MAIL

MAIL

Please send letters to:

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

CLAMORS FOR PATTI Why don’t you CREEM-puffs cut loose of those petticoat-panzies you’ve been capping on (Karen Carpenter and Carly Simon for example) and get down to a real rock ‘n’ roll lady such as the notorious Patti Smith? (Is this “America’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll Magazine?” Or some redneck roster?) Maybe you should rename this anti-rock magazine something like CRUMM. All I’ve seen from you on Patti wassome shit about her high school reunion. 1 mean—Mademoiselle beat ya to it (“Rock ‘n’ Roll’s Lady Raunch”—Sept, issue). I’s sad that even though I read CREEM daily, I have to refer to an even sicker magazine to keep up on rock ‘n’ roll. Also—what happened to your photographers? Dead? I’ve seen those pics of Lou Reed and Grace Slick for years. Oh!And tell the Ig-ster I said “hi.”

Janet Plannet

Devil’s Island, Calif.

(For the first of many CREEM installments in the definitive Patti story, see page 36. — Ed.)

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ WENT THE WHEEL You are off your trolley, because, man, the Bay City Rollers are the hotest [sic] group I’ve seen in years.

I’m sick of reading articles in your mag about those dip-shitters that promote that same old pschedellic [sic] music, that’s been around for ages.

It’s time for a new trend — so Bay City Rollers - Roll On!!

Charlotte

P.S. I’m no old foggy I’m 24 years old.

(Perhaps you are somewhere adjacent to the vacant lot of being right. See page 47. — Ed.)

THE EDGE OF NIGHT

Dear Sirs,

I am writing with high hopes that your staff will be able to prove false a somewhat perverse rumor I encountered yesterday.

Last night during a beer drinking party (which was both wild and evil), I was informed that the members of a rock ‘n’ roll band called “Alice Cooper” were transvestites, and that the lead singer, one Alice Cooper, was actually a hardened homosexual.

This upsetting rumor has just added to the numerous problems I have encountered at college this fall. My roommate’s living habits are both vile and disgusting. He insists upon covering the latrine walls with pornographic pictures of lewd, buxom women. Sometimes he stays locked in the bathroom for hours at a time. My mind often ponders what type of deviant activity goes on between (?—Ed.) those locked doors. On weekends this youth (who shall remain nameless for my personal safety) doesn’t come in until 1 or 2 in the morning. While I feign sleep I can often smell beer and cheap wine on his breath.

Yes, you gentlemen are no doubt shocked by this repulsive behavior, as indeed I am. But with bands as sick and degenerate as Alice Cooper loose in the streets, it comes as no surprise. In closing, sirs, I would be very grateful if you could investigate this “Alice Cooper” rumor further and give America the true facts. If, however, the band members are indeed, “Queer,” please keep articles and .pictures pertaining to them out of your fine magazine. You will be doing myself and the youth of America a fine service.

Sincerely yours,

Russ Shumaker Kent State University (Wayne County says hello. — Ed.)

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO S.I. HAYAKAWA?

Hello!

I am a Japanese fan of CREEM.

I am very disappointed to hear that the Rolling Stones will break up.

I knew this shocking news in the newspaper of Japan.

Really? I can’t believe.

In this summer the Stones held sensational concerts in your country.

A few years ago, we had missed a big chance of their concert in Japan, you know.

I am quite anxious to meet Mick Jagger.

It’s the biggest desire in my whole life.

If they break up, what is he going to do?

Please let me know the truth!

I am waiting for your kind reply.

Sincerely yours,

Mayumi Koike Shizuoka-shi, Japan

(A stranger of value will come to you shortly. - Ed.)

BUKOWSKI RANCID?

In an alley near my house there are numerous recent Rolling Stones-related graffiti additions. Any cultural phenomena that can elicit such response one hundred and fifty miles from the scene of the event lacks no impact. It therefore surprises me little that an overgrown burned out shell such as Charles Bukowski would be oblivious to the spirit of a Stones concert. If he could climb out of his rancid alcoholic stupor, he just might find that if you try something you get what you need.

Tim Spann San Diego, Calif.

THE LAST AMERICAN HERO?

That article by Charles Bukowski on the Stones was a knockout. Simply the best Stones article in your magazine (or any other) since Lester wrote .about his understandable distaste for Bianca Jagger. CREEM and Lester Bangs are to be congratulated for championing this great man’s alcoholic utterances. If he writes not another word again, Charles Bukowski should be remembered for his great line: “When my belly’s going bad vodka soothes me and my belly’s always going bad.” Truer words were never spoken.

