MAIL

MAIL

Please send letters to: MAIL Dept., CREEM Magazine P.D. Box P-1064, Birmingham, Ml 48012 .

INCEST IS A FAMILY AFFAIR

I just read your article on Queen by Billy Altman and I hated it, in fact, I think it sucked out loud! I have most of the magazines on Queen and I never read a most rotten [Definitely, sic!—Ed.] article. If you write about a group you should build them up, not put them down. I'm not the only one to feel this way so Billy Altman..."Bite My Ass" 'cause Queen is Num. 1!

Mary Beth Barber Charlotte, N.C.

(You'ue got a point... they're "num", all right. — Ed.)

DANCE YER ASS OFF (HER FACE)

Dear unco-ordinates: It has come to my attention that you CREEM writers, for the most part, just may be great on the typewriter, but you're all lousy on the dance floor. I've heard rumors about all of them, most particularly Goldstein, Bangs and Duncan—that the most up to date dances they can do are the Wilson Pickett Shuffle and the End-Of-The-Month-IDon't-Have-My-Rent Tenants' Fling.

And while on the subject—are you aware of some of the later disco steps—and do they intimidate you—or what? In the "punk rock scene" that you all write so much about there's a definitely scooby dooby new step that's sweeping the British Isles. It'S called the Pogo Dance, and you rock writers should be real good at it, cause you just jump highly up in the air like you'd do at an outdoor festival when you can't see the stage.

In summation, you writers watch TV. You've seen Sonny do the Frug with Betty Ford. What is stopping you from creating your own dances? Some examples you are for America's womanhood! Oft too stoned, and again, oft too drunk to rock—let alone, ahem, roll!

Disco On,

Darcy Diamond

Hollywood,-CA

(Isn't all this Disco hoopla just Dirty Boogie ersatz, anyway?—Ed.)

WHAT DID HE SAY AGAIN, HELEN?

Somebody arrest those rectum-wipes, "Manfred Mann and his Earth Band" for the rape of Springsteen's "Blinded by the Light". I mean, where the hell did they get "wrapped up like a douche" from "cut loose like a deuce?"

Yours in an earnest tone,

The girl who gave her beloved"C" harp to Brucie at his Georgetown U. concert and who is still waiting for him to acknowledge it.

Ifer

(The Boss sez he wants to trade back the harp you gave him for another one without little curly hairs stuck in it. —Ed.)

LOU REED IS A WALKING WART

In December, Lou Reed was in Vancouver to perform a concert and it was my pleasure to be able to interview the old bugger. As it was the Christmas season, I armed myself with a gift wrapped bottle of Johnny Walker Black which I presented to the legendary rock and roll kidney. (I knew that was his fave from an article in CREEM.) I thought you might be interested in what he said:

Me: What do you think of Lester Bangs?

Reed: I don't Not if I can help it. But people like you keep bringing him up. He's a very good P.R. man for me but I just wish he'd find something else to be fascinated with. Like a dead butterfly. Me: You don't like what he writes about you? Reed: I didn't say that. I didn't say I like it either. He's writing about me and I think he should pay me for the number of times he uses my name. Me: A lot of things have capitalized on the bad boy image, especially Lester Bangs. Does that piss you off?

Reed: Oh no.

Me: Don't you feel like you're stuck into a slot? Reed: Me, stuck? Into a slot? If you were outside boy...! I think it's cute don't you?

Me: It sells records.

Reed: Sometimes it doesn't...who cares?

So there you have it.

Whatever...

Les Wiseman

Vancouver, B.C.

(Foronce, we're glad to agree with Lou...'"Who cares?"—Ed.)

LESTER BANGS IS A WALKING TORT

I would like to apologize to the readers of CREEM for the Jefferson Starship article in the March issue. I took a lazy attitude toward it to begin with, but the way it was edited [By the libel lawyers—Ed.] took out the fun parts as well as another section that was crucial in making whatever point there was to be made. I'm sorry you had to read the resultant piece of crap. Lester Bangs N.Y., NY

("The first thing we do is kill all the lawyers."— Dick the Butcher)

WHO'S APPROPRIATING WHO?

I've just witnessed a miracle! While fooling around with my four-track tape deck I made a tape of bodily noises, then proceeded to phase, fuzz, filter, echo and erase certain sections of the tape. When I played back the end result at twice the normal speed, much to my surprise, I heard Lester Bangs conversing with Lou Reed! They were discussing the cosmic consciousness of metaphysical continuity and why Lou's Pignose amp reminded him of bad acid. Is this truly the second coming of the Lord or am I just an asshole? '

Ed Belnap Jr.

