BLOG TO COMM

TIME FOR YET ANOTHER FANZINE FANABLA!!!

The fanzine pickin's 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 existenc 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!

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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.

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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!

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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.

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 despite what the man has written above (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 NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC (the pearl diver issues) you betcha!

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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 Undertground 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.

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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!

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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. 

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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!

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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!

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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!

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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 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...