MAIL

MAIL

Please send letters to:

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

EYE SHOULD SAY

Could you send me the address for the Starsky and Hutch T.V. series in Hollywood, California, or David Soul's fan club?

And just one other thing to mention: your magazine definitely isn't bad. I buy a copy every couple of months and at bedtime I read it from cover to cover, each time noticing something else.

Keep up the good work.

Peace,

Lenny Palminteri

Farmingville, NY

(Not true! For you see, every issue we print Starsky and Hutch's address where only people who really read the issue from cover to cover can find it.—Ed.)

STONED LOVE

If the second part of the Keith Richards interview is half as. good as the first, I think I'll buy a bunch of copies and send them to all the people who've been running Mick and Keith and company down claiming that the Stones are aging sell-outs who are only interested in making money, not music. The interview gave me a whole lot of insight into Keith the man as well as Keith the musician. Roy Carr should be commended for doing such an excellent job. I was also very moved by the cover; I think that anybody with any sense of human feeling could see just how much Keith means to Mick (and since when has Keith looked so happy and healthy?). And as far as how Keith feels about Mick, well if you want it you can lean on me.

I really liked both the interview and the cover. As far as I'm concerned you guys really are "America's Only Rock 'N' Roll Magazine", and I've been a stoned out rock 'n' roller since I was 15 back in '68.

Definitely not too rolled to stone,

KoKo Blue

Austin, TX

MEASURING ALBUMETRIC GROWTH

Let's face it. Boston's second album ain't so hot. Neither is Foreigner's. And I see that Black Sabbath is on tour again. And a new Jean* Jacques Burnel solo album! I guess that's what Devo is all about.

Geoffrey Morris

Atlanta, GA

(Devo is about a decade, give or take six months.—Ed.)

AT $8.98 LIST, THEY OUGHTA FETCH YER SLIPPERS

All right you peoploids who own Bowie's Low album and Stage live albums—get out your black lights and put them on near the vinyl of these three discs and see what happens. The record wax itself is black like any other album, but when you put these records under a black light they glow green. If you put on a light at the same time whilst holding the records under the black light they turn blue. Ver-ry strange.

Ex-Californian

aka Alan Baillargeon

Providence, RI

Of you put the records in an incinerator, they glow red, briefly; then white; then they finally turn into picture discs of the Meatloaf album. -Ed.)

READERSHIP DOWN

You can't fool me with your sleazy image. You are one of the most intelligent, highly esoteric magazines in the world, also edifying puerile peons and serving as serial rock historians, and astute ones at that. My respect for your humor and creativity is great.

At the least your staff must consist of illustrious college drop-outs and rock hobbyists who are established in unrelated professions. Am I guessing correctly?

Well, I haven't subscribed yet, though I do buy often enough. Rather than putting your response to my next question before the public in your scintillating Mail section, could I just get a personal response from Ed. or one of the higher-ups? A simple note will do.

Is writing for CREEM a viable career choice? What all is required to qualify for your staff? Does it take impossible connections to get into the business, are you particular about the formal education and executive experience of your employees? Do you ever hire straights, provided they're highly knowledgeable about rock and other vital phenomena?

Thanks for the information.

Very sincerely curious,

Grace Rogers

Provo, UT

(It takes more than just beauty, money, dope and talent, kid...Why, if that were the case, we'd have hacks like Jagger or Jackie writing for us. Straights who try working here are invariably found face down on Woodward. We are ex-cons, pimps W 'hos, alcohol lowlife, society's tripe...in short, jes' plain folks trying to earn an honest living. Why can't you all just leave us alone?—Ed.)

THE SLEAZY TRAIL AND OTHER LOVE STORIES

I've been following the increasingly sleazy trail of Steven Tyler since his early days in Boston with Julia (Is it too late to learn a career?) Holcomb.

Now I read that he has just married Cyrinda (David probably hasn't even seen Sgt. Pepper) Fox, and is awaiting daddyhood: (Soon, like real soon.)

