MAIL

MAIL

Please send letters to:

MAIL Dept., CREEM Magazine P.O. Box P-1064, Birmingham, MI 48012

DEAR CREEM

It’s ta the point where my copy of RAW POWER is b’ginning to smell like raw snapper. Used it so many times, ya know. And each time, I’d look up after it wuz over, and the big spirit of L.Bangs in the sky would nod his approval. Gosh, rock and roll is the life, ya know. I’ve been saying it ever since a determinately decadent, femme fatale sent me a glittered DeKalb flying corn cob for X-Mas. After the absurdity absorbed like tannic acid into my left arm, she came and visited. We listened to Iggy a lot, finished several bottles of Pink Chablis, laughed evilly, and read CREEM while waiting for the other to get up. We’d laugh with Lester. We’d' laugh with Meltzer. We’d laugh at the poor heartbroken wimpoids that wrote care of the Mail page. And we laughed and drank and listened to Iggy a lot, and thought, wow, isn’t it great being sensitive punks wid a heart of grits.

Sleaze on,

BJACF 1

Big Jas. Alley Cat Fuller

Hitzville, U.S.A.

MAHAVE IT YOUR WAY

I have just finished reading the March issue of CREEM and I have come to the conculsion that your writers (Ha! Ha!) have no musical knowledge whatsoever. I was mostly disturbed with the Record Reviews, in particular the review of Between Nothingness and Eternity. It seems as though you, or whom ever wrote this review, could listen to an LP consisting of 36 minutes of farting and find it refreshingly different, but when the Mahavishnu Orchestra displays its musical genius you call it boring and monotonous. It seems as though all of your taste is in your mouth, and maybe for a change you should listen to the music before you review the record. I see no hope, though, I doubt if you’ll change. I guess I’ll have to stop buying these cheap magai zines.

Respectfully yours,

C.J. Alpaugh

Jamestown, N.Y.

(How about 30 minutes of electronic guitar belches and wahwah wheezes? - Ed.)

AIN'T IT THE TRUTH

It seems that every five minutes there is a record released by some aged rock group or a solo album by one of its senior citizens.' You know who I am talking about.

I will be casually browsing through the record department at K-Mart when my eyes focus on a new album by some old goat and I say to myself, “Well, I used to like them soooo much, I’ll take a chance and buy this instead of the New York Dolls or something.”

I rush home, tear off the cellophane, put the album on the turntable and hold my breath. Thirty seconds into the first song -it’s a drag — so I get up and set the arm down on the second song — another bummer. I keep skipping around in vain hoping that I’ll come across some good stuffi These records are usually about as exciting as the Methodist Church services you hear on the radios Sundays. K-Mart won’t let me exchange the album and I am stuck with it -Mplus about fifty more like it (I just keep hoping).

The very sight of these records make me depressed, so I hit upon a great idea of what to do with these travesties — DESTROY THEM! Fling them into the air and watch as they gracefully glide toward the pavement. Invite your friends over and see who can hit£ record the farthest with a golf club. Set ’em up in the back yard, get out your twenty-two or shotgun and let the old bastards wild took $4.29 or more of your hard-earned allowance, have it right between the eyes. Smash them into itty-bitty (teeny-weeny) pieces and mail them C.O.D. to the person who recorded them. You won’t get your money back but you will feel a little better.

Yours truly,

A Rock ’N’ Roll Junkie

Birmingham, Alabama

P.S. CREEM is better thjjn Rolling Stone.

QUESTIONS OF A THOUSAND DREAMS C’mon now, who in the hell are Matt the Hoopel, Mott the Hoople, Matt the Hopple, Moot the Hoople, Martha Hoople and Mother Hoople for Christ’s sake. It’s Mott the Hoople

— Mott the hoople - Mott the Hoople. Spell it a zillion times, hitting yourself with a hammer each time. By the way, who are Mott the Hoople?

M.B. Pfeistenbergerhenrich

& Horatio H. Hosselfinger III

Farquahr, R.I.

