TIME FOR YET ANOTHER FANZINE FANABLA!!!
The fanzine pickins seem to be drying up what with the crucial mags that I'm
on the search for either too obscure or too expensive for my bread and water
budget. I do manage to snag a few good 'un's here/there, and like when I do
you know that it's a time for heavy duty rejoicing 'round these parts! I mean,
frankly what else would there be to toss the cornflakes about given my rather
snoozeville existence where instant pudding is cause for celebration!
Here're just a few of the fanzines that I've managed to
obtain within the last few months that I think you'll want to read about, that
is if you like me and Fredric Wertham are fans of the do-it-yourself
publications that have been cluttering up various modes of fandom for the past
ninetysome years!
***
Prime catch of the post just has to be the second issue of a fanzine that I have
praised to the hilt many-a-time, mainly
PANACHE. Reg'lar readers'll
remember just how much I've raved about this long-running English mag in a
number of Fanzine Fanablas, and unlike many a crudzine that made it out during
the days of punk, hardcore and any variant that lives on even to this day these
issues hold up like an iron bra. Even with the lapses into mainstream cornball
tastes these early
PANACHEs read like a good seventies fanzine shoulda,
and #2 ain't no different what with the heavy duty froth that Mick Mercer packs
into each and every review and fave group namedrop, as if you didn't already
know that after reading my previous reviews of this esteemed publication.
The putdown of human dungheap Julie Burchill's own PANACHE putdown
was a fantab way to open the rag, especially when you consider my general
loathing of the gal and her long history of hipster
better-than-everything-on-the-face-of-this-earth snobdom. But dried out hags
aside this ish roars on like a steamroller in a Don Martin cartoon. Given the
pure unadulterated fact that this came out in England and in 1977, ish #2 acts
more like a genzine a la TB SHEETS than one devoted to any
particular music style or sub-genre (a fact mentioned in my review of #1 in
the previous FF but given you readers' short attention spans I thought it best
to reiterate!). Sure there's ample space given to the bigger up and cummers of
the day like Generation X and the Damned, but there's also a rather large
review of Frankie Miller's latest spinner as well as a piece on
ex-Family/then-current Streetwalker Roger Chapman, a guy who never really did
anything for me given how his brand of prog rock never hit any bullseyes in my
musical psyche but eh. The results, especially compared with those
"punkzines" who were definitely into "the superficial aspect of the quest",
are quite refreshing.
Hefty kudos are also in store for the Nick Drake article. Now I don't care for
the guy or at least what I have lent my lobes to regarding his depressing
catalog, but writing a piece on this singer/songwriter in '77, years before
the big Drake revival that seemed to overcome alla you fanzine/blog types,
does earn Mercer some bonus points for doing something "hip" a good twentysome
years before the rest of us latcher-onto types ever caught on.
As with the other early PANACHEs there are loads of bootleg reviews
although the acts reviewed like the Eagles, Boz Scaggs, Fleetwood Mac (the
bigtime-era Stevie Nicks Mac that is) and Steve Miller do lend to a sort of
puzzlement on my behalf. And a review of Pink Floyd at some Wembly show really
doesn't help the mag's "cool" quotient much, but why should anyone care since
this second ish is nice to thumb through, somewhat readable and next to some
of those nth-dimensional fanzines I've seen in the eighties and beyond it sure
has a nice sway and spark to it. Plus it sets the pace for the next few issues
which I find exemplary in the realm of 1977 English music fanzines which claim
to exude some punk aesthetic.
***
Well, whaddaya know! Yet
another issue of
JUNGLELAND has
made its way to my farted up bedroom and like well, yeah, I really woulda
preferred some of the very early issues which focused more on a
howshallwesay mid-seventies breed of fanzine aesthetic (see
PANACHE mention above) but I sure can enjoy this #6 with about as
much love and might as one could muster up. Content-wise there really ain't much
to differentiate
JUNGLELAND from a slew of then-contemporary rock
fanzines but then again well, so what since the spirit and fervor found in
this 'un matches the same sorta passion that one would have found in such
competitors as
THE NEXT BIG THING and
BACK DOOR MAN around the same time. Good enough overall coverage
that will remind many of us oldsters about all of the fun we had pouring through
bootleg bins on the search for the latest Patti Smith live effort or our plain
curiosity about what groups with names like the Adverts or Saints actually
sounded like. Kinda makes me wish I was born to superrich people and could live
that spendthrift decadent lifestyle I always admired even if I woulda ended up
like a veggie in a worse condition than J. Paul Getty III even!