Perhaps all this says something about Steven's early years...Was his mother ever scared by a bottle of Miss Clairol?

I just have to know!

Collen (ready to bleach out at a moment's notice) Jones Vincennes, IN

(No, but his father was kicked in the face by a chorus girl.—Ed.)

MATERNAL INSTINCT

Rick Johnson's review of The Beach Boy's M.I.U. (M.I.A.?) album really annoyed me because, in my opinion, it was a real put down to mothers. That guy must really think moms are stupid or sedated or lobotomized or something. The next time he sets out to rip apart some really queasy album, he had better leave mothers out of it.

Mothers against the Beach Boys,

Brooklyn, NY

(Rick's just joshing. He loves mothers. Why, he's already created about a dozen of his own. —Ed.)

SO WHO'S COUNTING?

Unless George Thorogood was in utero when he saw Chuck Berry at the Anvil Inn 20 years ago, like he said he did when I saw him at the Anvil Inn this summer, I don't see how he could be 19 like you said. And I've already been through two virgin births and I don't believe in it.

Besides, he's too good to be 19. You have to be at least 30 to be that good. Like Bowie, Jagger, Daltrey, Townshend, Richards, you know. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good. Good.

R.U. D'One

Blasted Heath

Southeastern, PA

(We see you've been quite thorough. Good. —Ed.)

THIS NEVER HAPPENS IN A BOY HOWDY T-SHIRT

After reading Rob Patterson's article in the December issue, I decided to wear my Cheap Trick shirt. The result? Five "Cheap Trick sucks", one egging, seventeen dirty looks, and two sniping attempts. There is no justice.

Auf Wiedersehen.

CH**P TR*CK Fan Forever,

Somewhere in Oregon.

P.S. Who or what is a Punky Meadows Lip? I'm very puzzled.

P.P.S. Is Rick Nielsen as macho as he looks? (Rick Nielsen is laughing at you. Through Punky Meadows Lips. Does it look macho to you? -Ed.)

PIERRE OF SUPERIORITY

This is God. All right you guys! I'm not putting up with this anymore! You guys have gone far enough!

I want everybody off this place by 6:00 TONIGHT!!!

This is your FIRST and LAST warning! (You'd better remember what I did to Sodom and Gomorrah!!!)

Warmly Yours,

The Chief (G.A.) (God Almighty)

Cold Turkey in the Country (Sorry Pierre, the Canadian postmark gave you away. But the stone tablet did have us going for a while.—Ed.)

NOW HERE'S A PERENNIAL

Hey man, like what's goin' on here. Like, I mean what's happened to all the great rock bands? Like, I walks into the corner store and picks up a copy of yer mag and like', wow, I see all these groups that I can't relate to. Some of them even have short hair, and (worse yet) no beards! What ever has become of the Iron Butterfly, the Strawberry Alarm Clock, the Great Peanut-Butter Conspiracy, the Kool-Aid Acid Test, the Lemon Pipers, the Seeds, the Blues Magoos, the Electric Prunes and Blue Cheer? Please explain.

Coming down off a very long STP trip,

Peace and love,

A Flowerchild

Haight-Ashbury '

P.S. Is the war really over?

(Hey, don't sweat it! The new wave hate Ashbury too!—Ed.)

PECK OF TROUBLE

Does The Mad Peck live in Chelsea? I happened to be walking down 23rd Street between 7th and 6th Aves. when I came upon "M. Peck" etched in the sidewalk.

Lance Linett

New York, NY

(No, he only breeds there. Of course, what you saw could have been the insignia of the Mad Peck's notorious grand-aunt, Marimba Templeton Peck. Pecks are everywhere.—Ed.)

VACUUM VISIONARY

It has become all too clear to me as to who The Ramones are. They are God.

Thank you,

S.M.

Hell below

Toledo, OH

P.S. Tommy is Christ.

(So why does God have the Bee Gees singing for him [them?].—Ed.)

