GOSH-DIDDLEY-DARN-IT FANZINE REVIEW! VULCHER #4 (available at vulcherfanzine@gmail.com)
With high energy rock reads like VULCHER around, I don't really miss the downfall of THE GOLDEN AGE OF ROCK FANDOM which ran from 1971 (the birth of JAMZ and TEENAGE WASTELAND GAZETTE) until roughly 1983 at the very latest (the short run of Nancy Foster's GROOVE ASSOCIATES, the last of the seventies-styled rags to truly incorporate the entire sixties/seventies fanzine ethos in the face of rising hardcore hippietude). Yes, with every issue of this great read the unbridled mania (that made millions of suburban slob blubbertubs who posed in front of their mirrors pretending they were giving proctological exams in the "men's" room at the old 82 Club) comes back a good fortysome-years after the fact, and even if you (like I) missed out on much of the mania due to depression-era wages and the fear of your parents finding that issue of NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC hidden under your mattress reading this is almost like you were there front and center for the latest sex orgy at Kenne Highland's Camp Penis barracks I'll tell ya!
It's a nice thick issue too which will have your heart palpatatin' just like it did during the barren eighties when the latest FORCED EXPOSURE or KICKS made its way to your door giving you some in-depth rockism pleasure at least until the next issues arrived. Another seventies sweetie adorns the cover (wonder whose sis/lay this was!), but it's what's on the insides that really will get your noggin a'twisted with many-a-heretofore unknown bit of information whether it be on a group you never heard of or something of a gigantic, earth-shattering nature which I will get to as this review unfolds. Believe me!
Even the tossout items don't make you wanna puke, like Kelsey Simpson's email interview with underground cartooness Trina Robbins who hands back to Simpson some rather pat answers that really don't say much. (Kinda like some of the interviews I've conducted so I know where she's comin' from!) But it's the raw spirit and idealism that gets me goin' here and as far as I can tell VULCHER #4 is almost like BACK DOOR MAN injected with an adrenaline overdose to the point where you think the mag's gonna burst into a load of intestinal moosh ready to splatter all over your face!
Personal faves this go 'round include Jymn Parrett's little blab on Australia's Wild Cherries (an act I tackled on this blog a few years back) not to mention the various sputum to be found on the likes of the Screamin' Mee Mees, the Crawlspace discography in detail (hey, this is more or less Eddie Flowers' baby!), the aforementioned Simpson giving Richard Lloyd the interview treatment with way better results, and Krazy Kenne H's various sputterings about dead people and his lineage (mom 8-th cuz to Edgar Rice Whatzizname) that'll have you thinkin' he made it all up. But he didn't.
BIGGEST SURPRISE OF THE ISSUE! This just has to be the "letter" from Jay Dobis, some guy who just HAPPENED to be not only the next-door-neighbor but a CLOSE PERSONAL FRIEND to none other than thee Jonathan Richman, who details a whole slew of never before told by anyone information regarding Richman and the Modern Lovers which'll give you brain indigestion as you take in all of the head swelling information being force fed inside your mind. BIGGEST BOMBSHELL: Dobis' revelation of an act NONE OF US knew existed, an all-gal band called the Bloody Virgins led by none other than former Velvet Underground percussionist Maureen Tucker! They were scheduled to play at that Lovers/George Thorogood Valentine's Day 1974 show (if you have that Varulven "I'm Sticking With You" single you probably have the repro poster of that gig which notes the appearance of Tucker bereft of any band mention) but didn't make the stage due to club owner stupidity! Boy, does this mere factoid screw up your brain like potrzebie, and this mere addition to the entire Velvet Underground legend is surely enough to add even more burning questions to the entire canon of whos, whats and wheres that I'll bet'll take more'n a few centuries to get to the bottom of!
Wanna read more about these bloodied ones, as well as many other interviews, articles and record reviews that are geared to resensify even the stodgiest of hardened olde tyme hardshelled post-underground rock 'n roll survivors? Just send 'em a note (link above...couldn't embed it so paste away!) and reap your just desserts! Yum....
