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BOOK REVIEW! PUNKZINES -- BRITISH FANZINE CULTURE FROM THE PUNK SCENE 1976-1983 BY EDDIE PILLER AND STEVE ROWLAND (Omnibus Press, 2021)

There have been a nice hunkerin' stack of books written about the whole fanzine-fandom relationship that's resulted in a lotta home-produced publications bein' printed up and a lotta trees bein' cut down, and this 'un's the latest in a spankin' long line of 'em. And, in case you didn't know, that mere fact'll do any true blue lover of these "small press" efforts pretty darn good. 

Yeah, in the years before MAXIMUM ROCK'N'ROLL and FLIPSIDE turned punk into punque into the militant wing of the Even More Communist Than Those Other Communists Party there were fanzines devoted to the rougher side of rock 'n roll. And believe-it-or-not, but a good portion of these rags possessed a good amount of spark and vigor that in many cases permeated this breed of whatcha'd call (for lack of a better term) an underground press. Thankfully, PUNKZINES manages to capture the spirit and downright fun of these mags which were around to document a scene that was bound to mutate and change along with the writers and the fanzines themselves probably faster'n even these self-produced publications could keep up with, but that's perhaps something for another book. 

If you weren't there well, PUNKZINES really does bring a whole lotta the passion and emotion up front and atcha to the point where for once you young turds'll stop blabberin' 'bout the boomers as if they were all stoned out hippie no-accounts still pattin' themselves on the back for bein' oh so virtuous.

Not that anyone would call PUNKZINES all inclusive as some bigname titles such as THE NEXT BIG THING are missing which perhaps makes this book about as accurate as a portrait of Abraham Lincoln without that boil on his face. Hokay, maybe author Eddie Piller hadda beef with THING honcho Lindsay Hutton and left him outta this one due to spite alone, but NBT or not PUNKZINES still holds up really swell as far as books regarding that particular era in rockscreeding which came and went while most of us were still out there enjoying it all kinda dumbfounded as to what a good portion of this stew eventually led to.

Personally many of the mags that get mentioned don't really wow me the way a whole lotta the ones that were comin' outta the US of A and elsewhere did. I kinda like the rags which sorta spread their coverage across a wide swath kinda like what BACK DOOR MAN, OUT THERE, DENIM DELINQUENT, I WANNA BE YOUR DOG and countless others were able to do, with great visuals and writing that was so good you'd even read an article even if you didn't like the act that was being written about. Unfortunately many of these British mags concentrated on their own particular punk tastes which is fine enough, but I gotta admit to liking the pubs which kinda let their kajoobies drag onna sidewalk a bit 'n didn't mind bucking the trend ifyaknowaddamean...

There are some English mags that did --- the first few issues of PANACHE seemed to ignore the trend towards total wall-to-wall spikoid hair groups while JUNGLELAND, another Scottish effort much in the NBT mold that gets passing praise in these pages, was not above its own punk image to print articles on the likes of John Lennon and Bruce Springsteen at a time when such acts woulda been given the back burner in these mags. Even the first few issues of SNIFFIN' GLUE tended to mix the present with various historically punk prosody as did SIDEBURNS which eventually coagulated into STRANGLED with their heavy duty Stranglers homage intermingled with much needed coverage of the kinda bands that counted. Its the coverage of these mags that make this book kinda/sorta special for me, a read that I'll have on hand to refresh myself as to the special place in rockism these fanzine editors deserve even though for the life of me it'll all be forgotten within a few short years, mark my word.

Up there with a variety of collections and homages that have been floating about as of late and even better'n that sappy book Wertham put out trying to decipher the fanzine idiom while rescuing his soggy image. Good enough that it might even spur me on to pick up that book on British football fanzines that's up and about, even though you all know for the life of me I hate sports. Takes up too much of my energy watching rich people running around for no real particular purpose as if we're supposed to look up to these cretins 'r sum'thin'.