MAIL

MAIL

Dear CREEM:

I’m from Detroit, moved to Seattle a year ago last spring and got a job as a mailcarrier. While working this week, sorting mail to be sent to Alaska, I ran into CREEM with R. Crumb’s cover and remembered some of you guys. Please send a year’s sub.

Love,

A.B. Dettke

Seattle Wash.

Dear CREEM:

A bit of sisterly/brotherly criticism on the Midnight Raiders piece. First off, though it’s far out to know that other folks are dreaming and scheming about a revoltuionary musicians’ guerilla force. Sometimes, I can get feeling pretty lonely, thinkin’ that there aren’t other people around who share my dreams.

But hey, the pictures that the “Shadow” paints are a bit off key and a bit to “manly.” The vision of the cool and heavy guerillas scare the shit out of me. They, come across much too like groovy revolutionary superstars, with guns instead of axes. They’re mystical revolutionaries; cold as steel and with the determination of iron. The scene of their camp reminds me too much of scenes I’ve been involved with in the oppressive music world, I have a hard time visualizing women in any kind of leading role at their camp: just like in the rock scene. The images of Dylan and the other folks -+ I just can’t imagine them being anything but uptight about my gayness: just like in the rock scene.

When the time comes that an army of guerilla musicians does exist (and I hope that day isn’t too far off) I just pray that it doesn’t bring with it all the oppressive attitudes and machismo of the “Man’s Army.” ’Cause unless we fight as new people, we might as well go back to doing over-priced gigs and selling overpriced. And shit we’d lose anyway.

An Army of Lovers Cannot Lose

Each Chord a Weapon, Each Note a Bullet

In the Oppressor’s Ear

Gay love and revolution,

Marcus

Boston, Mass.

Dear CREEM:

Please send me a one year subscription. I thoroughly enjoy your magazine — where have you been all my life?

Carrington Montague

Lookout Mtn., Tenn.

Dear CREEM:

Who are Slade? Slade is “just a buncha skinheads from London”, once called Ambrose Slade, who had an album out on Mercury called Ballsy, which was mostly a bunch of covers of other stuff, not so hot, but then they metamorphosed into Slade and

“Get Down” was big stuff when I was in England this summer, blasting from sunset rooftop to basement, smokefilled flat in late August, almost as much as “Get It On.” The other thing is about a band I hooked up with while in London called the . Pink Fairies, who as far as I’m concerned are the only real, authentic, functioning loud, violent and arrogantly assured band left in that desolate burg, which has become a rip since decimalisation revalued the pence and upped it’s unit value by 1.4 times, approx. Really (shock) but London is just as expensive as mid-Manhattan now. Anyway, the Fairies have a single out on Polydor called “The Snake” b/w “Do It,” and the album is called Never Never Land. Dig Black’s opening guitar work on “Snake,” which is faster than (or as, so pick a good simile). Also a former member of the group is Twink, late of the Pretty Things, but a few weeks before I knew them, he vanished, leaving no word of his whereabouts.

Wheeler Dixon

Highland Park NJ

THE DEAD: EVERYTHING BUT YOUR OWN TRIP

Dear CREEM:

Could I please address this to Lester Bangs? I thought that most of your specific review of the new live Dead album was accurate, but the perspective in which you place it as compared to the other Dead albums and live performances you have experienced is confusing and, for you, quite unfortunate. I won’t claim that you are a fool; you know what you like. But may I suggest that your observations of the Dead as “unadventurous” at a concert and as personifying “self-conscious hipness” lack a sense of adventure on your part. The Dead are as spaced out, even on “Bobby McGee”, as you let yourself get, because they supply everything except your own trip. Dig Live/Dead in its'entirety sometime. Take off all your clothes. Dance maybe, or whatever happens, let it.

The Dead sure aren’t self-conscious, but like some incredible other things in life, they can allow you to feel self-conscious about yourself. It’s not their fault. In danger of seeming to exclude them from criticism, I suggest that if you don’t dig Anthem of the Sun or Live/Dead. or their freaky attitude not only is it your loss but also your fault, not theirs. If you don’t dig their songs from this standpoint or that, O.K. I wish you wouldn’t be, I don’t know, uptight about them.

I think Live/Dead is the best album ever made, although there are too many almost to even consider. I don’t at all think Grateful Dead is the best, or even near it. But it is the Dead. More than any vague “commodity” or plastic “social movement.” Five, once six, once seven of the most unreal musicians on earth, who are tight. Not “slipshod” which is negative, freaky, natural. If you don’t like songs leading into and being part of each under a bigger, larger thing that hasn’t received you yet, try digging it as a whole. The Dead have a very identifiable and distinct feeling you reject hastily. Relax. Thank you very much.

