Dear CREEM:

Only my lousy letters get printed. This one’s lousy, too, so print it.

John Gregory S.Glen Falls, N.Y.

(O.K.-Ed.)

Dear CREEM:

Tell Lester he’s cool, and I really dug his article on the Godz, even though I don’t even know who they are.

Jackie Rosen Chicago, Ill.

Dear CREEM:

I’m sittin here this afternoon really into Rolling Stones Now! and watchin’ Tony readin March CREEM.

The following technical suggestion occured to me (emerging from an electric powered cold winter sunset): why not use the clean type face you use for headings (see table of contents) for everything? Those decorative trimmings hanging off the letters slow down unnecessarily your already rapid communication linkage to my head.

Jay East Lansing, MI.

Dear CREEM:

Wazza deal? In your March,,’72 issue, on page 28, you printed a photo of Allen Ginsberg (who?) but did not print MY MAN FROM ALICE COOPER’S NAME!!

ELP me, Shel Pontiac Mi.

(Because that ain’t the guy from Alice Cooper. It just looks like him. —Ed.)

ANOTHER GUESS ABOUT ROCK-A-RAMA

Dear CREEM:

ROCK-A-RAMA Ed Ward (CREEM Vol. 3, No. 10):: Ed Ward is still writing Rock-ARama. The reason you can tell is that none of the other columns reviews the same records as this one. Thanks Ed.

Chuck Face Bardolph, Ill.

Dear CREEM:

I’ve been reading CREEM now for a few months (it suddenly appeared) and I think you have a pretty good thing going. I must admit that I’m amused with your infatuation with the tasteless raunch music out of Detroit (though sometimes it is amusing)!

I usually find your record revies interesting (special thanks to Ed. Ward for his fine review of Fearless by Family), but why not just forget ROCK-A-RAMA? ANNETTE PEACKOCK: Sominex? SOFT MACHINE: Novacaine rock? Surely you jest! Somehow I get the impression that Lester “Mr. Raunch” Bangs doss this feature.

I’d like to lend my support to “Peter of Jersey City N. J.” as he awaits crucifixion from Stones’ freaks. I agree with you whole heartedly. With groups like King Crimson, The Move, Soft Machine, John McLaughlin, Mick Abrahams and Van Der Graaf Generator around, it’s a wonder that anyone listens to the Stones or the Detroit Raunch at all.

Raunch off, Peter Bloomingdale, NJ.

(Dangerous as it might be to admit it, we don’t know who writes ROCK-A-RAMA. Once a month sometimes more, sometimes less, often we get a package in the mail, with a threatening note. We’re never challenged it, being as essentially cowardly as we are high energy, and of course, welcome any advice on how to deal with the R-A-R problem. Thanks -Ed.) ;

Dear CREEM:

Stu Werbin did one outstanding layout on “Elvis and the A-Bomb,” in your March issue. Not even an Elvis fan, I found it the best article in any CREEM thus far.

One slip-up, though ... Stu (or the computer) should have his shit together a little more than to state (on page 13) that Elvis has 24 gold records.

Who’s misprinting who? You’re talkin’ about Elvis fuckin’ Presley, man! Elvis fuckin’ Presley!! ... Not 24,54!

Give the devil his due ... a lotta people remember what you dudes print.

24 my ass. Sincerely, Preston Crews Minneapolis, Minn.

(So, maybe he meant 24 albums? — Ed.)

BEATLE BOO BOO

Dear CREEM:

Yes it was someone’s idea of a nasty joke: the first UNICEF Concert by any ex-Beatle (lucrative or otherwise) was in London 1968 Lyceum Ballroom, where George and many others appeared by me and Yoko’s request -so why should we start following George at our age! tut! tut! (The result of that session is a “freeby’ live jam album which ya get with our new Album Sometime In New York City!) Plug! — plug! — so there ...

Love and Peace, John & Yoko New York N.Y.

