Arlo Lippiatt's Pint-Sized Punk brings hope to bereft Q readers | Rebecca Nicholson | The Guardian

The 10-year-old’s lockdown project could just spearhead a new generation of music mags

I started packing to move house last week, for the umpteenth time, and ended up going through an old pound shop laundry bag filled with those mystery bits and bobs that just seem to gather. Combing through it, I felt more morose than usual, not just because moving house is so horrible but because I kept coming across the detritus of my days as a music journalist: gig fliers, posters ripped from long-dead venue walls, magazines I’d once hoarded and then been lucky enough to write for. They felt like relics of a different time. They were, I suppose. Most of the magazines were gone or going.

Last week, Q became one of the gone, another casualty of the pandemic, ceasing publication after 34 years. I can’t pretend to be impartial about the news, because I wrote for it, and the announcement has left me with a sad, sinking feeling. It was a place where in-depth features about the usual artists, and the unusual ones, still had a home and I loved writing for it. The last piece I did was about an Australian busker who’d gone from living in her van to The Ellen DeGeneres Show in the space of a year. Her story was a proper story, not necessarily big-namey, but deserving of the space it was given.

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