The Prop Room

West Nyak, NY

(Well, it's definitely not the second coming of the Lord.-Ed.)

TOUGH TITTIES

Rick Johnson, you made me cry. Why do you hate us so? Really, we aren't that bad now are we?

Since you seem to know that girls are sissies, come see us sometime and we'll kick your fuckin' ass in.

Love and Kisses,

Joan Jett.

Sissy Union of America

P.S. Why did you hide in Illinois, Rick, when we're right here in the Motor City? Why didn't you tell us to our faces? We probably just would have giggled. You know how girls are!!

P.P.S. Do I pass the "tough test" now?

(Rick: "Go sit on a snow-cone. ")

MISDIRECTED DIRECTIVE

To the folks at the National Lampoon: You're doing great work. The last issue was terrific. I'm glad to see you've gotten over your anal fixation but the recurrence of the word squat has me worried. Well, all things in time.

You've always been good with names but you've outdone yourselves with Harvey Zuppke. Christ, you can practically smell him.

Congrats,

Boreus Totears on the Southside of Chicago

P.S. Why don't you do your next issue on music?

(HA! ".. .next issue on music... " It'll never get off the ground, Orville.—Ed.)

WHY WE DONT DO IT IN THE ROAD

Attention automotive dimbulbs! RE: Stars Car no. 25...Obviously, it's a Jensen;look at the insignia. If I had to guess, I'd say about a 1963, S40-series car. Leave the driving to Car & Driver. More R'nR!

Love,

A. Romeo Milan, Italy

Mick Fleetwood's car is a Jensen. You could have asked, you know. Talk to you soon. Sincerely,

Sharon Weisz Levinson Associates, Inc.

Los Angeles, CA

(The writer of the caption in question has been banished to forever drive his misguided automotive prowess up and down the chocolate highway.—Ed.)

MUFF BUFF GUFF

When are you guys gonna get on the ball and get Linda Ronstadt or Olivia Newton-John to pose in a bikini for your CREEM Dreem, or then again why not just in the nude?

J.C.B.

Dead & Crashing Somewhere, MO (All the girls will be coming soon and when they do, we trust that your present participle will be the only thing that remains dangling. — Ed)

HUH?

While on,vacation over Christmas, I had a friend come by my apartment every few days to water my plants. One day, he chanced upon my back issues of CREEM. Upon my return, this friend asked me just what CREEM magazine was. 1 replied that it is America's Only Rock 'n' Roll Magazine, but he did not understand. What should 1 do?

Dazed & Confused Atlanta, GA

(Have him bathe regularly with a Fender amplifier. —Ed.)

CARBONA NOT GLUE

In regards to Patti Smith—Jim Fernbacher, Buffalo, Wyoming—Patti Smith reminds me of Suzi Quatro's G-String^ a nymphomaniac trying to get through as a Dylan, but reminds me of a Peter Best, no quality, no quantity, but very high ambitiobsn John Entwhistle, through an E-note of a French horn as trying to be English when iy's a French horn. If you happen to get a promo of her forty-five it'll sound better as a thirty-three, because at thirty-three and a third it sounds like a sixteen copy of Gloria Stavers of Sixteen (Fab). That's it.

Jim Fernbacher and Joe Fernbahcre (Silly not putty?!—Ed.)

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE TOMBSTONE

I don't think you're doing a dead man justice—so why don't you be brave and print this:

THOMAS R. BOLIN

August 1,1951—December4,1976

Born for his guitar He was headed to go far.

Talented as a rock star Fron Zephyr, Energy, James Gang to Deep Purple,

His life was a never ending circle.

Tried so hard,

Tried so long,

Now we are left with only a song.

Love and Miss You Tom,

Your friend,

Flop

Sioux City, IA

THREE STRIKES AND YOU'RE OUT

This is an open letter to the readers of CREEM: Dear fellow readers,

In the past, many of you have been tempted t6 write to CREEM or have even gone as far as jotting down a few lines. You sensed a deep feeling of rejection when your letters did not get printed. This was brought on due to denial of two basic urges: (a) fulfillment of your civil duties i.e. the dispersal of knowledge to other young citizens, and (b) the need to show your peers your name printed in a national ropk magazine, proving that you are by-far superior to them and that they should form an independent nation and elect you permanent dictator. (Idi Amin take note.)