As always,

Jovenas

SPRINGSTEEN BACKLASH INTENSIFIES

I will be forced to cancel my subscription if you continue to hype that god-awful no talent, Bruce Springsteen.

I was all set to forgive you for running that Dave Marsh puff job on Springsteen in the October issue when, to my complete consternation, I opened up November’s CREEM and saw Lester Bangs’ shameless review of his Born to Run LP. Lester’s comparing that whining, self-pitying Springsteen to Neal Cassady was the last straw. In fact, it was sacreligious. Neal is no doubt doing cartwheels in his grave right now. Lester, I never thought you’d stoop so low,.

Sincerely,

Dashiell Chandler •

Poisonville, Pa.

P.S. Those so-called Creemettes who hawk Boy Howdy T-shirts in your magazine are lewd and disgusting. Besides that, they ain’t got no tits and you can tell them I said so.

(Lester: “The greatness of any album has nothing to do with the public’s reaction to overhype, and the CREEMettes ain’t exactly drooling after your buns either. ”)

J ADE THE OBSCURE I’m pissed off at you guys! All of you! I’ve been reading your mag for about four months now and it is really far out. It’s even better than Ted Nugent, but that’s not why I’m pissed. All this time I’ve been reading CREEM and nobody’s said a fucking word about Ed. You know who I’m talking about, Ed. The guy who has to read all the mail from all the degenerates, homicidal maniacs, and Elton John freaks. And has to come up with something amusing to say to each. And what does he get for it? NOTHING!! Not a damn word of thanks or even a “Go to hell.” There he sits, in his little office, all by himself. Nobody to talk to. Nothing to do except read the obscene mail. Everyday. We, Ed., I want you to know that this is one person who appreciates you, who wants you to know that I think you’re doing a helluva good job and to keep up the great work.

Sincerely,

An Ed. fan

Webster Grove, Missouri P.S. 1 tried the Dictators, just like you said. You were right.

(Go away, kid, you bother me. — Ed.)

ADORATION OF SNAILS I really hated the November issue. It’s people like Stills, Young, Furay etc. that deserve the adoration of snails.

And if Marshall Tucker can’t “do a tune twice in a row” like Tinkertoy Calchyell sez, howcum they’ve put “Can’t You See” on three of their four albums?

Over the flu,

Lee Michaels

Insecticide, Ill.

(He’s hoping Magma will hear it and do a cover version? — Ed.)

NO MOSS ON PETE

Pete Townshend’s problem is that in the past he has written from the teenage viewpoint. Now all of a sudden he realizes that teenagers aren’t listening carefully anyway. So what he should do is write songs for frustrated 30-year-olds. It’s probably not too much more sophisticated than writing about a 15-year-old’s frustration.

From, _

A Turkey

Staten Island Ferry

(From the lyrics on The Who By Numbers, it sounds like he took your advice. — Ed.)

TASTE THE WHIP?

While recently browsing through Mr. Reed’s S & M emporium, “Ceeky’s on Avenue D,” I came across a most unusual apparatus — a plaster cast of Lisa Robinson’s mouth. I just had to buy it; it would make some conversation piece I thought! But alas it was so big the poor delivery men couldn’t get it through the door of my lavish art deco apartment. So the darlings had to take it back! Tsk, tsk! Better luck next time, Lisa.

Mr. Hatfield Faesi Sutton Place New York, N.Y.

(And have you discussed this misogyny with your psychoanalyst? — Ed.)

PIXFOR THE HIX KIX Got your name and address from Crippled Givi' lians. Hope you can help us.

Our Unca Lou, who lives in the Big Bad Apple, will be 34 this winter. He’s a bitch to buy for, but maybe you can help. D’you know where we cUuld score a snapshot of Andy Warhol in his animal jammies?

Eat Yer Makeup,

Carlotta Mountie Dentin Dafender Toronto, Ont.

(Try writing AP-Wide World. — Ed.)

HOBIE GILMAN LIVES Was David Bowie ever in Las Cruces, N.M. “Loretto Mall” shopping center on a Saturday or Friday????? My sister mentioned the fact that she saw a tall redhead, very pale, wearing pale tight clothes and walking sorta fast. He gave her the overall impression of “WEIRD” or a David Bowie. Outstanding because we never see anything like that in our liF ole hick town. Later we learned he was making a movie close by in Alberquerque. So it made us wonder...(By the way did he hear my mother utter “IT LOOKS LIKE ONE OF THOSE..;”???)

Jan /

Hick Town, N.M. (Alias “Gateway to Hatch”) (Well, it obviously wasn’t Gabby Hayes. — Ed.)