P.S. Fally Allen has been walking around with his thumb up his ass for 14 months. Says he’s looking for soft ground. That’s a record man!

(Mott the Hoople are not Benny and the Jets.

Ed.)

MAN BITES GOD

Dear Lester Bangs (the hell out of his typewriter)::

Well all you monkeys think Iggy Pop is the latest Rock-n-roll Go.d send. Well I just scarffed up myself a copy of the MC5 — Back in the U.S.A. I may be five years late but I’m not wrong.

The New York Dolls are a bunch of Johnny come Latelys and Iggy Pop may grow hair on your palms but he doesn’t “GET IT ON.” Put that in your pipe and smoke it, snort it, or whatever!

Jesse Winchester

(just come sotith)

P.S. Why do you like Carole King?

(Mr. Winchester is an exile/genius songster of some legend. Carole was good to us once and if you just discovered the Five you’re a Johnny-come-lately. — Ed.)

THEORUM

I have a theory. Could “Lady Day” off Lou’s Berlin album possibly have been written for Billie Holiday? Everything fits. People often refer to her as “Lady Day” and the story of the song fits the story of her life and she was a drug freak which is after all, what the album’s about.

Lovingly. devoted Lou and Billie and Velvet fan,

Susan Farndell

Montreal, Que.

(Keep thinking, that’s what you’re good at. — Ed.)

ZIP CODE

Me and Cole were sittin* here in the Burger Chef watchin this ol fly land on the ceiling and 1 got a question. Why a fly is gonna land on the ceiling does he do a side role or a back flip to get upside down? Cole says that the flys that hang around on ceilings all fly upside down. Well I don’t think that’s right but I’ve been really watching this ol fly and I can’t figure it out. Maybe you guys know more about this sort of thing.

Cisco and Cole

Swampend, Fla.

(Want a toot of No-Doz? - Ed.)

WHY ROCK STARS STAY FOREVER YOUNG

Becuz most all of them are always on tour and on tour neither you nor any of yr friends has to make yr bed or clean yr bathroom or vacuum yr carpet thats all taken care of & all the rooms which are always at a Holiday Inn are always the same so they might as well be one bedroom and that bedroom is the only place in the whole mess you can call yr own... so it’s JUST LIKE LIVING AT HOME.

Arrested teenageosis.

Love, Stella Rayon

Cleveland Hts., Ohio

LONELY AT THE TOP

As the leader of this country, I would like to say a few things about your magazine because I think you like me. After all, you never hurt my feelings like all the other magazines and newspapers do. Now, about your mag. Do you think it would be at all possible for me to be photographed with Lisa Robinson? Whenever I see her, I get all hot and itchy. Does this mean I’m not getting enough?

My wife Pat will never know it because I always hide my CREEM under my pillow. The only thing I let her read is Jack and Jill and once in a while TV Guide. By the way, she doesn’t even know about W. yet. HA! HA! HA! But don’t you tell her!! If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a person who cops out. Heck, that man named Leon Jaworski has been at me for a long time to give him some tapes. But will I cop out? Are you Republicans honest?!!?

I’ll be over for the photographers session at 7:30. Have a mattress or sofa ready in case I get hot and itchy. 1 will, there’s no doubt about it). I have to be home by 10:00 or Pat will be upset. When Pat gets upset, she sleeps on the sofa, which makes me hard-up. Darn! My Secretary’s already pregnant arid the maid is married. Well, there’s always that picture of Lisa under my pillow...

Keep those hands mobile,

Tricky Hands Nixon

White House,

Washington, D.C.

AQUA SHUCK

Dave Marsh: Hanging uptight here in Rivertown-Duckberg, having placed special orders for AQUA-SHOW at every disc jointcombo-pinball palladium in town - turns out after two months of waiting, evey shop breaks the news the Elliot Murphy ain’t available down south. One week later (yesterday), I’m rummaging through a throw-away bin at one of those shops and I come across two dj copies of that same unavailable record — and at two dollars, no less...