***
For years I actually believed that I was the only person within at least a
fifty-mile radius that enjoyed the kinda music and moom pitchers and other
definitely suburban slob things that I did. Really, I couldn't imagine there
was ANYBODY other'n myself in the not-so-immediate area who listened to the Velvet
Underground and watched old black and white television programs and stayed up
late for CREATURE FEATURE because like --- well --- the
people who surrounded me were way bigger SNOBS than I ever would have thought walked God's Green Earth. Most all of
'em were (and perhaps remain) the kinda jagovs who upped their noses at the
raw and alive sounds and actually creamed bvds if they found out the library
had a backlog of ROLLING STONE mags. Y'know, people who
actually listened to and enjoyed Foreigner. You've heard about 'em but you
never thought they'd move into your neighborhood.
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You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that
there
were a few cool nabobs of positivity hanging around
in the area and that a good portion of 'em might have even lived within
walking distance! Joseph Johnson didn't (and perhaps even
doesn't) live in the immediate vicinity but his magazine
3:AM was
published within a relatively close proximity to where I reside and like, I
really do find that 'un a huge surprise in itself. I guess
there
were folk other'n myself who were staying up late for
low budget horror flicks, and it's more'n just obvious that Johnson was but
just one as this title devoted to reviews of those low-grade horror mooms
this reading audience undoubtedly loves proves
This guy must have had a load of buckskins overflowing in his wallet given
the plethora of films that he either hadda buy or rent, cinematic excursions
that might not have popped up at your local cement block they call a theatre
but if you knew which channels to tune into or went to one of those lower
class urban hangouts where the guy sitting next to you puts his hand on your
knee you probably saw more'n just your fair share of these! Thankfully the
rise of video rental spaces helped the cause somewhat and hey, nowadays you
can even tune into a good portion of these mooms free via Youtube so yeah,
you can say we've come a long way baby from them days when the local tee-vee
stations decided to ax these classic low-fi wonders in favor of --- whatever
it is that is being shown these days as if I ever would tune in even if
there was a tornado warning!
Lotsa cheap-o horror, sci-fi and even a few teenbo gone wrong flicks get
the 3:AM treatment here, and it's sure boff reading someone
else's opinions regarding these kinda films that sure were a whole lot more
satisfying than all of those bigtime H-wood efforts that women with names
like Pauline and Judith used to moisten orifice over. For a guy like myself
who ALWAYS got those throb
tingles from old television shows that were fun beyond belief and the mooms
that the audience for these films were catered to you can just bet I like
pouring through this, catching up on the kinda flickers that seemed to
vanish once the concepts of childhood and teendom were obliterated and
people were just born small adults 'r somethin'.
But as the tee-vee commercials say
THERE'S MORE for besides the truckload of film writeups there's a portion
of
3:AM devoted to the kinda music only lowlife scum and
pariahs like ourselves could go for! After all, Johnson himself admits that
he wanted to be Iggy Pop during his high stool years and in my mind that
sure beats Junior Achievement! In fact,
3:AM is dedicated
to none other'n Lester Bangs and, as Johnson himself writes at the beginning
of the music section:
'n although I associate (Edouard) Dauphin with the likes of Rick Johnson
and the post-Bangs crew at that mag (even though I do think CREEM's demise
began when Bangs was still on the masthead --- some of those '76 issues
weren't exactly tippy-top!) I sure can get into the gist of what Johnson
is trying to relate to us high energy rock fans during a time when funtime
"culture" pretty much tumbled into a valley of mediocrity that we never
have arisen from. People/acts like the (original) Rolling Stones, Roky
Erickson, the Stooges and Moving Sidewalks get the huzzahs here while
local legends Sister Ray's NO WAY TO EXPRESS gets the pan which only makes
me hope that Johnson is packing some heat if he ever makes his way to
Youngstown Ohio and someone recognizes him! Brave move on his part --- I
wouldn't have the courage to do what he did nosireebob!
Even though what the man has written above may not be whatcha'd call "historically accurate" (I mean, hardly anybody
in Youngstown Ohio [one of the worst places ever for a rock 'n roll fan to
exist] ever knew of let alone cared who Sister Ray were), I wonder how
Johnson feels about the currently revived (for the nth time) CREEM. 'd hate
to even broach that subject 'round him.