TODDINGOFF

“Veg-o-matic into the Void” was dynamite. Todd was always over our heads but we always managed to get it after a few months. (At least our own interpretation). Now it’s so plainly “abstract” that I don’t care to figure it out.

You quoted “Godd” as saying Something/ Anything was “sitting around, getting stoned, just laying there type song.” Well what in the flock is “A Treatise on Cosmic Fire” anyhoo?

It seems his “I don’t sell albums for money ’cause I don’t need it” is really true. Tell him to “end the entire game right now” for our sake. The last thing I want now is a “spiritual” album from Todd, Mahavishnu, Carlos and Geo. Harrison (they would probably have it in the hymnals next year).

Sircus Sucks E. Haven, Conn.

(How about a spiritual album from Ted Nugent? - Ed.)

KEEPING FUTURE SHOCK ALIVE Attention all you miserable earthling slime farmers:

After six false starts and eight stuffy years, I’ve finally bounced into this hunk of shale you call a planet. We hail from the far reaches of Uranus and we kin promise you a great life on another world if you sell your worldly possessions and your family and buy us some gas to stick in our ship’s empty tank.

And for a modest fee, we’ll tell ya all about what this rock and roll crap will be like in ten short years. And on top of all that, we’ll throw in a sneek preview here, just for you guys and CREEM ragazine.

For instance:

•Ginger Baker, Keith Moon and Aynsley Dunbar will have formed an all-drum band by ’81, but since it sounded too much like six simultaneous firing squads, it will mark the demise of Ginger’s 472nd career band.

TURN TO PAGE 82.

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 11.

•Alice Cooper will have acquired a new backup vocalist, Olivia Newton-John, who will sound like Jim Morrison.

•Savoy Brown will celebrate its 1,000th personnel change.

•Black Oak Arkansas, to avoid heavy taxation, will move to a new town and be called Berwickupon-Tweed England.

•Intellectual music will be dominated by Slade,

who’ll play “Cum On Feel The Noize” to audiences who applaud politely and don’t ever whistle or snap their gum.

•The biggest new band will be made up of two illiterate tribesmen from the jungles of Botswania; a Japanese soldier from a little island of his own since 1943; and one of Brian Jones’ bastard kids. Their style will be laid-back classical music and they’ll record for Mainman on Kama Sutra.

Paraplegic W. Lisper

Uranus

Solar System 94604

(You left out Bruce Springsteen’s version of Tonight’s the Night. — Ed.)

CREATION OF THE HUMAN FLOYDS For my sins, the September issue is the first copy of CREEM I have seen in the flesh — and it’s an enjoyable read. But where on earth did Michael Bloom get his facts for “Nova Express or Exploded Stars?”

To start with (particularly the first album Saucerful of Secrets Syc Barrett was Floyd. But if you read the interview with (memory escapes) either Wright or Waters in the English rock magazine Zigzag a couple of years back, Syd was so far gone the band couldn’t continue with him — for one series of gigs they stood him on the side of the stage, but that was futile because he wasn’t playing the same songs as the rest of the band. Eventually they had to face the fact he wasn’t going to get himself together ever again and sack him. If the Floyd had been purely Barrett’s band they would have folded at that point.

Does Michael Bloom really consider that works like Ummagumma, Atom Heart Mother and Meddle are of no consequence? Some of their music is erratic, but in a way that is part of their appeal.

I’m not writing because I’m a Floyd freak, but the Floyd have carved their niche in rock history, on this side of the water at least.

Keep smiling,

Chris Eastwood

London, Eng.

(Yeah — without them, no Tangerine Dream! - Ed.)

TROPHIES FROM THE PIT Re: the letter titled “Jonsed Out”:

Listen, ya big fat floozie liars, / have Anita Pallenberg’s teeth, on a gold chain that 1 wear around my neck. An if ya don’t believe me ya can come to my house and see ’em.

Esoteric as always,

The Lady in Black

Pismo Beach, Calif.

P.S. If ya ever have a Marc Bolan lookalike contest I’ll win.

(Does that mean you have pubic curls all over your head and weigh 350pounds? No, seriously, we’ll pass on checking the chompers, but did you know that Lou Read’s spinal sheath—spontaneously shed in 1970—is up for sale in the latest issue of The Rock Marketplace?—Ed.)

MASH NOTE OF THE MONTH I dreamed that Jaan Uhelszki begged me to take her out dancing and I refused. Afterwards she fell in love with Kiss’s makeup man (he’s bisexual) and then when I asked her out she turned me down.

Jaan I need you desperately. I’ll read your articles in my underwear if you ask me for a date.

The Ghost

Waiting desperately

(Jaan: “I'llbossa-nova with you in my bikinis anytime, babee. ”)