Sound & Vision once commanded respect. Sony, Netflix, and even 60 Minutes visited the magazine’s offices on the 45th floor north of Times Square. Apple personally delivered its first iPod to the magazine to get the opinion of the technical editors before the company had even announced the groundbreaking product. I was lucky enough to jog around the Central Park Reservoir with a thousand songs in my pocket when people still carried cassette players and radios.

Today’s edition of the magazine is a far cry from what it was then. There is only one issue left. AVTech Media Ltd, a British publisher, confirmed to the Guardian on 20 August that the print edition of Sound & Vision would cease after the upcoming October/November issue. The magazine’s website, which has a tiny editorial budget compared to the print edition, will continue. The hard truth is that digital advertising has not been able to match the sales levels of print advertising.

In a statement, Mark Henninger, publisher of Sound & Vision, said: “Sound & Vision’s move to a digital-only format is more than just adaptation – it’s about success. Our readers demand immediacy and convenience, and this move allows us to deliver the high-quality content they expect without the delays and limitations of print. While we are proud of our print heritage, it’s time to turn to the future and ensure Sound & Vision remains at the forefront of the industry, right where our audiences need us.”

I have a long association with the magazine, having been the founding technology editor at S&V. I continued as editor of S&V and wrote a regular column for the print magazine until the end. The only surprise about the print edition is that it has endured so long despite more contemporary competition from cheaper, web-only sites.

Founded in early 1999 at the dawn of digital television, S&V combined two magazines, each with its own storied history: the older Stereo Review and the newer Video. I was editor-in-chief of Video from 1996 until that magazine’s last issue. The former had fostered amateur interest in hi-fi equipment; the latter rose to prominence as videocassette recorders changed the way consumers watched television. Rather than segment these enthusiast markets into one for audio and one for video, France-based publisher Hachette Filipacchi Media US (HFM) decided it could broaden its audience and advertiser base by promoting the concept of home theater: bringing the booming surround sound and big picture of a movie theater into every home.

In the early years, the gamble paid off. Issues regularly ran over 178 pages, sometimes as many as 200, and the major consumer electronics companies bought loads of full-page ads, expecting Americans to replace their traditional cathode ray tubes with high-definition televisions and flat-panel displays. LG, Sony, and others bought ads. Panasonic bought a memorable page for its new line of HDTV sets, proclaiming “impeccable reception.” In the magazine’s heyday in the early 2000s, circulation was reported at 450,000 copies (including newsstand and mail-order subscriptions). In seeking interviews with company executives and analysts and to discuss products, editors rounded the number up to half a million, adding that the number did not include referrals. With great success, our publisher invited the advertising and editorial staff to a dinner and horse racing event at the Meadowlands in New Jersey.

Companies flocked to the S&V offices for expert opinions and feedback. Sony sent a team of engineers on a plane from San Diego to the S&V lab on W 38th Street when editors noticed interference lines marring the supposed TiVo killer’s otherwise pristine image. (The culprit turned out to be an unrelated wireless device in the lab.) We accepted the Netflix co-founder’s invitation to stop by and introduce his company before most had ever heard of Netflix. A crew from 60 Minutes filmed an editor walking through the office for B-roll footage for a highly anticipated piece on the role of pornography in driving new technology. Just being in the magazine’s office meant working on the front lines.

From a technology editor’s perspective, these were the best of times. Unlike a fashion magazine that chronicles seasonal changes in hem lengths, everything here was changing rapidly. The first issue of S&V reported on the first portable MP3 player, several years before the iPod, and how people were using a new device with a dial-up modem called WebTV to receive rudimentary Internet content on their televisions. DVD players were booming. Napster had assumed the importance of Xerox, giving anyone a license to make unlimited copies. The deep blacks of Pioneer’s plasma screens left video fans wanting more. The high-resolution images revealed stunning details like the wrinkles on actors’ faces. People learned to love discrete audio channels that provided surprising sound effects when experiencing movies and crime series with Dolby Digital audio on their multi-speaker systems. Viewers were thrilled with their newfound ability to use a hard disk recorder to skip commercials, or as we put it, “to watch 60 minutes in 45 minutes.”

During our observation period, large-screen TVs went from space-consuming quarter-ton boxes to wall-mounted screens. Resolution increased from the 240 lines offered by a typical VCR to 1920 x 1080 Full HD to 4K and beyond. Terrestrial broadcasting largely capitulated to cable and satellite TV, which in turn succumbed to streaming and portable screens. It was an exciting time to write the first draft of technology history.

Unfortunately, even technology magazines were not immune to the dramatic shift from print to pixelated. S&V’s last issue, August/September, was 76 pages long, with only 12 full pages of advertising. Through the screen-sharing service Zinio, S&V made facsimiles of its print pages available for download on phones and tablets for those willing to pay another subscription. However, much of the content appeared for free on soundandvision.com after publication. A magazine that cost $7.99 a copy on newsstands could hardly compete with the same publisher’s free content. Moreover, it had become almost impossible to find a newsstand with real magazines.

A number of publishers scrambled to turn their dwindling print publications over to other owners. I was involved in a 2006 layoff of senior staff before HFM launched its titles, which led to a 2009 sale to Bonnier Corporation, the US division of Sweden’s Bonnier Group. In 2013, Bonnier sold the magazine to Source Interlink, which then folded its own consumer electronics magazine Home Theater into S&V. It also changed the name of the publishing group to Ten: The Enthusiast Network. In 2018, Ten sold the magazine and associated websites to AVTech, which is now ceasing print circulation.

I studied magazines in journalism school at Syracuse. Every magazine I worked for over the decades has been consigned to the dustbin of history. I guess my real focus was writing obituaries.