Thanks to its zombie-like grip on a dwindling but loyal number of British indie schmindies, U.K. tabloidstitution the
New Musical Express has yet to be shuttered, despite those three words that everyone in the publishing world just loooooves to hear: "steadily declining sales." In fact, sales for the latter half of 2007 were apparently "the lowest ever" because British whiteys can now get 'round the clock updates on their favorite British whiteys (who can play guitar) for free anywhere there's decent Wi-Fi. But the occasion of the
NME's august uh 56th birthday has sent the yearly crop of rose-colored doommongers
onto the blogs and into broadsheets to fret over its imminent demise, but the folks at the
NME insist they can keep the pulped-wood version rolling off the presses until the damn Blur reunion or the brandy-fueled Gallagher brothers incest scandal finally breaks.
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