The Stool Pigeon Music Newspaper; Interview with Phil Hebblethwaite

In 2005, journalist Phil Hebblethwaite and design specialist Mickey Gibbons left their respective jobs to set up an independent and entirely free music periodical. Today, the Junko Partners and their music newspaper 'The Stool Pigeon,' set the benchmark for independent music journalism, attracting weighty acts and artists from above and below the commercial radar. Hebblethwaite's philosophy for success is simple; "If you produce something that is good, then bands will want to be in it."

The Stool Pigeon offers a candid, if not sometimes ruthless, response to the music industry from the inside outwards. None of the writers receive a salary, yet contributors are all established music journalists, sometimes from rival magazines writing under 'pseudo names', industry players or even artists themselves. The spirit of independence that The Stool Pigeon cultivates, has established the paper's reputation for veracity. On this point Hebblethwaite is emphatic "being an independent voice is absolutely crucial to what The Stool Pigeon is; it's the founding block of the paper. Not having any bosses, we can say exactly what we want to say. I think that this is what people have picked up on in the paper, perhaps perceiving, though it is a grand statement to make, that we have a bit more integrity than other papers. Working for other papers, journalists will often find themselves gagged for commercial reasons."

"It is a personal adventure in some respects, because we have left our jobs and we are trying to make a living. It would be a real achievement if we could ever do that..."

Muted criticism and overzealous endorsements from an ingratiating music press have undeniably tainted the indie scene. The NME, appears contractually obliged to present a new ‘best band since the Strokes' on an almost weekly basis. The struggle to fulfill advertising obligations and to please corporate sponsors is now pleasantly alien to Hebblethwaite. "Because we don't have publishers - we publish the paper ourselves - we don't have any commercial pressure. One of the reasons that we do this is because we are completely free to cover any type of music that we want to. We don't have to play around. We don't have to think "argh, we have to put a hot chick on the front cover in order to sell more copies". We know that the paper will go because people like it. I could put my mother on the front cover and people would still like it." This is illustrated effectively by the decision to place the sinister image of the Liars on the front page as opposed to the lovely and notoriously unobtainable Cat Power who, despite the exclusive nature of thee interview, is relegated to the later pages.

When Hebbletwaite left his role as music editor of  an extreme sports magazine, setting up an independent publication seemed a logical reaction to the frustrations of a media monopoly and the restrictions of a poorly administrated company. "When we were working on **********, we were producing what we thought, and what was critically considered, to be a very good magazine. Nobody had heard of it, but that had nothing to do with the quality of the magazine. It was run by publishers who were awful at distribution and marketing, and this got incredibly frustrating. The idea was that if we went independent, then we would have complete control of our destiny on the administration front".

Independence is notoriously difficult to maintain. Currently, advertising revenue finances the production and distribution costs, though Hebblethwaite guardedly concedes that absolute independence is problematic. "I suppose in newspaper production on a bigger scale there are grey areas. I know that some of the bigger corporations are keen to take more from magazines than just adverts; they want involvement. These grey areas are hard to define because no magazine will ever admit to them as it is a declaration of a complete lack of integrity. We haven't had too much pressure."

Projects of this nature require a formidable combination of idealism and determination. However, both attributes are too often divorced from the financial realities of the media world. With this in mind, it is something of a relief that both Junko partners have a remarkably grounded attitude towards the future of The Stool Pigeon: "We want to do it for as long as it interests us to do it. We are not particularly sentimental and don't expect to take it on for ever and ever. As soon as we get bored of doing it we will do something else... At the moment it is in such infancy and the idea is to just give it our best crack. It is a personal adventure in some respects, because we have left our jobs and we are trying to make a living. It would be a real achievement if we could ever do that, which hopefully will happen sometime."

It seems that the Stool Pigeon's independent future relies almost entirely on how long Hebblethwaite and Gibbons can afford the privilege of absolute creative autonomy. The state of Hebblethwaite's tattered office chair bears testament to the fact that editing, writing, administrating and distributing a paper is effectively a full time job without financial reward. "Being independent is a kind of commercial suicide. What is most important to Mickey and myself is to have something of an independent spirit. If that means the whole operation of doing it is going to be a constant nightmare to keep this thing above water, then so be it. Sooner have those kinds of stresses and do what you want to do than have to deal with publishers or commercial interests that compromises the expression of what you are trying to do."

Unfortunately, compromise of standards is one of the many hazards associated with DIY journalism and Hebblethwaite is notably conscious of this, emphasizing "if that in any way distracts from the quality of what we are doing, everything goes down the pan". Few readers would believe that each edition of The Stool Pigeon is in fact flown from the back of Hebbletwaite's sitting room and Gibbon's bedroom. The caffeine and nicotine stained nest of the Pigeon meets every popular myth of the over worked, under paid den of a hack. Despite this he maintains "where we do it from is largely irrelevant. Mickey I would probably kill each other if we were in the same room all of the time. We would like it if we could have more people working for us in an office, but for the moment, we can handle it. What would be brilliant is if we actually had a van so that we wouldn't have to waste money hiring one. If we were making more money then we could also print more copies. The most important thing with every issue is to be absolutely delighted with every inch of the paper, so that every story that runs is worth reading and it is presented in such a way that it is exciting and different. That is the absolute ground rule."

The quality of the Stool Pigeon and its domestic origins couldn't be at greater odds with one another. This makes it all the more satisfying that the most striking impressions of the paper is how impressively it fails to resemble any of its contemporaries. The majority of music magazines either possess a glossy sheen betraying their marketed intentions, or they are over indulgent and inaccessible artistic pamphlets, the product of overzealous design students rather than commercially disinterested journalism. Hebblethwaite wisely avoids comment on specific elements of the competing music press, instead commenting "Mickey and I never read many of the other music magazines or papers; mostly because none of them are that interesting".

Rather than manufacturing a hybrid of the most obvious leading publications, the balance of content and design achieved in the Stool Pigeon appears to be the result of an intelligent appraisal of what lacks in the market. Hebblethwaite describes The Stool Pigeon as "a free music periodical that is designed to read like a traditional broadsheet newspaper". The simplest concepts are often the best. For a publication that alludes to being an informant, a broadsheet seems the ideal layout, placing an immediate emphasis on a more formal journalistic content to the point that at first glance, one could be forgiven for mistaking it for an in-industry publication. Despite the potential design restrictions of traditional format, nothing has been sacrificed aesthetically; "The design is almost more important than what is actually in it. If it looks dreadful no one is going to pick it up. It is essential to have somebody who is visually clever and intelligent."

From a practical perspective, the use of a broadsheet is so cost effective that 60,000 copies are printed five times per year. It is the circulation of so many copies to a greater demographic than London that concerns Hebblethwaite. "If you are in London and produce a high quality paper, then attracting the interest of people who are involved in music is not too difficult. Getting it way out up to the tip of Scotland and getting hardcore readers in Aberdeen or Air - for us that is the most important job and is obviously a lot harder."

When asked what advice he would give those wanting to publish independent periodicals he answers without hesitation; "Do it first of all. Expect complete hardship for a long time. Don't compromise on anything at all. If you think that you can do a fifteen page paper then go for thirty. If you are going to do it, do it properly." After a brief pause he adds "Also - grab a graphics student, because if it doesn't look nice, then no one is going to care."

Visit the Stool Pigeon at: www.thestoolpigeon.co.uk