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MAIL

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

A CANTICLE FOR HOWDYWITZ

Hi! I went to sleep the other night after reading your last issue and I had the weirdest dream. I dreamt that the world went through a total nuclear holocaust and the only thing that survived was a magazine. After the world started to repopulate, the people discovered the magazine and hailed it as their god and set their lives after the lives of the people in the magazine. Here comes the frightening part—the magazine was Tiger Beat and not CREEM! That’s a real horror show in my mind. Your magazine is divine. Gabe

Cranford, N.J; (yeah you read right. The greasy state)

(Too bad it wasn't the New York Daily News.— Ed.) . .. . V

ALLETTERATION

The other day I

a) trucked

b) boogied

c) faggoted

to a theatre to buy \

a) tickets

b) Boy Howdy beer

c) white socks

for a concert starring Jo Jo Gunne and

a) Jay Gatsby

b) Kiss

c) Beethoven

.When 1 asked for tickets this old lady sez to me “Son, you are

a) wasted”

b) a faggot”

c) a culture freak”

I flashed out a shiny copy of

a) CREEM

b) TV Guide

c) Spider Man

The old lady was so shocked by the

a) decadence

b) violence

c) stupidity that she had a

a) hernia

b) heart attack

c) brain tumor -

I was so happy that I

a) did a Ritchie Blackmore dance with my Stratocaster

b) cried

c) read the magazine Thanks, guys

a, a, b, b, a, a, c, c,

(Lester, Gene, Ace, Paul, Peter)

(signed) More Wasted Than Jay ■ Duckburg

SWITCH HIT

I read my friends’ copies of CREEM coz it’s funny, but I never buy any of the records that you recommend (rock and roll gives me hemorrhoids). Today I read that this “L.A. Blues” you’re always talking about was breaking on the country charts, so even though I hadn’t heard it on WPIK I hoofed it over to Giant Music and bought one. Was I surprised! It sounds like a manic pigeon screeching through a bad long-distance phone connection.' I don’t think I like this new country music.

Lafcadio Wluiki Falls Church, W.V.

(You’re right, we’re sorry, the record company got the labels mixed up—the actual name of that disc is Phone Call From God by Jerry Jordan. It won’t happen again. —Ed.

FIRESIGN THEATRE VS. TWO WATERMELONS

Dear sirs (and sirresses, if any):

Re: Lester Bangs’ article on Firesign Theatre: Resolved: Lester Bangs is infallible.

1. Everything you know is wrong.

2. Lester Bangs knows nothing.

3. Therefore, Lester Bangs, knowing no wrong is always right.

I agree; some of what the Theaterites say sounds pretentious, but Bangs is the same, only in reverse. Not everybody is trying to be black, Les. (L.B.: '“Lou is.”) “Drink a six pack of Bear Whiz and don’t smile,” Dynamite.

Bruce Bolenbaugh Chicago, Ill.

(If you’d spelled it ‘Theatrites,’ you’d not only be true to the Firesign’s spelling, but come up with a pun that even they could appreciate. —Ed.)

GET YER HA-HA’S OUT

Enjoyed your Don Rickies roast of the Firesign Theatre, whom I’ve always tabbed as the shiftiest “rib-ticklers” in the W. Hemisphere save Cher Bono and Allan King! You effectively skewered the whole Cheech & Chump school of houkabowl humor... I confess that 1 dread being locked away with a jillion card-carrying field hippies, all of ’em toking away madly whilst listening to their only two albums: Firesign Theatre and New Riders of the Purple Sage.

Your article made me mull over what really gets my gun in the realm of comedy. Most of the bullshit gags on teevee are aimed right down the gullet of dolts and ninnies. Redd Foxx never got a laugh with the word “cerebral” in his life - or at least far fewer laughs than he got with words like “peckerwood.” Actually, TV has given us some inadvertent comedy classics, i.e. “The Rookies” and “Gunsmoke.” Lots funnier than “Maude!”

Enuff of this caca. You done good, Lester. A very good article about the cosmic schlock comedians of the 70’s - I’ll still take a wife-joke or a Jew-joke over those “now-sound”-dope jokes anyday!