Dear CREEM:

If it’s hard to deal with what upsets me about Greil Marcus’ review of Taj Mahal, maybe it’s because I can see myself and a lot of other hopefully hip people slipping into the same — attitude, without realizing it’s been taken one or two steps too far. How can you say a black man “toms” or call him “the house nigger of rock and roll” and later add that no insult or attack is intended? Aren’t these descriptions more degrading today than any simple racial slur, especially when they come from the side of the supposedly politically enlightened? And aren’t they somewhat suspect coming from a white man? That doesn’t mean whites have no right to make their own decisions about black roles, especially as they concern white society, but to presume to pass judgment so harsh as Marcus’ is presuming too much. Politically, are there only certain types of blacks and certain types of black music that are correct? And what relevance does a political decision have to the music? I think we would all rather hear Taj Mahal than Elaine Brown doing her Seize the Time business — is this a symptom of our unconscious racism? Fuck no. Taj is as real as he wants to be; he is not imitating anybody; his music is his life and his involvement in it makes it real - just as Janis Joplin’s feeling for “black music” made it as real for her as it could be, attacks from black critics aside. Are the Jackson 5 tomming because they give, white audiences a cutesy view of young black boys? Oh come on. Is the situation different when Taj performs for a mostly black audience? Do they think he’s somebody’s house nigger? Greil has a right to his opinion obviously — maybe there are some people who find comfort in Taj Mahal although it would seem to be reaching pretty far for reassurance of one’s fantasy stereotype — but I still think he owes Taj an apology.

Vince Aletti New York, N.Y.

Dear CREEM:

How come you’ve never* mentioned the Long Island Rock scene (except for occasional mention of the Rascals or the Vagrants from many moons ago)? We do have the Metropolitan Review, you know, and we used to have Action World, with Aaron soul freak and the rock and roll freak LaLumia and all the underground papers that come and go. How come you ignore us, CREEM?

Mark Saperstein Selden, New York

Dear CREEM:

The Good Rats were rumored to have a second album, but it’s never been seen. The first one wasn’t all that hot, except for one song, “We Are the Good Rats,” anyway. Viv Stanshall’s “Labio-Dental Fricative’ was in print on Liberty less than two months, and is impossible to get except possibly through the singles dealers I mentioned in Juke Box Jury a few months back. But it is still in print in England on Liberty, and he has another, Suspicion”/“Blind Date” (Fly BUG-4) that wasn’t issued here at all. John Smothers (and Lester Bangs, too) might be interested to learn that Nigel Waymouth and Michael English, otherwise known, as Hapshash and the Coloured Coat, started out as poster artists in 1967 and are credited with introducing San Franciso-style psychedelic lettering and the use of day-glo colors to the London underground. This and countless other fascinating morsels of information can be found in a book called Revolt Into Style by George Melly (Anchor) which throws more' light* on the history of rock and roll and youth pop culture than all the more celebrated books on the subject put together.

And finally, you can tell that punk Mike Saunders to wipe the smirk off his face. He may be 19 now, but he’ll be 25 soon enough. As a matter of fact, I’ve noticed a bright young contingent of 13-16 yr. old rock critics appearing on the scene of late, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see Mike himself written off as over-the-hill anyday now. Well, I’d better go guzzle some Geritol if I expect to see my 24 th birthday.

Power to the Pimple Greg Shaw Fairfax, CA.

Dear CREEM:

The movie Black Sabbath is Italian not' British. It was directed by Mario Bana in ’63 under the title / Tre Void Della Paura (Three Faces of Terror). Bavia also directed the fantastic Black Sunday.

And by the way, Brian Capers by Mott the Hoople is even better than you thought.

Mike Weldon Lakewood Ohio

YOU WRITE IT WE'LL PRINT IT

Dear CREEM:

,Like, we people in Detroit really dig your magazine. You don’t write so good like Fusion, but you got the beat, the Big One. Under that beat is something heavier than all the fag shit in Fusion. Like, I really love the Blue Oyster Cult, Bob Seger and Brownsville Station and all those other high energy groups ... they got vitality like life and death trips, and they don’t fool around. Kinda existential, to quote my sister. Real as a pig s club or switchblades or decisions and all those other immediate street scenes. Thanks for having a mag we non-intellectual intellectuals can latch onto, cause I can dig it. I guess I’m too smart for Funk and Sabbath, ‘cause they give me a sore head when I listen to ‘em, but beat it on down the line anyway, from Led Zeppelin, to Sun Ra. Electricity to your skull,

The White Stone Flash Detroit Mi.