I thought I had another ish of this somewhere in the fanzine pile but I
can't locate it. I can't even remember if I wrote it up somewhere
(googling my own blog never helped or else I wouldn't have re-reviewed
records I wrote up twenny years back!) but if I ever do find it boy, you
can bet that I'll be locking myself in the bathroom with something
other'n a catalog of John Koch nudes!
***
Other'n for KICKS and the early mimeo'd issues of
WHO PUT THE BOMP! I gotta admit that I really don't care one whit
for many of the fanzines that concentrate all of their energies on the
pre-moptop era of rock 'n roll. Too many of 'em like STORMY WEATHER,
one of the original standard bearers for fifties-rock mags, were just too
staid and restrained (in no way reflecting the style of music that was being
discussed) while many of the English ones that I possess come of rather
textbook-y if I do say so myself. Only ROLLIN' ROCK had a crazed
fannish swing to it which I gotta say captured everything that was boss and
hep about a music and an era which seemed to get washed away by the tide of
yeah yeah yeah never to return. Or so we thought, though when it
did it was just
more rehash for the HAPPY DAYS crowd.
That's why I had a teeny weeny bit of trepidation regarding snatching up an ish
of
PAUL'S RECORD MAGAZINE, one of them rags that was also heavy duty on
the entire fifties/sixties rock 'n roll craze with a good twenty or so years of
rear-view mirror hindsight that tended to put things in what one would call a
normal perspective. Had a choice to choose from and settled on this particular
one because none other than the Mexican/American rock 'n roll act the Premiers
of "Farmer John" fame got the ol' cover spot and like, better them than the
millionth article on Chuck Berry.
Nice choice, but the problem is that this is not the same buncha
Premiers who recorded "Farmer John" but a New York vocal act who had actually
been around since '56, Yeah, the disappointment really set in, especially when
I thumbed through the article and saw the group members' then-current pix
showin' 'em in matching tuxedos, nylon hair and awk those flavor saver
mustaches! Looked like a buncha bad snaps of some mid-seventies groom with his
best man and consort all ready for the big day!
No doubt about it PAUL'S RECORD MAGAZINE was a collector's as
opposed to fandom (in the best possible non-catalog number/foreign picture
sleeve way) oriented magazine complete with discographies and articles on all
of those wonderful hacks who were covering and imitating Buddy Holly thus
turning his memory into total mush. Still there are some bright moments in
here, such as an article on Jerry Vance, the guy who was involved with Lou
Reed at Pickwick records writing a whole slew of songs later to be
immortalized once people discovered Vance's Reed connection. Also interesting
is a brief and positive mention of Eddie and the Hot Rods which should account
for some sort of fanzine no prize if there were some such sort of thing.
Nice professional print job and saddle-stabled color papered cover which
reminds me of the third issue of WHAT GOES ON if you dare to
ask. Don't think that any of the other PAUL'S RECORD MAGAZINEs that are
available would be worth snatching up but still, it was a rather worthy
fanzine effort at least for the record collecting, fifties loving audience
that was bound to eat it all up.
***
REVIEWSIT was a fanzine that seemed to get its fair share of
coverage if you go by the writeups that used to pop up in BOMP!, but
the first ish of this I got (reviewed on a by-now twenty-year-old post on this
very blog) didn't quite make it out to be whatcha'd call a top contender. No
pix and nothing but reviews of some of the then-contemporary records (talking
mid/late-seventies) that only reminded me about the less-enthralling moments
of that best/worst of times era. This '76 ish ain't that much better but eh, I
still love the thing to pieces. Eight pages (inc. the cover) with
nothing but critiques of acts by people who I'm sure you'd spit upon had you
seen them on the streets, but so what because they are way better people than
any of you so-called "readers" tend to be and like I cherish their existence
way more than I do yours.
Redwing (who were still going somewhat strong long after their '71 debut) pop up
on the cover, and although I didn't like what I have heard of 'em I feel that
they are a way more worthy choice for a cover spot than had some other seventies
bubbling under of lesser worth made them pages. The overall choice of subject
matter for review shows just how bland them days could have gotten although a
writeup of the Boize single does offer a glimmer of hope.
