Ten years after it started, Magnet is still putting whatever it wants on the front.

Thatís why when Magnet, a Philly-based international music mag with overt indie rock predilections, put Pete Yorn on the front of issue 59, a number of readers cried foul. This was the magazine that put Stephen Malkmus, Superchunk and Tortoise beneath the logo. And when they have "veered" into major-label land, itís hard to knock their cover choices: Wilco, Tom Waits, Flaming Lips. What, then, was a popular pretty boy singer/songwriter like Yorn doing on the cover of Magnet?

"I happen to like Pete Yorn," says editor/publisher Eric Miller without a hint of defensiveness. He helped found the magazine 10 years ago. He digs Yorn's first album, and he thinks the second one's pretty good too. For the record, the article was not a straight-up fluff piece, and besides, Yorn isn't exactly Dave Matthews. "People criticize him without having heard him. I didn't like the idea of Pete Yorn until I heard his record."

Needless to say, the issue generated some feedback. "Half the letters were like åHow could you put Pete Yorn on the cover? He sucks,'" says Miller. "The other ones were åPete Yorn is the greatest, coolest person in the world, how come you dissed him in the story?'"

Choosing a cover image is always a challenge for Miller and the other three staff members. Zines have it easier; small audience and low expectations mean they can put any old thing on the front cover. At the other end of the spectrum, Rolling Stone can put any old thing on the cover (like the Olsen Twins) and get away with it because they are king shit of fuck mountain, and people will buy it if only to hate it.

With a circulation of 35,000 copies every two months, Magnet is somewhere in between. Only 3,000 are subscriptions. The face on the front has to sell the magazine while at the same time staying true to its indie-leaning readers. "There's a very finite number of bands or artists who could be on the cover of Magnet," says Miller. "I wish there were more people like Tom Waits. I wish there was more Wilcos, too."

Framed covers adorn one wall of Magnet's cozy Chestnut Street office, starting with issue one and continuing until they ran out of room a year ago. As at any given indie show at The Khyber, most of the faces are white and male.

"Sometimes people have said there's not enough women in Magnet, there's not enough black people, there's not enough of this minority or that minority," says Miller, who assures that the magazine's policy is not one of intentional exclusivity. "We're trying to cover the kind of music that we all like and listen to and think is important. If people walked into the office and saw how small it was, they'd be kind of surprised that the four people in the room produced a magazine."

In 1993, starting a national magazine was not a daunting idea. "It was a very optimistic time," Miller recalls, citing the rise of Nirvana and "alternative" music. "It seemed like anything was possible. Suddenly [bands] you knew had videos on MTV -- 120 Minutes and stuff like that." Still in college, but already experienced (several members of Magnet's original editorial staff got their feet wet at Philly Rock Guide), they jumped into the task.

By '95, Miller was the last of the founding members to stick with the publication, seeing it through good and bad times. At one point he moved back home, but continued to work on the magazine in his parents' basement. Steadily, Magnet's reputation and following started to build. "I think they've grown with us. I always imagine our average reader would be me."

Philadelphia's a good fit for Magnet -- it's cheaper than New York and close enough to use the Big Apple to host interviews and photo shoots. "It seems like in New York all the magazine guys are always hanging out with the publicists," says Miller. "It's a whole clique that we don't have to be a part of. We can exist completely separate from that."

Magnet's otherwordly existence is obvious in their most recent issue, wherein they tabulate the top 60 records to come out during their 10 years. Number one is Neutral Milk Hotel's In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, chosen after consultation with staffers and freelancers. The disc hardly made waves in mainstream magazines when it came out. Spin called it "the best album you didn't hear in 1996;" Rolling Stone dismissed it as "drab." But the indie community and rock nerds in-the-know won't knock Magnet's choice. (These would be the same people warmed by the sight of Jon Cusack reading the Sleater-Kinney issue of Magnet in High Fidelity press shots.)

A large contingent of said people are expected to converge on the Trocadero this Saturday for Magnet's 10th birthday party, headlined by Guided By Voices. "GBV's sort of been synonymous with Magnet from the beginning," says Miller, who's put frontman Robert Pollard on the cover four times. "I take so much shit. But I'll admit: They're my favorite band."

Magnet Magazineís 10th Anniversary Show with Guided By Voices, The Shins and My Morning Jacket, Fri., Sept. 5, 7 p.m., $19, all ages, The Trocadero, 1003 Arch St., 215-922-LIVE.