Dear CREEM:

Congratulations to Vince Aletti for Tighten Up (May). A brilliantly honest piece. It sort of helped me sort out what I’d been thinkin’ all this time and the scenes other peoi pie were into. I write and sing quite a bit and I come up against the same problem he was talking about and what it really comes down to is people understand what they want to in the writing. It’s all a matter of what they’d like to see. My four finest love poems are an expression of my bisexuality — two for girls, and two for guys. But when I show them to people they all go, “Oh you must love him (I happen to be female) very much.” And they are turned off when I sing them about malefemale groupie scenes and wonder what’s the matter with me. It also sort of explained to me, in the example of the young man who went and talked to the ‘faggots’ in the room, the kind of stupid thing I sometimes do. I admit it, my head’s fucked up — but I had never understood what I was doing until I read that piece (A flash of thunder, a rainstorm). Anyways, I like the style he writes in — tight but not journalistic. I happened to pick up your magazine because I saw my favorite Electric Warrior was on it, however you did a really nice bit on Terry Garthwaite who has gotten little recognition and the reviews are intelligible, which is more than I can say for most rock magazines.

Jeepster Miami Beach, Fla.

Dear CREEM:

Re: Lester Bangs’ Crabby Appleton article (Feb.):

I hadn’t heard anything by them but “Peace by Peace” off the big Elektra sampler, and that I dug, but I had read a lot, and the consensus seemed to be that this was a kickass rock & roll band! So, when J heard they’d be in town one night not so long ago, I immediately made plans to get my girl and go dance my ass off. But wait, before their performance, they did an interview on our local FM radio. There they proceeded to cut down everyone — Brownsville Station, The Beach Boys and Chuck Berry. Yes Chuck Berry!

Who in the fuck are these guys? Well, I went anyway and saw these ego trippers play the most lifeless, listless set I’ve ever had the unfortunate experience to sit through. SIT THROUGH! It was the very first time at this club not one couple got up to dance. Crabby couldn’t even motivate that much reaction. Everybody just sat over their drink and kind of waited/hoped the band would get something going. But it just never happened. I overheard the drummer, Phil Jones (?), in the john say, “Where is everybody, why aren’t they gettin’ it on, what kind of town is this, anyway?” All I can say is fuck Crabby Appleton. And they don’t even like Chuck Berry! C’mon Lester!

Continued on page 79.

Sincerely, Don Little wood Milwaukee Wise.

CULT DON'T STINK

Dear CREEM:

This is in response to a letter sent to you by a guy named Andy. The letter, in simple words, said that he thought Blue Oyster Cult stunk. Now, I ask you, who does this guy think he is, downgrading a fantastic group? Blue Oyster Cult may very well be the U.S. answer to Zeppelin and Sabbath. I have seen Funk, Zeppelin and Sabbath but B.O.C.’s show was better than all of them. The Cult are also great instrumentally, especially Buck Dharma on guitar. Which contradicts the letter Andy sent you. And, CREEM, I must agree with you, these guys are very good. Please give Richard Meltzer my thanks for backing such a great group.

Marph on Blue Oyster Cult Robert S. Falk Careret N.J. 1

Dear CREEM:

Never wrote to a magazine before, but after your coverage of Charlie Rich in your April issue, I had to write to say, thank you.

It is about time some one gave this man some coverage. He deserves every word anyone can possibly print on him. He is truly a genius. No one can handle a song like this man.

Just got through writing Epic, and I blasted their asses for' the lack of publicity and distribution,.tim man gets (or doesn’t get as the case may be). I doubt if anyone will ever read it, but it was worth a try. Hell! Ever try to buy a Charlie Rich record in the Boston area — no way — if you’re lucky you might find the “Mohair Sam” lp in a supermarket for 50c.

Thanks again, Michael Duchemin Haverhill, Mass.

CHICKEN SALAD AN' DE BLOOZE

Dear CREEM:

Sometimes w,hile reading your magazine, I get the idea that people up in your part of Michigan pride themselves in being a part of the Home of High Energy. Yeah, they’ve read so many Zap comic books and listened to the MC5 so often that they’ve got the idea that they’re natural born, hard-as-nails, badass, Boogie Chillun. I guess your magazine would be considered the voice of these Hard Rockers, so here goes.