Larry McClain

Screen Actors Guild, Extras Division Liberty, Missouri LM:lm

cc: Coors Beer, Inc.

Golden, Colo.

GIVE ME YOUR HllDDLED YEARNING

What do you do when . . .

a) You’re Sixteen, Male

b) Tall & Skinny

c) Have never seen a real kunt (except in pix)

d) You’re over ambitious, but inhibited, sexually

e) Can play guitar, but you can’t find any other “musicians” interested in what you want to play

f) Your favorite groups are either fragmenting (The Hoople) or spoiling in the dung (The Stones)

g) And your parents don’t let you out past the big hour of eleven on weekends! (that’s the real clincher!)

A Frustrated and Forgotten adolescent Canarsie, NY P.S. Why me?

P.S.S. Comments arid-or Criticism to:

F and F, care of Korg, One Million B.C.

P.O. Box Your Eight Year Old Sister 3rd Comfort Station, near the lifeguard Sea of Storms, Moon Zip - six two and even, over and out P.I.S.S. “This ain’t rock ‘n’ roll, this is genocide!” -D. Bowie

(Swank. Rogue. Dude. Gent. Jaguar. Topper. Climax. Genesis. Gallery. Oui. Try ’em; I do. -Ed.)

METAL MANIFESTO

After quite a few months of reading CREEM I must say you have added to the problem. The problem — finding the ultimate in heavy metal without buying a lot of junk in the process. Aside from maybe Iggy the groups you write about all the time are pretty poor to fair. Yer biggest wazoo I’ve read so far was the one about Can in your Letter From Britain Jan. 75. Their “industrialized Violence” had an IAR (initial adrenalin response) of minus five on a scale of one to ten. Heavy as helium. Personally I like Black Sabbath, so what if it’s hard to tell the difference between the songs at least it’s better than having horns, assuaging weirdness, excessive vocals etc . . . wreckin the song. Can’t you just tell us how raunchy it is and screw how good it is. After all thasa way it spozed 1:a be.

Bill Butler Albany, N.Y.

(Try the Dictators — they get the CREEM Seal Of Approval as THE new heavy metal band of 1975. - Ed.)

ONTHEMAT

As a point of information, Dick Manitoba was not the first wrestler to trade his trunks in for a bellbottomed career in rock music. That distinction belongs to Mil Guitares, the famed “Man of a Thousand Guitars,” who abandoned the square circle in 1956 to record over 40 songs for Tequila Records in a span of three months. While he was no Presley, his “Vivo para MastabaV” (or, “I Live To Whack My Tamale”) certainly puts the DicI tators remake “I Live For Cars and Girls” into an unbreakable bear hug. Before he died in Austral-, ia in 1961 by falling off the world, Mil Guitaras was on his way to becoming another Joe McCune.

R. Evan Cirkiel Bronx, N Y.

(Did you know that Pretty Boy Bobby Hehan is getting set to produce Marc Bolan?-*-Ed.)

THE NEW ORDER

Is it true that Rick Johnson is being groomed to replace Lester now that tne latter has clung so tenaciously to his art-imitates-nonart precepts that he’s finally become as passe as his weathered second-generation icons?

Kim Urban Rochester, 111.

(Lester: ‘‘Flattery will get you nowhere. ”)

TYRANNUSi, ELT

What is this thing about Elton John? Is he the new Adolph Hitler? I turn on my radio and all I hear is Elton Hitler singing one of his weekly hits from one of his monthly albums. I mean when 12 year olds are singing “The Bitch is Back,” it seems as if the piano is the next swastika. And why won’t he appear without sunglasses on? Oh, I know,, he just doesn’t want anyone to se£ that he’s blind in one eye and can’t see out of tne other. I’ll bet it would be fun to assassinate him.

Maddog Hiding in the Cosmos Over Pittsburgh

P.S. Who does Andy MacKay play for? iGood question. But go easy on Elton; haven ’t you ever heard of a benevolent despot?—Ed.)