Despite the fact that you'll have to struggle through reviews of everything
from Skyhooks and other direct-to-cutout yawners at least REVIEWSIT's
got some life to it, not to mention one-time FLASH contributor
Larry Keenan who I sure wish got around a whole lot more back in them days
when the likes of Mikal Gilmore and Ben Fong Torres seemed to be the ideals
that most "rock critic" wannabes seemed to aspire to.
***
The early age of rock fanzines sure gave us a load of mags that time has
surely let slip through its sieve-like mind. Of course everybody remembers the
early editions of CRAWDADDY and perhaps CREEM before
it "evolved" into a solid contender to ROLLING STONE, but
MOTHER outta Texas and Boston's VIBRATIONS seem to be
comparatively forgotten while those very early issues of
NEW HAVEN ROCK PRESS seem to be obscurer than obscure. But other'n
NHRP (still in its home mimeograph stage) these mags tended to be
somewhat professional with high quality paper, clear reproduction and at times
even a glossy cover.
Anyway got this rarity offa Internet Archives which is a place that just might
end up being the go-to for rare and oft-ignored ancient fanzines that most of
the time we never even knew existed in the first place. With a title like
POP-SEE-CUL maybe I shouldn't be expecting much, but I gotta say
that what I found on the inside of this Montreal read was whatcha'd call rather
for the norm as far as these early rock fanzines go.
Nothing that outta
the fanzine ordinary what with the same kinda reviews of the same big names
inna biz, but it does have its swing. Can't recall most of the names that put
this '67 effort out (#5. June-July) but st least one ring out and that is the
late Juan Rodriguez, a Montrealer who not only ended up getting a big city
paper gig but was a close pal of none other than R. Meltzer back when Prince
Pudding himself was roaming the burgh in the mid-seventies. You can add up at
least a few goody-good points to POP-SEE-CUL for that little fact
alone.
Actually most all of the writing is par for the course. Unfortunately there is
no Meltzer here to punkify the proceedings but the articles and reviews are
pretty snat in themselves and the mag does sport a Paul Butterfield interview
which, considering this was done up during the days of the classic
EAST-WEST platter, was definitely whatcha'd call a major coup.
Reviews of the Stones, Byrds and Spoonful (the latter one by Rodriguez)
aren't anything outta the ordinary but still a whole lot more palatable than
the offal one would read in any choice college paper from then on. And if I
forgot to tell you about the two-page piece on Andy Warhol and company (with
snaps of the Velvet Underground and Donovan reading over Nico's shoulder) then
shame on moi!
Bad parts include a short story that started off dismal-like though might have
gotten better if I had only continued reading it, as well as more'n a few
tears being spilled over the Vietnam thingie which isn't bad
per-se but badmouths LBJ, and you know just how much those campus
radicals who loathed the guy in '67 just started slobbering all over him
saying what a wonderful fanabla he was only a mere ten years later! An
interview with Paul Krassner ain't that much of a drawing point for me either
and like, why the reprints? I mean, the Dylan piece from
CRAWDADDY wasn't exactly something that you would call a rarity,
though the Lou Reed/Angus MacLise piece on Indian music from the
ASPEN box wasn't exactly hitting the front porches so that was a
rerun that I'm sure many people could've found beneficial.
***
I might have said that BUCKETFULL OF BRAINS was one of the more
boff fanzines to come out of Merrie Olde in one of my earlier fanablas, but
then again maybe not. Too lazy to do the research myself, but anyway this mag
was one of them winners that just showed you the wide ranging influence that
ZIGZAG had on the English fanzine scene whether it be via attitude
or layout. And like ZIGZAG,
BUCKETFULL OF BRAINS transcended the typical 5-10 issue lifespan
of many a rock 'n roll oriented home-produced mag going on and on and on even
until the present day which only goes to show you that in the world of
fanzines there can be whatcha'd call real deal success stories, unlike what
has transpired with a few other piddling efforts that have sprung up o'er the past fortysome years.
This issue #48...fancy schmancy cover unlike the plain and pleasing ones that
graced the first twenty or so. Professional typesetting too which sorta lacks
the charm that the early typewriter-pecked efforts gave us. And as for the
content well, it's finer than fine if you ask me with the infamous English mod
group the Action featured on the cover as well as pieces on the usual acts that
fit into the entire
BUCKET mindset. Now some of these performers I
don't really care much about but others (like Kim Fowley, a guy who I once
called the Uncle Dudley of rock 'n roll which is something that all you Captain
Marvel fans out there will understand) are rather good considering the
whacked-out-ness of the subject matter.