Chip Hartranft

Morristown, N.J,

Dear CREEM:

As you, I’m sure, are already aware we’re still out here in Bosstown living in the past in Michigan.. It’s fun, y’know, to read all those, impressive people’s names in CREEM. I mean, Lester Bangs good god awmighty y’know, and Dave-I was a teen-age dwarf-Marsh, one of the all-time brilliant writers. You guys must be pretty something that’s all I can say. But that’s not all I can say. I can say that CREEM had developed from being one of the (what is this “one of’ shit?) finest papers, ahem magazines that there should be into being just the stone muthah of a'periodical. (Only your inaccurate release dates prevent me from calling it a monthly/weekly, etc.)

It was fine to use Mr. Crumb’s cover again and glory be what an excellent coloring job, really fine (or is that “fahn?”).

It’s gone through a lot of things and stuff to get there, but you finally got what you wanted and what we (the collective masses’ asses) want — someone to know. Not just to guess (Grawdaddy/) or suppose (Rock) and especially not to presume (Rolling whatever) but to know. Still make mistakes y’know and not be always right but just to know, without presuming to know, vaguely where a lot of things are. Kinda like if you wanted to know where to find the name of Hopalong Cassidy’s horse, you would look in CREEM. (You could look at the inner sleeve of the new Don McLean album where it’ll tell you that Hoppy’s horse might have been called Topper.) CREEM has a higher relativity factor that most other musical jack-offs. It’s human, fuck ups not only taken into account but even made room for and exploited. Images of CREEM in journalism fulfilling the same role that Zappa does in rock (without the “and roll” or “ ‘n’ roll” depending on how ethnic you’re not.) I have on occasion, wanted to call the co-creemers and say “heyluya” just so you’d know that there are people out here that care, that really care and somehow CREEM can talk to us on a level that we can live and deal with. In an emergency such as that with which we are constantly oppressed, it is comforting to note that CREEM can still get it up and in and off and that, my friends, is the name of the game.

Well played, Creemers.

Tony Reay and Jeep Holland

Somerville Mass.

(About this letter. Our inaccurate release dates are very accurate, if you ’re in the magazine biz. (Are we? Tune in next month.) See, it gives the sales people an idea when it should come off the stands. Like this one comes off in February. Which means they sell it in January.

Now then, the Teenage Dwarf also says that Topper was indeed the name of Hoppy’s horse, because he met it once. (No he didn’t kiss it though he is now sorry he passed up such a fine opportunity. He would today.)

As for these dementos are: Jeep Holland used to run a record store in Ann Arbor. Then he started managing a band called the Rationals and in the process of booking them, started working with a lot of bands, and ended up with A-Square Productions, which made A-Square Records, which had a hit with “Respect” (by the Rationals) which is where Aretha heard it. So Jeep got to book everybody, including the Who (first time in the States), Jimi Hendrix (a couple days before Monterey) and innumerable others at the Mystic Knights of the Grande Lodge.

Tony, on the other hand, stowed away in a banana boat — which was empty since it was leaving Britain at the time — decided he didn’t like the Bahamas and moved to Detroit. And then he and a few other creeps started a rock paper there, which, Toriy insisted on naming for his favorite guitarists’ latest group, only someone was smart enough to juggle the spelling. And then drifted off a few months later, and has been doing the same sort of thing hither and yon around the universe. A true paranormal.

Now, go back and read the letter again. See if it makes more sense. If it does, give us a call. — The Eds.)

Dear CREEM:

South Dakota does not have any better bands than the Frut.

Come on Clap your hands Come on in the stands Come on gonna drop the bomb Come on, this is Black to Comm

Rick Ripoff Ypsilanti, MI.

Continued on page 80.

maiL

Continued from page 10.

DearCREEM:

I must disagree with Robbie Cruger about the two Joy of Cooking albums. The first one is definitely in my all-time top five best albums, just behind the GTOs’ Permanent Damage. But Closer to the Ground is really blah. All the excitement and movement of the first album is gone.

Unfortunately, I’ve never seen J of C although I can’t blame them for not coming out to this dump. When SRC played in Richmond last year they were asked how a Detroit group got to Richmond and they answered, “Just bad luck.” Maybe after seeing J of C perform some of the songs in person, I would then appreciate the album.

Just another small thing: on page 12, Northwestern University is referred to as being in Evansville. Actually, Northwestern is in Evenston, Ill. There is a college called Evansville in southern Indiana, which is noted for excellence in basketball and produced Jerry Sloan, my idol, guard on the Chicago Bulls.

Dave Newburger

Richmond Va.

