It was shocking enough when the proudly independent music publication Pitchfork was acquired by Condé Nast in 2015, but Anna Wintour’s recent announcement of its merge with GQ bangs the final nail in the coffin for the loved–and occasionally loathed–brand.
Originally launched out of a suburban Minneapolis record store by Ryan Schreiber in 1996, Pitchfork carved its niche in passionate and comprehensive reviews of alternative and independent music. A band’s fate often hung on where their album would scale on the ruthless 10-point rating, with careers made (Bon Iver) and broken (Travis Morrison).
Pitchfork’s writing style was marked by inconsistency and under-editing. Reviews were crafted with unabashed obsession, neglecting brevity in order to present albums in their full musical contexts. Despite its heavily opinionated and often controversial takes, Pitchfork’s judgement was consistently considered and respected.
While some of Pitchfork’s grungy spirit faded with the Condé Nast merger, its editorial choices are not to blame for its demise. It is simply another casualty in the epidemic shuttering online mid-size publications. The dire condition of journalism in the UK and abroad predates the coronavirus pandemic, with newspapers failing at an approximate rate of two per week. The few reporting an increase in readership are monopolising, as people tend to subscribe to the single newspaper which they deem to offer the best value for money. The New York Times, for example, offers a trifecta of global reporting, easy dinner recipes, and Wordle. More esoteric publications are left neglected, and their staff dismissed. Many Pitchfork writers and editors have been laid off in the transition, and with them, the rigorous dissection that albums and artists deserve.
The death of Pitchfork sends a chilling message to student journalists. Experimental writing is now being shoehorned into subscription-based newsletters on platforms such as Substack. While this model can provide a stable income for independent journalists, the revenue does not stretch to larger scale publication. Pitchfork represented a midpoint in the polarity between global newspapers and personal blogs, offering unconventional yet esteemed writing. GQ, however, is unlikely to allow such flexibility of style and spirit, nor the bandwidth for meticulous music criticism. Instead, consumption will shift further towards the more algorithmic drip feed of larger publications.
Mid-size publications dare young journalists to find their own distinctive voice. Audacity is praised and experimentation encouraged. The loss of Pitchfork points to a depressing homogenisation of reporting, more corporatised than ever before.
“Pitchfork Music Festival” by theglobalpanorama is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.
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What Pitchfork’s demise means for journalism
It was shocking enough when the proudly independent music publication Pitchfork was acquired by Condé Nast in 2015, but Anna Wintour’s recent announcement of its merge with GQ bangs the final nail in the coffin for the loved–and occasionally loathed–brand.
Originally launched out of a suburban Minneapolis record store by Ryan Schreiber in 1996, Pitchfork carved its niche in passionate and comprehensive reviews of alternative and independent music. A band’s fate often hung on where their album would scale on the ruthless 10-point rating, with careers made (Bon Iver) and broken (Travis Morrison).
Pitchfork’s writing style was marked by inconsistency and under-editing. Reviews were crafted with unabashed obsession, neglecting brevity in order to present albums in their full musical contexts. Despite its heavily opinionated and often controversial takes, Pitchfork’s judgement was consistently considered and respected.
While some of Pitchfork’s grungy spirit faded with the Condé Nast merger, its editorial choices are not to blame for its demise. It is simply another casualty in the epidemic shuttering online mid-size publications. The dire condition of journalism in the UK and abroad predates the coronavirus pandemic, with newspapers failing at an approximate rate of two per week. The few reporting an increase in readership are monopolising, as people tend to subscribe to the single newspaper which they deem to offer the best value for money. The New York Times, for example, offers a trifecta of global reporting, easy dinner recipes, and Wordle. More esoteric publications are left neglected, and their staff dismissed. Many Pitchfork writers and editors have been laid off in the transition, and with them, the rigorous dissection that albums and artists deserve.
The death of Pitchfork sends a chilling message to student journalists. Experimental writing is now being shoehorned into subscription-based newsletters on platforms such as Substack. While this model can provide a stable income for independent journalists, the revenue does not stretch to larger scale publication. Pitchfork represented a midpoint in the polarity between global newspapers and personal blogs, offering unconventional yet esteemed writing. GQ, however, is unlikely to allow such flexibility of style and spirit, nor the bandwidth for meticulous music criticism. Instead, consumption will shift further towards the more algorithmic drip feed of larger publications.
Mid-size publications dare young journalists to find their own distinctive voice. Audacity is praised and experimentation encouraged. The loss of Pitchfork points to a depressing homogenisation of reporting, more corporatised than ever before.
“Pitchfork Music Festival” by theglobalpanorama is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.
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