The usual gang of idiots are writing the innards of this as well, some who I
can't really can't relate to while others like Jeremy Gluck are still around
like some old friend you can depend on for a real deal musical analysis.
And sheesh, although a good portion of the acts mentioned in these pages are
either unknown to me or just don't ring the bell of interest I gotta love the
way it is all laid out and presented to its niche audience, proving that if
there's an audience for something out there someone is just
bound to cater to it.
***
Besides
PANACHE and
JUNGLELAND I've been getting hold of
plenty of whatcha'd call fanzines devoted to the late-seventies/early-eighties
take on what punk rock was s'posed to be about, and thankfully (considering the
myriad assortment of downright turdburgers out there) some of 'em are doozies! I
dunno if you can call
FORGET IT! a top notch upper echelon type of
home produced punk mag but I sure dig this low budget printing and save money by
collating and stapling the thing yourself effort. I really enjoyed diving into
this 'un even if I would have been the kinda guy who probably would have upped
nose at this in favor of the latest issue of the definitely by-then post-fanzine
version of
TROUSER PRESS. I got that way sometimes.
The simplicity is what gets to me, as well as the gosh-it-all starry-eyed
sorta attitude that a few of us had about music and the development of a new
garage band generation that seemingly flourished if remaining underground
throughout the eighties and beyond. Live reviews, single (and no LP!) writeups
and hopes that someone with some clout would notice the true fire music of the
age can be found, thankfully written in a manner-of-fact youthful sorta way
that reminds me of just how naive some of us could have been actually thinking
that someday, somewhere, somehow the BIG BEAT would return and with a much
anticipated sense of good ol' vengeance.
***
And now back to England for
IN THE CITY, a rag that acquired somewhat of
a reputation o'er there given the few mentions I've read here and there. However
this 'un (#6) ain't anything that I would care to rah rah about.,,not that it's
not a halfway decent effort which is laid out rather spiffily if very similar to
most of the other punk rock oriented fanzines of the day, but because the groups
featured, the Rezillos, Magazine and the Tom Robinson Band, just ain't the kinda
musical acts that got me up and moving my feet the way some of their competition
could. Other issues might be better, and come to think of it I might have
reviewed one of 'em right here on this very blog sometime back. Given my
sieve-like memory it's hard to keep track of things like this!
Whenever I hear the term "new wave" I think about what a put-on catch phrase
those two words had become by the early eighties. When it was once a
descriptor of a wide array of musical acts both traditional (going back to
mid-sixties teenbo aesthetics) and extremely avgarde, new wave eventually came
to mean controlled opposition, something that was supposed to stand for the
new and exciting but was merely the same ol' boring mainstream blah decked out
in wrap around shades and put on sneers. No longer did it come to mean groups
who were innovative and soul searing but the trite commercialization of of the
trailblazing acts that was custom made for those kids who actually fell for
the eighties anti drug/shine on your shoes media blitz so prevalent during
them days. Boring beyond belief sounds from groups like the Adults and
Insanity and the Killers, and since Anastasia Pantsios used to hype both of
those acts to the hilt you
KNEW they were
nothing but shuck.
***
When I first heard about the existence of
A NEW WAVE MAGAZINE I
kinda got the idea that their take on new wave was, like the record labels just
wanted it to be, just a neater way of saying punk rock. But
then again I went through all of this in the previous review and like, I do know
what short memories most of you readers most certainly have.
Given the nebulousness of that term it wasn't a surprise that the usage of
"new wave", especially as time rolled on, became even
more looser
than Aunt Mabel's vagina but anyway, how can you fault a mag that would slap a
snap of early Lou Reed on its cover while everyone else was content with using
some latest punk rock flash!
Not much in this ish that makes it special, but the guys who put this out
had the right idea what with reviews of those pre-Velvet Underground sides
and the
WHITE HEAT EP, the Stranglers' "Grip" 45, Generation X
live and a lotta attempts at poetry that just don't affect the soul the way
"akka bakka soda cracker akka bakka boo" does. A nice effort in its own
cheapazoid way tho.