I get it home - I’ve got them old expectations roaring upstairs and guess what... they got doused.

I usually agree with most of what you have to say about a record, so when I read your two rave-ups of this one, I figured you spoke true.

How come you failed to mention the sounds-like-David Booty-vocals? Or the superinept harp (Christ and I thought Neil Young blew foul) — or the fact that “Hometown” is musically the same song as the Masked Marauders doing “Cow-Pie” (I mean the harp refrain is identical!) — huh? How come you never mentioned any of that???

But, the kid can play rock and roll guitar, and some of his words are nice. And “..last of the rock stars are you and me...” is a really good line. I just don’t hear any more than a token tribute to Dylan in his style — &

I don’t think this record would ever have been recorded had not Mott’s “All the Young Dudes,” Booty’s “Changes” album, or Lou Reed’s mass acceptance preceeded.

Oh yeah, another thing: compared to Elliot Murphy, Bruce Springsteen is Bob Dylan.

same to you,

John Wesley Orange Vicksburg, Bali

YESSUH BOSS

I was reading the January 74 issue. In Rock n Roll News I noticed you spoke of solo albums by Ye.s members Jon Anderson, Rick Wakeman, Chris Squire and ‘‘Rick” Howe’s can’t be far behind. Hey! Listen up! Who is this Rick Howe? Is he Steve's brother, uncle or friend or what? Also does he play guitar? Does he play with the Yes? Is his solo album far behind? Does Rick Howe exist as an entity? Boy oh boy have you guys gotten yourselves into a big mess.

Chris Bacas York, Penn.

(You're right, sorry for the error; actually it was Gordy Howe. — Ed.)

TURN TO PAGE 82.

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 10.

READING JAIL

Especially enjoyed the February CREEM. Martin Mull, your “Creemate of the Month,” is presently adorning the otherwise bare walls of my cell, and shall remain there ’till someone or other decides that it must come down.

I haven’t saved any of the issues due to the fact that they are passed around to about a dozen other inmates after I’m through with them... I’ve never been known to be a rabid “saver” anyway, but bless your collective arses for sending them here to Terre Haute Penitentiary! ]

I hope that soon I will again be able to $ee CREEM on the stands of free? Amerika, or at least, stop by your offices for a freebie!

Happy 1974. Miss you all.

Love,

. Larry Benjamin The Slams

FACES LIFTED

As someone else has no doubt pointed out to you by now, the picture on page 18 of your February issue, purported to be of Nico and Lou Reed, was miscaptioned. In actuality, the persons shown are none other than Marianne Faithful! and David Blue. Lou lent David the same sportcoat he was wearing in the Andy Warhol book, which is undoubtedly the reason for your confusion.

Always glad to be of help,

Peter Laughner Cleveland Heights, Ohio P.S. Reed really has lost about 50 lbs.

(Either that or Jackson Browne and Melanie - Ed.)

RHUME IN LOVE

Who is the beautiful chick you had on page 72 of January’s issue?

I’ve suddenly fallen madly in love with her. Not only would I marry her in a second, but I’d also play bass in her band for half the "price I’d charge anyone else.

Yours truly, ^

Tom Arillotta USS Fox

San Francisco, Cal.

P.S. Send me her address so I get in touch with her.

(That was Suzi Quatrq, who could chew you up and spit you out, boy. — Ed.)

EPITAPH 'N'STREP god bless TODD’S TODD, may he rest in peace.

... .“he was a sweet young thing once, now a full grown crank”... goodbye it’s you! the two Cubans N.Y.C., N.Y.

WORD TO THE WISEACRE Please! Get a grip on yourself!

John Sinclair Rainbow Multi-Media Ann Arbor,v%ich.

(Sent in response to a postcard which read: (‘FREE JOHN NOW/ I SAW MOMMY KISSING CHAIRMAN MAO/ M-A-R-I-J-U-A-N-A/ YOU’RE THE ONLY GEEZER LEFT WHO AIN’T GONE GA Y. ’’ -Ed.) %