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I subscribed to Loud and Quiet and now I’m writing about it

Published in life, music.

Not long after lockdown started, I saw a tweet from Gemma Samways about Loud and Quiet, a music magazine I’d never read before. Pre-pandemic, it relied on advertisers to pay the bills, and gave away the magazine for free. The pandemic took away gigs and festivals and most of the mag’s income, so the editors were planning to switch to a subscription model.

I signed up on the spot, and this morning my first paper issue of Loud and Quiet dropped through the letterbox.

Back in the 1980s, teenage-me discovered the NME and became a regular reader. I got so addicted to it that I started getting up early on Wednesdays (I think it came out on Wednesdays) to visit the nearest newsagent and grab a copy. So addicted that I bought almost everything it recommended, and that I could afford to buy.

I’ll never forgive NME for suggesting I buy that godawful album by The Farm, but I’ll always be grateful to it for helping me discover The Chills, Ride, most of the 4AD catalogue, Yello, electronica and house music, De La Soul, most of the shoegazing scene, Pulp, Orbital, Wire… the list is very long.

Time moved on, I moved on. Music became less of a focus for me, and the NME drifted out of sight. I haven’t been a regular reader of any music publication for donkeys.

Now along comes Loud and Quiet, desperate for subscribers to fund its survival, at a time in my life when I’ve got more time for, and interest in, new music. I present radio shows now. I need to keep up, right?

L&Q comes in a recyclable cardboard envelope, rather than a plastic bag. I like that.

Subscribe here to recreate that 1980s Wednesday morning vibe for yourself.