***
Got yet
another issue of
WHAT A NICE WAY TO TURN SEVENTEEN, a T. Rex special at that which
warmed my own heart cockles and might do yours as well. Loads of
ad/article reprints that you may have seen before show up, and tinier
print than you've even seen in many of the issues of my own
publishing efforts also appears, but who can deny the funtime jamz that a project and
theme like this just oozes. The nice slick look only makes me wish that I
could afford such high quality printing and exquisite reproduction back
when I was putting my own crudzine out (remember, I was working on
depression-era wages and hadda penny pinch, sell scrap metal and scrimp
and save like anything to put my mags out
UNLIKE YOU RICH PRIVLEDGED KIDS who had
everything handed to you on a silver platter), and if you think that I
liked the previous batch of
WHAT A NICE WAY TO TURN SEVENTEENs I've
laid paws upon you can betcha how I feel about this particular effort!
***
I'm positive that even Karen Quinlan would admit that it was a rather barren time for aficionados of high energy
music what with the advent of MTV reducing the once wild-beyond-control
sounds of rock 'n roll (actually its castrated offspring "rock music") to
even lower levels of banality. And who could forget the eventual onslaught
of the blander aspects of heavy metal which at least hadda duke it out
with the new speedmetal variant for braincell exploding supremacy. The
only real things that kept most of us from taking the easy way out were
the likes of hardcore (the true end result of early-seventies heavy metal
+ late-seventies punk rock) and the so-called "garage band revival" which
came off oh-so-REFRESHING after being inundated with all of
that goody two shoes pop and fluff-weight "metal" that seemed to all the
rage.
Unfortunately this first issue of
BASTINADO doesn't quite
capture the crazed energies that did make them eighties somewhat
palatable. I don't hate the mag though, but since its pages features
groups that I either never heard of or never would consider hearing in the
first place it just flies right by me worse than algebra. If you're
copasetic with the likes of A Certain Ratio or UpRoar (one of about a
thousand groups that copped that name o'er the year) fine but sheesh, I
gotta admit that looking through this fanzine just gave me frightening
flashbacks to an era that was the beginning of a long line of aural
polenta that never did recover from the rising tide of mediocrity
(remember, I love cliches!) being passed off as new and innovative.
***
I thought little of
KID'S STUFF #8 and actually said so in the Fanzine Fanabla I highlighted only a
few measly words back. However I
do think way better of the
following issue which featured some rather insightful, non-fannish rah-rah
writing that I'll bet woulda fit in swell with some of the things that
were being written in the legitimate (and I ain't talkin'
ROLLING STONE) rock press 'round the very same time. A cover
feature on Bowie does add somewhat of a nice touch even if by that time
the new Bobby Darin was about to chameleon his way into total thin air.
Writeups on the Stooges, the Ramones and the elusive Worst thankfully
don't fall into some of the hagiozine ruts that I did whilst attempting
(and failing) to be literate during some of my lesser writing escapades.
Slim, one-sided printjob and definitely aiming for the crudzine look, but
KID'S STUFF is anything but that!
***
I just
KNOW that
I reviewed other issues of
AURA in a previous fanabla, but as
usual I'm too lazy to find out whether or not I did. If I have all I gotta
say is that there isn't that much of a difference between this
AURA (#2) and the others what with the mag's concentration on
the more out-there aspects of the musical form like Throbbing Gristle and
Metabolist. The playlist suggests a hefty concentration on the more feral
side of electronic rock 'n roll music (Suicide, Pere Ubu, Cluster...) so alla those flitzy kinda gals you knew who were into
plastic jewelry and bright red lipstick who thought they were oh so superior
to the rest of us (well, they were superior to the heavy metal FM rock
lunkheads but that's like saying snails are superior to amoeba) wouldn't
really go for a fanzine such as this. Well, that is saying something good, about
AURA that is!
***
Cleveland wasn't exactly whatcha'd call an area that was exactly conduit to
rock 'n roll as any post-mid-seventies WMMS playlist or the mere existence
of Anastasia Pantsios would obviously prove. Not to mention all of those
dead asses that were seated in all of those rock clubs giving some of the
most horrid cover (and "original music") groups an audience while the real
movers and shakers of the Big Beat were all but being ignored. I wouldn't
consider Cleveland as horrid as Youngstown as far as being conduit to a high
energy rock 'n roll mentality since the place did churn out some pretty
copasetic bands throughout the seventies and maybe even eighties (well, I
wouldn't count the Jehovah's Waitresses amongst 'em), and some much-needed
fanzine press that counteracted the media hack cut 'n past that one would
have read in what some might call the "legacy" press.