With high energy rock reads like VULCHER around, I don't really miss the downfall of THE GOLDEN AGE OF ROCK FANDOM which ran from 1971 (the birth of JAMZ and TEENAGE WASTELAND GAZETTE) until roughly 1983 at the very latest (the short run of Nancy Foster's GROOVE ASSOCIATES, the last of the seventies-styled rags to truly incorporate the entire sixties/seventies fanzine ethos in the face of rising hardcore hippietude). Yes, with every issue of this great read the unbridled mania (that made millions of suburban slob blubbertubs who posed in front of their mirrors pretending they were giving proctological exams in the "men's" room at the old 82 Club) comes back a good fortysome-years after the fact, and even if you (like I) missed out on much of the mania due to depression-era wages and the fear of your parents finding that issue of NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC hidden under your mattress reading this is almost like you were there front and center for the latest sex orgy at Kenne Highland's Camp Penis barracks I'll tell ya!It's a nice thick issue too which will have your heart palpatatin' just like it did during the barren eighties when the latest FORCED EXPOSURE or KICKS made its way to your door giving you some in-depth rockism pleasure at least until the next issues arrived. Another seventies sweetie adorns the cover (wonder whose sis/lay this was!), but it's what's on the insides that really will get your noggin a'twisted with many-a-heretofore unknown bit of information whether it be on a group you never heard of or something of a gigantic, earth-shattering nature which I will get to as this review unfolds. Believe me!
Even the tossout items don't make you wanna puke, like Kelsey Simpson's email interview with underground cartooness Trina Robbins who hands back to Simpson some rather pat answers that really don't say much. (Kinda like some of the interviews I've conducted so I know where she's comin' from!) But it's the raw spirit and idealism that gets me goin' here and as far as I can tell VULCHER #4 is almost like BACK DOOR MAN injected with an adrenaline overdose to the point where you think the mag's gonna burst into a load of intestinal moosh ready to splatter all over your face!
Personal faves this go 'round include Jymn Parrett's little blab on Australia's Wild Cherries (an act I tackled on this blog a few years back) not to mention the various sputum to be found on the likes of the Screamin' Mee Mees, the Crawlspace discography in detail (hey, this is more or less Eddie Flowers' baby!), the aforementioned Simpson giving Richard Lloyd the interview treatment with way better results, and Krazy Kenne H's various sputterings about dead people and his lineage (mom 8-th cuz to Edgar Rice Whatzizname) that'll have you thinkin' he made it all up. But he didn't.
BIGGEST SURPRISE OF THE ISSUE! This just has to be the "letter" from Jay Dobis, some guy who just HAPPENED to be not only the next-door-neighbor but a CLOSE PERSONAL FRIEND to none other than thee Jonathan Richman, who details a whole slew of never before told by anyone information regarding Richman and the Modern Lovers which'll give you brain indigestion as you take in all of the head swelling information being force fed inside your mind. BIGGEST BOMBSHELL: Dobis' revelation of an act NONE OF US knew existed, an all-gal band called the Bloody Virgins led by none other than former Velvet Underground percussionist Maureen Tucker! They were scheduled to play at that Lovers/George Thorogood Valentine's Day 1974 show (if you have that Varulven "I'm Sticking With You" single you probably have the repro poster of that gig which notes the appearance of Tucker bereft of any band mention) but didn't make the stage due to club owner stupidity! Boy, does this mere factoid screw up your brain like potrzebie, and this mere addition to the entire Velvet Underground legend is surely enough to add even more burning questions to the entire canon of whos, whats and wheres that I'll bet'll take more'n a few centuries to get to the bottom of!
Wanna read more about these bloodied ones, as well as many other interviews, articles and record reviews that are geared to resensify even the stodgiest of hardened olde tyme hardshelled post-underground rock 'n roll survivors? Just send 'em a note (link above...couldn't embed it so paste away!) and reap your just desserts! Yum....
2 comments:
Eddie here. Thanks for the review, Chris. But you once again mentioned the cover without actually looking to see who it is. It's in the table of contents every time. Last time it was Rich Coffee's wife Melanie when she was a teenager. #4 has a 1970 shot of Claudia Bell long before she married Craig.
Jay here. Glad you liked my little article. I didn't live next door to Jonathan though. We lived about a half mile apart and were best friends from elementary school through high school. And we are still friends today, though we rarely get to see each other cause we live 10,000 miles apart, but we talk on the phone. BTW: I never hated Black to Comm. It was one of my favorite zines. I use to have about 10 issues, which I probably bought at In Your Ear Records in Boston... Ever since that Valentine's Day concert in '74, I've hated George Thoroughlynogood. The Bloody Virgins may have been THE best all-girl band ever… Still avidly waiting to receive my copy of Vulcher one of these days.
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