In one of your recent issues of CREEM, I see you mentioned Bonnie Raitt’s album twice. Are you going to hype her up as the New Queen of the Blues? Well, if you want to, go ahead, it’s your magazine. But sometime pick up an album by Hound Dog Taylor and the Houserockers. This fifty six year old man has been known to Boogie for three hours non-stop. And his second guitarist, Brewer Phillips, can take on any white cat that tries to play the blooze, in the old United States and shoot ’em through the breeze. If you don’t believe me, and this goes for year readers too, just come down to Chicago, look me up, we’ll eat some of my wife’s world-famous chicken salad sandwiches and go out and let Hound Dog take us back to Greenwood Mississippi.

Wes “Let’s Go Get Drunk

and Be Somebody” Race

Chicago, Ill.

Dear CREEM:

Who is the slimy cunt who repeatedly makes personal attacks on me in the columns of your so-called “Rock & Roll News” pages? What’s the matter — got a problem with your prostate gland or something? If I see your stupid fucking face next time I come to Detroit, I’ll shit all over it (your face that is).

However, I will own up that certain articles appearing in your pages do make for interesting reading, even if they’re sometimes patronizing or arse-licking!

Long John Baldry Boston Mass.

(It was Jonh Ingham, I think... -Ed.)

Dear CREEM:

I kind of liked the spirit behind your article. But you didn’t really listen to the words of “Tracks of My Tears” - did you? How could a man with a voice like that demean himself to sing “oh-only” one?

“Although she may be cute she’s just a substitute/ Because you’re the permanent one ...”

Yes indeed.

Good luck, Mr. Robinson - and many more miracles.

A Fan Los Angeles Ca.

UNZIPPING FOR THE ZEP

Dear CREEM:

Re: your review of Led Zeppelin’s fourth.

It was well said, but alas, where were the pictures? Planty makes me drop my drawers and they haven’t been down for such an agonizingly long time. If you’re so hard up for photos, when they return here, I’ll go up to the hotel with a camera, this time, and get some for you. Free! Thanks, you’re really quite dodgy.

Raunchy Roberta Plante Brooklyn, NY

(Be our guest... Ed.)

ALLMAN'S ALL RIGHT

Dear CREEM:

Your review of the Allman Brothers’ Eat a Peach stunk so loud my cat wouldn’t even shit on it. All of the Allman Bros, albums are a work of art and Live at the Fillmore is a fucking classic. As to your asinine talk on Duane’s death, he played the meanest slide guitar you’ll ever hear. I also have a hell of an obsession with their music. I had accidentally picked up your magazine (?); after your review I know damn well not to do it again.

John Daniel Ft. Walton, Fla.

Dear CREEM:

Re: Dave Marsh’s T. Rex article (May):

I can forgive your preposterous criticism and orkish explanations (?) of something that you obviously cannot understand; it’s a common enough error.

But ... and here allow me to declare I am no T.Rex dissident — may they bop unto eternity, and I shall bop with them — but the next time you presume to declare that a song “needs more electricity” (bosh) have the forbearance and the decency to get the title right.

“Cat Black the Wizard’s Hat.” Deborah Rowland Sourfield Mi.

(Our proofreaders are gonna get us all killedEd.)

Dear CREEM:

I just grabbed a copy of “The Rockin’ Mole” by Instant Ralston off the shelf and .Greg Shaw is right! The record bowled-me over — if just for the fact that a group could make a record so flaky, so sloppily purina soggy era full to the brim of comball pretension and crisp professionalism. The band’s got their punk-rock trix down,' all right; the tune snaps, crackles, and in general mills about in a fashion bordering on the cerealistic (or postceralistic). This tasty spoonful of riboflavin’ blues provides more honest-to-god kix than most big hits by famous name brans, and should breakfast and strong on the charts, ensuring a big boost in the group’s royalty chex. Try Instant Ralston today; it’s guaranteed to make you feel your oats. Wheateenagers love it; no raisin you shouldn’t too.

Chester Drawers Cupertino, Ca.