Here's a Cleveland fanzine I vaguely recall entitled
NEGATIVE PRINT and like, it's pretty much on par with a whole slew of similar-minded
self-produced beyond the cutting edge efforts that were making their way out
to who-knows-were during those sick 'n sorry times that were the eighties
(and nineties, oughts, teens...). It's a nice digest sized effort sort of
like the final issue of
DENIM DELINQUENT and as with most of these
mags it has that heart and spirit that made fanzine writing such a
refreshing change from all of the ROCK INC. quap that people on the search for energy were being force fed to the point of nausea.
It's par for the hardcore course but ain't no
MRR or
FLIPSIDE. Lots more down to earth and honest for that matter. 's
got a good interview with Sado-Nation (who I heard ages back and actually
forgot what they sounded like!) as well as a great editorial detailing the
sad decline of heavy metal into the same old "I wanna get laid" groove as
well as tons of record reviews and even ads, something which were nearly
impossible to get for my own
fanzine effort despite its long run and relative ability to get out when some
company would dare distribute the thing. And if you think I'm bitter well,
what would you expect?
Interestingly enough, amidst the writeups on the latest records that have
hit the usual hardcore radarscope a review of Jerry Lewis'
JUST SINGS appear which was written by Steve-O of Death of Samantha fame, and who according to
Wickedpedia was partially responsible for the publication of this fanzine
along with fellow bandmate Steve James! Quite interesting if I do say so
myself and somehow this fact makes my copy of NEGATIVE PRINT all
the more precious if I do say so myself!
***
Oh boy, a Crasszine! Well, I gotta admit that I do find a slight tad of
howshallwesay admiration for a few of them guys and gals wearin' the A's
with the circle 'round 'em in the way that they, unlike many of their
compatriots on the anarchopunk scene, actually lived up to the whole
un-chained and wild credo 'stead of just call themselves anarchists in order
to hide their communist sympathies. Still, you know that none of these
punques on the eighties anarchy trip could rock 'n roll to save their
long-unwiped butts...oh yeah, the Mob, Zounds and Astronauts were able to
put out some mighty efforts but otherwise most of these hippies in new
clothing were just too world-saving conscious and Politburo Precious to let
their spiky hair hang down and have any bit of fun.
As for an example of the stodginess of anarchopunk then and presumably
now well...this one episode of the MAXIMUM ROCK'N'ROLL radio
show keeps comin' to mind, the one where Tim Yohannon and crew had the Amerigan
representative of the Crass-associated Existencil Press on playing a variety
of Crass label items complete with an interview with the lass herself. When Yohannon asked the lady whether or not this music was to be perceived as
entertainment she uttered a definite
NO!, that it was all serious agitprop against the evil powers that be and in no
way could any of this be construed as something to be enjoyed --- not in the
slightest!
I keep mentioning this li'l anecdote if only because it seemed so obviously
unreal and against the entire concept of not only rock 'n roll but music but
any visual or cinematic or even slop art that appeals to the massholes out
there. Music that serves a political cause and in no way can even be
construed as being something to enjoy on a purely aesthetical level sure
sounds like something that would be created for and by a rather dour bunch
who couldn't settle back and enjoy a thing on this planet if their lives depended on it. The spiritual
successors of those bulky Soviet women who were so wrapped up in the
revolution that they couldn't crack a smile to show off their stainless
steel dentures. In fact I
do picture this dame as looking like one of those bulldozer-built
by-the-books "report all deviationists" Soviet women in their uniforms that
would always pop up satire magazines, the ones who used to flunk the hormone
tests at the Olympics and had suspicious bulges in their shorts! Well, actually no since she sounded more like some rail-thin lefty radical type with blue hair who probably still does gravestone rubbings whenever the dour mood hits.
ENIGMA #2 seems typical of the trend towards the humorless aspects
of
punque. Loads of collage art and poetry/lyrics or whatever they're
called fill up the xeroxed pages, albeit there are a fair share of reviews and
writeups on them early-eighties punks and punques who at least were seemingly
trying to keep the ol' rock 'n roll ball rollin'. And talk about being
stringent...many of the acts who get covered in these pages come off just
about as strict and downright humorless as the people who were writing about
'em without a shard of humor, concept of rock 'n roll as energy or perhaps
even a song in their heart because of...well, cruise missiles and some other hip cause of the day (remember "acid rain"?). Nothing but hippies fighting the same old causes, and from what I can make out their heirs
are out there en force if you can believe what you read on Counter-Currents
these days.
