For its army of young and zealous readers, Smash Hits was a jape-a-page hooley of pop worship. There was nary a lick of snobby snark in the magazine’s pages, although if you knew where to look, you could find arch subtext amid the ‘bleeeuuuughhhs’ and the ‘sniiiiips’.
And for those on the inside track of pop’s behemoth publication, the fun was similarly unending. There were naturally a few unsavoury...
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