Being Jann Wenner:
A Manifesto from Kent State’s ‘Rolling Stone@50’ Class
We admit it: We were stunned when Jann Wenner, co-founder, publisher and majority owner of Rolling Stone, announced he was selling his controlling interest in the magazine. We took it pretty hard because Jann didn’t ask us. He didn’t text us. Not even a tweet. As students enrolled in Kent State University’s “Rolling Stone @ 50” class — as far we know the only university course in the country looking at five decades of this publication — we think we have a vested interest. We’ve been fan-girling all over the place because Rolling Stone has lasted for five freakin’ decades, when most magazines take a dive after only five years. So we were bummed because we were planning a birthday party and Jann was offering a funeral announcement in The New York Times.
But then we read Jann’s words again, and it was clear he was speaking directly to us. He told The New York Times it was time for someone younger — preferably someone with a “lot of money” to take over. Gauntlet down, gauntlet accepted, Jann. We can’t afford to buy the magazine (the life of a college student is hard, man), but we’ve got some advice for the next owner(s). So strap it on, people. This is our manifesto.
1.It’s Rolling Stone, bitch. Let’s be clear: Cut out the corporate bullshit. It’s time to return to the 21-year-old, ballsy Jann we love so much. Remember who you were, who you are and especially who you are writing for. Your readers are passionate, smart music lovers who also care a lot about the state of American culture and countercultures. Your DACA coverage read like it could have come out of The New York Times. Your coverage of artists sometimes leans backward toward Tiger Beat. For decades you provided a brilliantly cutting-edge platform for iconic writers, iconic voices, iconic images. Your pages provided a sanctuary city for hippies, freaks and all forms of countercultures and subcultures. Quit trying to be a news mag or fan mag and be the RS we love. If you want to cover DACA, dig deeper where your authentic editorial voice matters. How have Dreamers influenced music, the arts, culture? Don’t give us the same coverage we can get — but aren’t buying, by the way — elsewhere. Look in the mirror and say it with us, “I am Rolling Stone, bitch.”
2. Here we are now, entertain us. To borrow the Pride slogan, “We’re here, we’re queer. Get used to it.” It’s well past time for you to get to know us. Long-form interviews may have elevated the RS brand a few decades ago, but we’re not digging them now. And we haven’t dug ’em for years. We know how to entertain ourselves in 140 characters or less. If you don’t draw us into your story in, say, six seconds, we’re over you. This isn’t all bad news, though. Consider all the multimedia options you have, and start really embracing them (not just “dabbling” in them). If you want to do lengthy interviews, broadcast them. Toss in some music to keep us listening or reading. Give us some song samples. Give us movement, color, pop, attitude.
And for the love of Jann, where the hell is the search button on your site?
3. Wanna see my picture on the cover… We used to know when someone made it big because they landed your cover. But lately, the cover has felt — well — safe. And that’s the last thing you want to be, man. Gone are the days when you compelled us with the grainy-cool Woodstock cover, John and Yoko’s fetus shot, or even Britney’s 1999 titillating debut. Your photography doesn’t have that sense of intimacy or exclusivity anymore, and the competition for eyeballs is getting fiercer every day. Bring back brilliant photographers who, in the awesome words of Annie Leibovitz, aren’t afraid “to fall in love” with the artists they shoot.
4. It’s an (all-inclusive) party in the USA. We shudder to write this, but Donald Trump may have stumbled onto something: It’s time to drain the swamp. Which swamp? How about the one that continues to exist in most newsrooms and on most editorial staffs across the country? It’s 2017, and women, people of color, the LGBTQ community, Latinos and other underrepresented groups have got to drive your freakin’ coverage, not just file an occasional story. It’s time to look for new and authentic and uniquely representative voices. End the boomer (and boomer-wannabe) reunion. P.S. Whatever else you do, please keep Rob Sheffield on board. He’s our spirit animal.
5. She’s a bitch, she’s a tease, she’s a goddess on her knees. We get it. You’re 50 years old, but you still have these teenage sexual fantasies. We feel ya’. But RS is still sexualizing and reducing lots of female artists, just like it did way back when your editors actually published an infographic on Joni Mitchell’s former lovers (’cause, we guess, Mick’s hook-up graphic wouldn’t fit into the issue). Start portraying all women as legitimate artists who own and control their sexuality just like they own and control their billion-dollar brands — don’t decide that only RS-anointed “rule breakers” like Lorde or Taylor Swift deserve respect. We get your obsession with Shania Twain’s midriff (ahem). But she’s got more going for her than an exposed abdomen: She’s sold over 100 million records and has won five Grammys. We also get that you don’t get Jessica Simpson, but she’s way more than the “Housewife of the Year.” Celebrity Net Worth says she’s worth $150 million, and her fashion empire is worth a cool $1 billion according to Forbes. (Hey, she might be a potential investor). These and other female artists are not vapid dolls.
6. Rebel, rebel, you’ve torn your dress. Like Miley Cyrus during her Bangerz era, don’t be afraid of pissing off your parents. Rolling Stone’s roots lie in bringing voice to a generation of rebel rockers. But you guys (and you sure write like a bunch of white guys), are becoming a little boring. Don’t be afraid of inciting controversy by covering stuff that matters that no one else is talking about. As America faces a growing epidemic of opioid addiction, why not explore the effect that lyrics glorifying casual drug use have on a generation of listeners?
Stick out your tongue, twerk onstage and let your freak flag fly to connect with a new age of media-obsessed fans. Stop taking the safe route. Stop covering the same artists three, four, five times. Focus on artists that are pushing new boundaries, breaking down genres and still going unnoticed. (By the way, you can’t do this until you clean the swamp. See #4.)
7. What a drag it is getting old. Once RS didn’t trust anyone over 35, and now you don’t trust anyone under 35. WTF? Find and feature young artists who are as passionate about today’s counterculture as Dylan once was. And then show them some respect, not boomer contempt. We get that you don’t get Justin Bieber. You may get off on calling him “Super Boy” and “Hot, Ready, Legal,” but while you were reminding your aging readers (in Tiger Beat prose) that he was young, he was making millions of fans around the world respect his work. As Biebs himself would sing, “Is it too late now to say sorry?”
What’s youth culture today? You may not know it intuitively, so hire people who do (we’ll send our resumes, we promise). Be prepared to move fast, because we’re hung up on instant gratification. Just like teens once discovered and then mainstreamed The Beatles and The Rolling Stones, we’re constantly in quest of the new and the relevant. The new generation of youth will be the ultimate tastemakers of their age. Paying them dust now would be the ultimate mistake.
8. This is the end, our beautiful friend (a message to Jann, the man). Shed no tears. You helped define generations. You introduced us to the idea that music has meaning. It matters. It shapes, drives and fuels movements. You taught us to question authority, even when you became the authority. Your work has changed us and changed the world. We thank you for the voice you’ve given to countless people like us. And by the way, if we didn’t care about your legacy, we wouldn’t be writing this. We’ll also be watching whatever you do next.
All our love,
Kent State University’s Rock Babies