DearCREEM:

I gotta issue a retraction* pertaining to my review of the Cody album, and to the fact that I badmouthed “Seeds and Stems.” I don’t know why I didn’t like it when I wrote the review, but in the weeks since I’ve come to feel worse and worse about haying put down such an obviously fine song. I still don’t like “Travelin’ Man” much, but “Seeds and Stems” is real good. Sorry boys.

Mike Goodwin

San Francisco, Ca.

DearCREEM:

I have just finished reading Dave Marsh’s article in your December issue and I have a few comments.

First of all, if he objects to the constant put-downs of Grand Funk Railroad, he should by all means say so, but to put down another artist in the same breath is absurd. If Frank Zappa’s “terrible jokes” are offensive to him, maybe Frank Zappa is talking about him (“Plastic People,” “Who Needs the Peace Corps?,” “Flower Punk”). His idea (as well as most other music reporters’ idea) of comparing groups, songs, artists, etc. is also completely ludicrous. Lately, I have cbme to the realization that comparing talent (“Hey who do you think is better. . . ?”) is stupid, because as long as a group of artists bring satisfaction to the listener, the artists have passed the grade and criticism doesn’t matter. (In other words, music is only as good as the listener wants it to be.)

The next is my reaction to your.magazine as a whole.

Way back in seventh grade (I’m now in tenth) when all I listened to was the Iron Butterfly (I thought they were cool) and was getting all hepped, hyped, jived and hit in the face with “flower power,” I had a constant need for a “hippie” magazine (I have since stopped purchasing them) like some of your competitors. I only first read CREEM about a year ago when you had an article on Captain Beefheart. I found then, as I still do now, that out of all of the papers that cater to a “rock” audience, yours is probably one of the finer ones (except for a few others, my two favorites having the initials JP and db). My only complaint, however, is that I would really like seeing more articles and coverage on jazz. Also, a service that would be nice is if you could put out a series on different types of music other than rock, like classical, avantgarde classical (Stockhausen, Kagel, Cage), etc. I feel that many of your readers would like to “broaden their musical horizons.”

In closing, I would like to quote the late Albert Ayler in saying that “Music is the healing force of the universe.” Keep it alive.

Thank you for your time,

Stephen Friedman

New York, NY

P.S. While writing this letter, I listened to Ornette Coleman, Karlheinz Stockhausen, John Coltrane, Dave Burrell and Burton Greene, if it matters.

Dear CREEM:

We in New Paltz have known it for a long time and I think it’s time for the world to know. Two weeks after Aoxomoxa came out the Grateful Dead died in a plane crash. (Yes, Virginia, the Dead are dead.)

At the same time, Warner Bros, was signing a group called Calypso Joe and the Sparrows. Through a freak accident, Warner Bros, found that when Calypso Joe’s records were slowed down to 16 r.p.m. they sounded just like the Grateful Dead doing a new type of sound. A brainstorm hit Warner Bros: they could still make money on the Grateful Dead. They then released old tapes (Live Dead), to keep up the illusion that the Dead are alive, and then Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty.

Now Workingman’s Dead and American Beauty Axe really Calypso Joe and his group, the Sparrows, and those records should be played at 16 r.p.m. or 78 r.p.m., depending on the cut. Credit should be given where credit is due and Calypso Joe deserves it.

By the way the new live Grateful Dead album is really a bunch of high school kids getting it on.

Rock on,

Andy Shernoff

New Paltz, NY

Dear CREEM:

Your October 1971 issue of CREEM was great especially ’cause of the Beach Boys article!

Their Sunflower album was great but Surf’s Up is fantastic! Right on Beach Boys!

Rosy Novak

Deford MI.

Dear CREEM:

I really dig your rag but the price is fucked, it reminds me of Rolling Stone which I think is one of the biggest rip off rags I ever seen. But your rag is worth the 60$.

Just a note to everybody to watch out who you buy your dope from. I trusted this dude and he ripped me off with a lot of rat poison. It really fucked me over. I caught him and fucked him up.

Keep trying to get peace and keep writing things like Grand Funk and Black Sabbath.

Here’s a poem I wrote, what do you think of it?

(THE WAR)

When we got in this war,

We thought there was a reason

But now this war is a bit out of season

My brother went there and got down on the skag

His buddy got down with a chick on the rag

Brothers move out like a big land rover

While Uncle Sam’s ass is rolling in clover

Canada ain’t such a bad place

When you think of your chance of getting shot in the face

What the fuck’s wrong with the whole human race?

Your brother,

Kraig McClusky

Detroit, MI.

Dear CREEM:

Nick Tosches: I won’t forgive you but you don’t have to worry because the guy who really matters surely will.

Ambanego

(No Address)