Hey kids, if you want to be anarchists go read Lew Rockwell or some old
Murray Rothbard articles and see these rabble rousers you oh-so admire for
the slick tricks they always were and shall remain. After all, it you are
for everyone doing their own thing without a hassle from the man you ought
to let them corporations rake in all the bucks they want and let all the
homos cornhole each other and the pampered upper-class children run around
on wild rampages. Just don't give these companies any corporate handouts or
take any tax money to fund AIDS clinics or complain when you get shot up
during a crazed hallucination that has you running down the street nude with
an assault rifle in your cummed up paws.
***
And finally for this issue's decidedly non rockism-oriented
fanzine entry we have the fourth issue of an obscurity I have previously written
about in rather glowing terms, mainly THE FARCE OF FANDOM. This
short-run effort was put out by three high school kids who were in on the
whole comic book fanboy game (Barry Siegel, Bruce Simon and Steve
Finkelstein) and this trio really knew their potatoes as far as what was
hot and not and worthy of their time and moolah when they hit the comic
book rack. The fact that they were teenbos and had that sorta
aw-shucks attitude towards their hobby that reflected well with their
resultant spew as well. MEANING: there may have been a slight tad of
"immaturity" that seeped into these guys' writing and artwork but it all
came out well in the end. In fact it may have been totally
INTENTIONAL as
much of my own writing has been even if you dolts who "know more about me
than I do myself" would dare to say otherwise.
By this fourth issue the mag had gone from mimeo to actual golly gee
offset and the innards have, shall we say, "matured" somewhat. Artwork has
improved as well but sheesh, I sure liked the just post-pubesprout
attitude of their earlier mags which really exuded the addled joy of being
a high school kid who ate these comics up and wanted to tell off the world via
satire. They might not have had the right chops to put out an effort along
the lines of
FANTASY ILLUSTRATED, but they sure were a joy to read in that teenbo muddled brain sorta fashion.
The fun and jamz of the earlier 'un's just
don't pop up here, and sad to say the stories aren't as adolescent funny
in a cheap way like they used to be. The guys have (obviously enough
considering the guest appearance of Mr. Natural) discovered the
underground comix and sorry to say their attempts at the kind of humor
that the biggies in the field pretty much fall flat.
Like just about
EVERY OTHER COMIC BOOK FANZINE OF THE FIFTIES, SIXTIES AND SEVENTIES the Comics Code once again comes under scrutiny. Actually it is
somewhat tiresome to stroll through these magazines and read anti-Wertham
diatribes over and over (I mean, it would have been a
REFRESHING CHANGE if one of 'em had
a PRO-Wertham editorial/story/cartoon just to add some spice to the
entire comics fanzine concept!) but this issue's tirade against the Comics
Code Authority just doesn't cut the old jugular. Not that many of these
did but chee, I liked the 'un in an earlier issue where Casper the
Friendly Ghost dissolves into nada after it is logically explained to him
that them Harvey Comics characters aren't exactly conduit to the spirit of
The Code what with ghosts, witches and demons. How Sabrina the
Teenage Witch and her aunts made it past their watchful eye I'll never
know unless those stories about how John Goldwater (in a craven attempt to
shut down arch-rival EC) and the CCA really were working hand in hand like
the rumors goin' 'round were sayin'!
The anti-CCA story here sadly enough just limps on and comes to the same
conclusion that every other story on the Code in every other fanmag of the
day saying nothing new (not that this matters), doing so in the same
fashion that has been done ever since the advent of
SEDUCTION OF THE INNOCENT and the general appearance of comic
book-related fanzines from around the very same time. Too bad, although to
be fairer than fair I will admit that the story on EC (not exactly a
rarity in comic fandom) did has sort of a nice "nostalgic" ting to it as
did many of the others, but otherwise I was let down more than a pair of
NATIONAL GEORGAPHIC boobs!
FARCE OF FANDOM, despite the romp into more adult art and mindsets, was a nice try
and the artwork, layout and print job were excellent, but I sure miss the
ranch house suburban slob doofness of the earlier ones. Wonder just how far these cartoons satirists made it either in or out of the world of fandom because yeah, they just might have made it somewhat either as editors of more serious fanzine efforts or even as underground cartoon types ifyaknowaddamean...
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