But rejoice—for you, the unprinted, are the lucky ones! Repent before it is too late. For I have had two letters printed and believe me, brother, since then my life hasn't been exactly "peaches and CREEM." Since the time' of the printing, unexplainable forces have taken over my soul.

I used to have a promising career in hotel management until the first letter. Then I started developing an urge to dress up like a Jiffy-Pop package and sit on campfires. I've now been blacklisted by the Hotel Management Union and the Cub Scouts.

Since the second letter things have taken a turn for the worse. I now have duonumophobia, the fear of even numbers. A strange sensation has compounded the matter. Whenever I fall asleep, I dream I am falling into a giant bowl of marshmallows and will be spread over orange slices by Anita Bryant if I can't name Rumpelstilskin's tailor in three guesses.

And I'm not the only casualty. If one looks in the Mail section of the March, 1973 issue you will spot a letter from Gary Gilmore calling for a Freddy and the Dreamers revival.

Therefore, I beg you, NEVER WRITE TO CREEM! And if you do, then suddenly become a compulsive pole-vaulter, don't say I didn't warn you.

Harmful or fatal if swallowed,

Stately Wayne Manor

Drexel Hill, PA ,

(Fortunately, Mr. Manor will not live to write a fourth letter.—Ed.)

WHIP IT OUT!

After seeing all the pictures of Gene Simmon's tongue hanging out in your magazine, I decided to send this picture of my tongue because I think it's longer than his. I know you won't print this in your magazine but if you get around to it, show it to him.

Toni Serafini

Montello, Wisconsin

P S: Why don't you print something about R.E.O. Speed wagon?

(We knew if we waited long enough we'd get a letter like yours. It seems like this should have caught on like wildfire long ago, but that's the Seventies, right? Anyway, our hats off to Wisconsin for getting the tongues hanging.

To Toni: if we printed things about groups like R.E.O. Speedwagon would we get the kind of response that we get from printing things about KISS?-Ed.)

CRANK LETTER #3,857

CREEMEATORS,

I've got a great idea for a new party game. Just slap on the new album by the Dudes and see who can name the most old Motown, Beatle, Them, Who, etc. tunes they've stolen . The winner, of course, has the choice of stealing'the record or stealing out the door. Needless to say...

Ta Ta Old Cronie Kansas City, MO

(Awright we got one for you. Name every black moosician the Beatles, Who & Them copped a lick from. —Ed.)

DERELICTION PREDICTION

Just to make it clear to all you assholes in the editing room here are some predictions for Kiss:

1. The next Kiss album will be very C.B. oriented.

2. Kiss will be forced to split up.

3. Ace Frehley is going to start a dog food company; and hold seminars on sex, dbg food and sado-masochist solitaire.

4. As for the others, they will become English teachers and are going to push for civil liberty reforms in Uganda.

Don't you agree? There can't be more to KISS than meets the eyes and ears. Or has too much angel dust turned you editors into kiss assers? Kiss mine!

M.J.J.T.F.

Cheektowaga, NY

(Angel dust? Hmmmm, oh ANGEL! Yeah, now there's a band!—Ed.)

WORST LETTER THIS MONTH

Be hereby yet informally informed that us, Eric Clapton, Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, George Harrison. Alvin Lee and Joe Walsh (all of us bosom buddies), are releasing a spectacular album. (In record form only.) It is similar to that fake album "The Bible One" altho our album is completely nonfictional. (You should see poor ol' Pete cryin' on our shoulders about that'un, you ANIMALS!) Our album will be about "Funk & Wagnalls New Encyclopedia" and will be titled the same. It will be a nine record set with songs ranging from 0:02 seconds (Nixon's peak years) to 43:18 (Human sex reproduction). The set will open with Aachen and close with Zymurgy. The second side of the last disc will have a full fledged index and bibliography and then every member of the "group" will say "break-a-leg" (goodbye) with an impressive guitar solo. Because of the high cost of this project there will be no advertising of this album in the media. It should hit the stores in '79 but by that time we'll all t>e dead and it will be retitled Funk .& Wagnalls Somewhat-New-Encyclopedia. For your fresh copy of our album send only $20.00 (It should cost around $45.00 in the stores), to ALL OF US BUDDIES W. Bloomfield, MI

HURRY! THEY WON'T LAST VERY LONG! Love and best regards,

Eric Clapton Jeff Beck Jimmy Page George Harrison Alvin Lee Joe Walsh

P.S. Bet you guys didn't think us "Limeys" had a sense of humor, huh.

(Bet you guys didn't think any of our readers would actually believe your fraudulent scam... you might not get enough money to cover your bail.-Ed.)