopla, Rolling Stone will announce its list of the [clears throat for a touch of gravity] 500 Best Albums of All Time. You can't walk by a magazine stand without seeing a ton of these sorts of lists: Best This, Worst That, Greatest Such-and-Such. Readers love 'em because they're fun to argue about; magazine editors love 'em because it's a way to show off their taste, range, and knowledge.
This last point is especially crucial for Rolling Stone, which is in the midst of reasserting its relevance among rock readers. After years of de-emphasizing music in favor of movie stars and models, Jann Wenner's politically conscious, well-written publication had become a bulkier Entertainment Weekly, a more tasteful Maxim, an edgier Newsweek, a lamer Spin. When he hired new managing editor Ed Needham (formerly of FHM) over a year ago, Wenner made it his goal to bring the rock back. Since then, we've had a few best-of issues, investigative reports on Eminem and Lauryn Hill, and slightly fewer movie stars and models on the cover. (Thankfully for Rolling Stone, most teen-poppers are hotties and so you can put them on the cover while still insisting you're featuring music.)
But this Top 500 list is probably the most important issue they're released since the changeover. These special issues are a sort of State of the Magazine address to the world. This is who we are; this is what we like. Certainly it's a bid for legitimacy. I have not seen the list, but I feel comfortable saying it won't make a difference who's Number One -- or who's Number 458, for that matter. This is an enterprise that was doomed from the start. After all, just look at the people who are putting the list together.
A music magazine acquires most of its reputation from its opinions -- not just what the editors like but why. And while the record-review section has expanded under Needham, Rolling Stone's sway as a tastemaker is limited. With the exception of a David Fricke or a Toure or a Rob Sheffield, the publication's reviewers tend to have the same wannabe-hip tone. Rather than opting for colorful insight, the magazine homogenizes the idiosyncrasies of artists from Atmosphere to the Magnetic Fields.
And despite Needham's claims of wanting to shake up the thirtysomething publication, Rolling Stone never goes out on a limb, and its reviews never surprise you. Whereas individual critics have biases and distinct voices, a magazine usually seeks a dull consensus. Basically, a subscription to Rolling Stone allows you entrance into middle-of-the-road critical opinion. And if it does veer away from mainstream attitudes, usually it's something eye-avertingly embarrassing like Wenner's five-star exultation for Mick Jagger's terrible 2001 solo album.
With these troubles in mind, Rolling Stone has two options for their Top 500 list. Neither choice is appealing.
On one hand, the editors can cover the canon faithfully, explaining yet again why the Beatles and Dylan made such great albums. Throw in some rap, disco, and techno for spice, and call it a day. In other words, create the same list everyone already knows by heart. You could argue that a faithful listing would be enormously beneficial for a magazine trying to court a young readership: Hey, kids, you think Good Charlotte is good? Wait 'til you hear Derek and the Dominos!
But this strategy would also cement Rolling Stone's utter irrelevance in the current marketplace. Wenner's flagship didn't lose its audience because it didn't know music; it was because the magazine lost its voice -- its very perspective -- on what it covered. By comparison, Spin and Magnet irritate me because of their prejudices and exclusions, but at least they have opinions. They risk alienating some people, but they have forged a singular personality for themselves. Rolling Stone, even under Needham, wants to please everyone but just feels bland.
The other option for a Top 500, almost unthinkable for such a square magazine, is to be irreverent. Put the White Stripes' Elephant in the Top 10. Leave Sgt. Pepper's off the list entirely. This would be knee-jerk and disastrous. No matter how well the commentaries were written, most people would dismiss this strategy as desperate and calculated, shocking for shocking's sake. Plus, Wenner would probably quit the business before allowing a Top 500 without at least two Stones records near the list's summit. He may have hired a dude from a hot men's magazine to run his baby, but Wenner's still too much of a standard bearer to permit that much freethinking.
You have probably noticed that I've taken a rather cynical view of how this list is going to be determined. For instance, I'm not taking into consideration that maybe, just maybe, Rolling Stone's writers and editors will give some honest thought to what are the great and lasting albums in popular music' history. It hasn't even occurred to me that maybe they'll get in a room (like the folks who set up the NCAA college basketball tournament brackets) and fight over what makes the cut. Maybe they won't care about the readership, the advertisers, or their tarnished reputation. Maybe they'll just pick from the heart, weighing classics against current favorites.
Maybe it'll happen. But I doubt it. Too much is at stake. Which is part of Rolling Stone's bigger problem. Passionate music fans make lists because of how personal their favorites mean to them. Unless Rolling Stone does likewise, its editors will have proven just how little they understand music.