HE'LL PROBABLY BE MAYOR SOME DAY

I think that Elvis Costello went through puberty between recording My Aim Is True and This Year's Model. But I noticed that the majority of the letters yoq print are written by people or things that live in San Francisco, so does that mean if I say I live in San Francisco my chances of getting my letter printed are upped? Actually, I live in WASP CITY California (aka Orange, City of Appeal) and I get a lot of static due to the fact that all the frustrated virgins (are they? who cares?) at my school think I'm bisexual just because I dressed up like Frank N. Furter on Halloween and did the Time Warp in the quad at lunch. So give me a break. When people ask me what kind of guitar I play, I tell them it's a Strat copy and they're satisfied. Few people know what a Strat looks like, let alone a Strat copy. Ignorance is bliss. And when my band—RORER 714—gets famous, we are never going to have a picture disc that looks like a giant quaalude. DID YOU KNOW that Freddie Mercury never goes to the bathroom? I cried when Keith Moon died, and then me and some friends when to a Mexican restaurant and drank margueritas in his memory. Maybe we should have gone out and destroyed a hotel room or thrown shit on the living room walls. I don't know. I have no regrets. The funniest joke in the world is the one with the punchline "So I bit him". The lips at the beginning of The Rocky Horror Picture Show are Magenta's (NOT Riff Raff's). Is Johnny Rotten? Is Sid Vicious (I think so)? If Brian May, does that mean Freddie will? I want to tell you that reading your magazine has cleared up my skin really nicely. There is a fine line between amusement and disgust (I like to think I said that first) and your mag still manages to amuse me. If Tim Curry is not God, then he is certainly a reasonable facsimile. But before I lose my train of thought I would like (I would like? I would like a trip to Europe) to say that you should do an article on Japan so we can see if they have more to offer than Adolescent Sex and Obscure Alternatives.

Anywhey is in my ears and in my eyes,

Wizard Mercury •

San Francisqo, CA

(Say, you wouldn't happen to have just starred in a major motion picture with a Meco soundtrack, would you? We suspected as much. —Ed.)

SECRETS OF THE STARS

I know for a fact that Ted Nugent eats Ding Dongs in private. Don't ask me how I found out, or I could get a Twinkie where it counts!

#1 Runaways Fan (It's hard, but I'm trying!)

Industry, CA

(You probably don't even have anywhere it counts.—Ed.) i

FOOT WORK

Report from the North Woods: Things are beginning to happen here. Last spring it was the Dead (get down, get relevant, throw Frisbees and stuff). This fall Santana happened, and Boston is on the way.

Quick, send J. Belushi up here before something terrible happens, like Kiss.

Love,

Nanook

Hanover, NH

(What'sa matter, Big Foot go Hollywood on ya? Too bad—sounds like you've got a real potential "stomping grounds" there.—Ed.)

SHAUN-GONE

How dare you insult a gifted performer like Shaun Cassidy so unmercifully? Who do you think you are? You seem to think all of Shaun's fans are brain damaged 14-year-old girls. To this I say: HOOOOEY! 1 am a devoted Shaun Cassidy fan. I am 28 years old, and am an assistant university professor. I have long been a follower of rock music in all its varied forms. Yet, I have never seen a performer as dynamic, exciting, talented, intelligent or beautiful than Shaun. His music is much better than regenerate scum pseudo-nazi punk rocker assholes,that you promote in the pages of your syphillis-encrusted slime sheet.

Now, jerk offs like you always make a big deal of a great entertainer's relationships with his fans/groupies. To this I say so what. I only wish it could be me on the receiving end of Shaun's naked lusts. This is my only fantasy, and it occupies my mind constantly. I think Shaun could use an experienced older woman to teach him kinky, sweaty, moaning, groaning, satiating sexual behavior.

So lay off Shaun or I will come to Birmingham, Michigan and flames will destroy your offices.

You guys really bite the big baloney sandwich.

Yours Truly,

Ms. Understood

A perennially disgusted reader.

