By Bob McMahon
By Allison Babka
By Kelsey McClure
By Carolina de Busto
By Ben Westhoff and Sarah Purkrabek
By Steve Brennan
By Joseph Hess
By Allsion Babka
Long has Magnet clouded the minds of those searching for truth, uselessly name-dropping obscure bands to frighten acolytes and make the music less accessible to the fans. Pharisees! It is not necessary to mention Scratch Acid, Halo of Flies, Killdozer, Pussy Galore, Big Black, the Butthole Surfers, the Cows, Nirvana, the Fall, Wire, Gang of Four, Joy Division and the Birthday Party in a single review, as they do in their latest issue.
But that is an old sin for this magazine. Now, Magnet covets the advertising dollars of their high-profile sisters Spin and Rolling Stone. Like a toddler trying on a sibling's clothing, Magnet has girded itself in ill-fitting glossy pages and Josh Homme covers. But, much like a child smearing lipstick in a deformed rictus on her face, the results are disturbing: Witness this month's cover story on Sleater-Kinney, who are interviewed by...Eddie Vedder? Vedder, who works in a mention of his washed-up band by column two of the article, represents a very sad state of hip, Magnet. Perhaps Black Oak Arkansas would like to interview Son Volt next issue? Could Leif Garrett interview Bright Eyes, pray tell?
Fatwa! Cursed forever are you unto your children's children to describing an album as "like Television jamming on Captain Beefheart with a Slits rhythm section at a party held by Orange Juice in P.I.L.'s kitchen" to people who just want to know if it rocks.
It is written. -- Ayatollah of Rock