Vibe magazine is dead. Just like that. No wake, no second line, no funeral. Nothing. Vibe is gone like a pocket full of singles at an Atlanta strip club. Gone, but certainly not forgotten.
I can remember the inaugural Vibe magazine cover like it was yesterday. Snoop Doggy Dogg—as he was known at the time—mean muggin’ in a West Coast skully. This was 1993 and Vibe was on point like Stacy Adams, when Snoop, Dre, Suge and the West Coast were dominating the rap game, having momentarily housed the culture from its origins in New York. Vibe, the brainchild of Quincy Jones, who says he’s trying to buy his magazine back, was on the pulse and set to bring a certain journalistic legitimacy to hip-hop, similar to what Down Beat had done for jazz and Rolling Stone did for rock and roll.