Things were remarkably different in the pre-Spotify world. It was remarkably difficult to hear new bands as essentially the only way that you could sample an up-and-coming outfit was to buy their records (or to unscrupulously copy off your mates). We relied on the music press to describe to us what emerging scenes sounded like and the photos that accompanied those testaments could make or break a fledgling beat combo. I fell in love with Kiss not because of their songs but because of the photos that adorned my well-thumbed copies of the Kerrang and Metal Hammer. Paul, Gene, Ace and Chris in full makeup and faux body armour looked to the preteen Stewart like superheroes. They took my breath away and those early images ensured I became a dedicated member of the Kiss Army.

Metal is a visual medium. Without its images and its flare is essentially a flat one-dimensional genre. Yes music is about the sound and the sonic power, but its striking images and potent pictures that actually gives metal its unique charm. When I poured over gig reviews in Kerrang desperate to find my next favourite band, it was the photos that brought the words to life. It was the photos that made me decide that I loved Slayer, Sacred Reich and Carcass. It was the photos that made concerts seem so exciting and enticing. 

As someone who now creates those words, I'm very aware that I'm only telling half the story. Yes, my words can paint pictures but they are unable to fully capture the wonderment and utter beauty of live music. The photos that  go with my reviews are the rocket fuel that made my words sore. They allow the reader to imagine they are there and to fully comprehend the magic and majesty of whatever band I'm wittering on about.

But be honest we take these photos for granted and the work that goes behind them. For every five or six shots that go with my diatribe about a particular band, that photographer has probably taken a good 200. What they have then done is tirelessly and meticulously scoured over the shots to find the gold dust ones that capture and articulate the description that I have weaved about a particular band.

For every shot used there is literally dozens and dozens that have been abandoned because the shadow doesn't quite work or the security guard got in the way or the guitarist turned his head and just the wrong moment. It's about patience, it's about resilience and it's about keeping your finger on the trigger in the forlorn hope that one, just one shot will be okay.

Then there is all the equipment. Having tried to take snaps on my phone I know from bitter experience that the best gear gets the best shots. The reason the photographers seem to hold on to the camera bags with great intent is that they are carrying a small fortune in lenses, filters and cameras.   A cornucopia of highly sophisticated and ludicrously expensive gear for just that one shot of the singer holding his mike exactly the right position or the guitarist flicking is hair with wild abandonment.

But for every photographer, it's worth it because the right photo tells the whole story. Going back to the 13-year-old me flicking through Kerrang, I wasn't reading, I was googling with ravenous eyes at Axl bounding across the stage at the Marquee, Lemmy lording it at Hammersmith Odeon and Nuclear Assault taking no prisoners at the Astoria. My love for metal was cemented by the photos that I saw and my love for metal continues to be fuelled by the images that my colleagues Darren, Ryan, Jason and of course our illustrious head honcho, Johann, create out of seemingly nothing.

Photos are the lifeblood of what we do and they are the lifeblood of music journalism. I need a good 500 words to describe whether a band is really good but our photographers just need one image. Love our photos, share our photos, buy our photos in our shop shop but don't forget the amount of work that goes into creating them.