(May your every dream come true. Wench. -Ed.)

NOW YOU TOO CAN HAVE A CAREER IN BATHTUB CHEMISTRY

Referring to what you said to end part of Keith's interview, you have it all mixed up, Ed; the bathroom is the only place I ever read your mag (ever consider wrapping CREEM around a little cardboard cylinder so I can wipe myself with it when I'm done?).

K.G.

Woolrich, PA

CONTINUED ON PAGE 64

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 9

P.S. The other day I saw Page, Plant, Townshend, Davies, Bruce S., Costello, Mick, and Keith walk into a telephone booth. Then I saw a lot of smoke, then Ric Ocasek walked out. (How 'bout if we wrap it around a tube full of explosives so you can really wipe yourself with it?—Ed.)

PAH-TAY TRAINING

Hello there,I am a suburban rock star of sorts, waiting for the day that I can mingle with the quasi-stagnant dorks and dorkettes that you excrete on the masses each month via your whimsical and oft-times humorous mag.

When I get to California I'm going straight to one of those Hollywood "pah-tays" (creep articulation for "party") and give "el dorko-deluxe"

Rod Stewart a prostatic 40-weight enema, then use his sperm to artificially inseminate a salamander to create a clone worthy of his name. I'd like to remove his sphenoid bones with my Ibanez but I sold it because I heard that Steve "Can I steal your riffs?" Miller pwned one. By the way, I have a squirrel monkey named Jake, and every time I change his cage I put pictures of Rod baby that you print on the bottom. He won't shit on anything else. Except Patti Smith.

Austin Frayne

Weymouth, MA

(Monkey see, monkey dot), huh?—Ed.)

FLOYDIAN SLIP

For all of us Pink Floyd freaks in Montana: "Weed" like to know if they're still together, or if the dogs have gotten them?

From the animals

Missoula, MT

(Could be they've given their listening public the "pink slip."—Ed.)

THE AMERICAN MYSTIQUE

There's one thing I can't figure out: Why do I buy this rag? Do I read the articles? Ninety percent of the time, no. Do I look at the pictures? Mostly. Do I read the captions? Always. I think it's because I'm still trying to figure out America, starting at the bottom. I spent a year in Detroit one week—illegally, of course. They weren't gonna let me across at the bridge, so I lied through my teeth and actually pretended to be Amerrikun at the tunnel. Never got to taste Stroh's, but made friends with the local roaches, and met my guardian ang£l in the guise of a jellobrained glue junkie called Jimmy and sped wildly along the freeways in a rotting'Volkswagen and saw the Rouge Complex up close and got laid alot. If this is America I think I'll stay here. I haven't missed an issue in three years, but the question remains: Why do I buy this rag?

Hopelessly,

D. McKay

Toronto, Canada

P.S. We have ways of getting concerts here— ya listenin', Keef?

(Why do we print these letters? Do we find them witty, articulate, and thought-provoking? No. Do we make cruel jokes around the office about the sexual preferences of the people who write them? Mostly. Do we consistently avoid giving straight answers to any questions, no matter how earnestly they are inquired of us? Always. One question remains: Why do we publish your trash?—Ed.)

CHEAP TRICKY

I want Tom Petersson and Robin Zander or Tom Petersson or Robin Zander. I'm not picky.

Lynn Harrison

Atlanta, GA

P.S. If you print my letter I'll know what it means and I'll send you my mailing address. (Not picky gets Rickey!—Ed.)

GET BECK

Jeff Beck: We want you, we want you so bad. Yeah, we want you, we want you so bad, it's driving us mad, it's driving us mad. Jeff, we want you, we want you so bad, so bad, it's fucking driving us mad, yes, it's driving us mad.

We want an album, we want a tour, we want it so bad that in your two-year absence we've all gone mad. Hey, we want you.

We want you, and bring your Les Paul, we want you both so fucking bad, it's driving us all mad...

Keita

Philadelphia, PA