Yes, it is true. Sad, but true. The last issue of Kruger Magazine was the very last one we’ll ever do. I’m meant to be bashing out the last chapter of the Lady Gaga paperback that’s coming out in October, but it’s hard to concentrate. I feel a big fat blog post coming about this soon – but for now, I’ll leave you with words from the three chaps who I first met at the opening party of Sugar nightclub in Cardiff back in 2003, where I was DJing and they were on the blag for free drinks. It was the start of a beautiful relationship, and, I like to think, one of the things I’ve done in my life that was the making of me.
Kruger is dead.
It’s with heavy hearts and empty pockets that we announce that Kruger Magazine is dead, and will no longer be produced. The magazine may have been brilliant, but our business model was rubbish, so without any sign of long- or short-term financial improvement, we are unable to continue bearing the burden.
It’s been six and a half years since we first launched the magazine, and in that time it’s changed beyond recognition into one of the best written, most beautifully designed and lovingly crafted magazines in the UK, and that’s all down to the people who have helped us by giving up their time and lending their talent as much as they could along the way.
We’d like to thank everyone who supported us at the beginning, helped us struggle on to the end, and especially the people who saw the whole thing through with us. It was awesome fun.
Kruger as a business is not dead, so keep in touch to find out about our new ideas and projects. In the meantime we’ll be re-launching our website as an archive and tribute to everything we achieved with Kruger magazine, so come and say hello.
Thanks again to everyone who made it all possible. The fact we kept on going for so long is a testament to what you can do when enough people believe in the same thing.
And that’s it. What The Martini Henry Rifles said in four words, we said in 259. Typical.
See you soon,
Mike Williams, Joe Howden & Michaeljohn Day