THE NEW ORDER PT. II

First the Beatles and the Velvets. And then the Stooges. And now the Dolls. What’s happening to the world?

Bryce Tuller Alexandria, Va.

(It’s being taken over by the Germans. — Ed.)

PSEUDO NICO

Just finished reading the review of Nico’s new album, The End, in your May ish and decided it was finally time to rite to yr worthless rag.

Who the hell does Colman Andrews think he is? It’s a real giggle to hear any Doors music, especially “The End,” referred to as “basically just another clutter of UCLA acid-head mythicoCorso pseudo poetry.”

But don’t get me wrong, this here “Nordicmeditative French avant-garde muse” is shore nuff heavy. I mean, like gotterdarnmerung, like. Everybody from Liza Minelli to Blue Oyster Cult kaows that the ol’ Deutscher image is just ripe and right for real non-artistic commercial exploitation. But I keep forgetting that Nico is a unique stylist, right? (Well, she’s no Kraftwerk, but she’ll do. — Edt) How about partisan deco-head mythicoNico pseudo poetry? I better be careful, though; rumor has it that Todd the odd is going to produce Richard Wagner’s next double-live album.

TURN TO PAGE 82.

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 10

Wise up. If you want to know where that “heartbeat synthesizer (Fender keyboard?) bass'’ came from, try listening to “My Eyes Have Seen You,” “When The Music’s Over,” etc. Face it — none of you Enos-come-lately could write a song like “Horse Latitudes” if they stood on their balding heads.

Even if none of the above were true, there’s the little matter of artistic integrity. Morrison lived and died for his music. The Doors’ music was based on content, not on how groovy 64 dubbed in session men would sound on a 32 channel tape. I’m , glad in a way that Jim has left us. At least he was spared seeing his music destroyed by a lot of derivative bullshit.

The Bluebusboy Desperateland, Ill.

BLOW JOE

If s^x is sin, why did God create Joe Dallesandro? Andy Warwolf Santa Ana, Calif.

(For the same reason He created bumps on logs. —Ed.)

WHAT FANS ARE MADE OF

Next time you’re listening to Lou Reed Live, pay attention to the applause track at the end of “Sad Song” and you’ll hear this voice bellow: “LOU REED SUCKS!” What I wanta know is, was that Lester Bangs?

R. Miller Dover, Delaware

(No, it was Constantine Radoulovitch. —Ed.)

THE NEW ORDER PT. Ill

What is the New York City concert scene coming to? Take this as an example — I went to see Loti Reed (1 know I shoulda known better, but I couldn’t resist). First, I"pay $7.50 for a lousy seat! Next, I fjght tooth and fingernail to get up to the stage to see if the abusive fricker onstage is really sweet Lou, Or an imposter with an instinctive ability for disguise via hair dye (I think it was Lou). Cops and ushers were in a very SS (as in swastikas) mood that night.

Next, I’m so crushed up against the stage that 1 can’t move and I become aware of someone ' prodding my ample ass with what I felt to be hands. I try to piove, but every time I wiggle away the hands follow. I can’t even figure out which one of the audience (?) (dried-up hippies — median age 17 — dx Grateful Dead fans) is responsible.

This goes on for two encores.

Okay, if this donkey wants to get his jollies in such a manner it’s fine with me — it’s happened to many a femme fatale at concert crushes before — he’s certainly not getting me excited!

1 leave slightly enraged. j When I get home and remove my dress I notice a large gooey, icky, sticky, smelly stain in aforementioned ass area. 1 guess it was not that donkey’s hands!!

I mean it, babes, how would you like to pay $7.50 to get jerked-off on!!!

1 may go into retirement. Lou would probably have found itfunny; maybe Lester and him could share the joke at their next intimate, warm exchange .

Love yas,

fylelaine

N.Y.C.

BAD COMPANY

How would you like to live with' a roommate who listens to John Denver’s live album from morning ’til night, walks around the house calling f. me a “sickie” with no provocation, and thinks Fleetwood Mac is a distributor of spiked condoms?

Carolyn Clinton Lapeer, Mich.

(Sounds like Lester Bangs. —Ed.)