MAIL

MAIL

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

BLAME IT ON THE CLEMMA?

Could it be? Was it possible? My heart beat itself into a wild frenzy as I ripped out the preceeding twenty pages until—YES! There it was! Page 21, [CREEM Feb. ’80], at the top, photo—center, HIM, that luminiferous Popeknower, that Garden City prince—John Amore! I love the Mutants, but for one little words from Mr. Clemma I would become a Catholic, a Nun.

His stance, his wit, his cardinal grin, his sensuous receding hairline, that voice of comfort all add up to God’s only creation that ever lit my fire! Thank you, CREEM, thank you Walter Wasacz, THANKS Mr. and Mrs. C., thank you God.

Eternally grateful

(but I want MORE)

Krista

.St. Louis, MO

GOOD MAN HARD TO FIND, ETC.

I caught your article on the overly predictable Ted Nugent, who lost his loincloth after falling offstage. Can you tell me why he was arrested? Can you tell me who really cared? Can you tell me what kind of redneck would waste $10 to see him at all? Can you tell me, where are the police when we really need them?. We really did need the police during the most recent Detroit Iggy Pop concert where he willingly exposed his manhood twice and was unzipped down to the last pubic hair throughout the whole performance. Not that I wanted Iggy arrested, I wanted the 2,000 fuckin’ homos controlled who were screaminq “I got six inches of hot ■ for you” and “Shove every damn inch up my_” What’s this world coming to? Can you tell me?

Cold Beer

Detroit, MI

(Sure. But first pick up the soap. —Ed.)

TOUCHING QUERY!

Are you guys ever serious about anything?

Just Wondering Batley (The Gonzo Baby)

Carson, CA

[Thel.Q. of our readers. —Ed.)

AFTER THE CROWD RUSH

Mr. Young: I think I should write a sequel to “Ohio.” y

Mr. Townshend: Oh yeah? How’s it go?

Mr. Young: Well, I have to change it to “11 dead in Ohio.”

Mr. