I used to read NME every week. That was back when I thought music was worth something and not the stinking corpse of a long dead cash cow that it is now. Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m just old.
Having to move with the times and compete in the digital age, publishing has to think outside of the box sometimes. It’s probably not even a box anymore. It’s probably more like an amorphous, four dimensional container comprised of pure energy or something. Anyway, they made the bold move of reducing the cover price by 100%. I’m not a money person so don’t ask me about the logistics of it. All I know is that it used to cost roughly three quid and now it costs fuck all.
The background of my involvement was a masterstroke of bad time management. They stopped production for six weeks completely to prepare for relaunch. Ages of time, right? Right. Except if you spend four and a half of those weeks not really doing anything and suddenly you’ve got to come up with all of the finalised launch event material in five days. And that’s when you get on the Batphone to call in backup.
Despite the inevitable stress involved it was actually quite fun, what with stepping outside of my normal zones – some t shirt designs and video action particular highlights. And I felt a bit like the Wolf when he turns up after John Trovolta shoots Marvin in the face. Only with a vastly inferior car.
Plus I also got to go to the event itself. Considering the name of the campaign, you’re damn right no money changed hands at the bar.
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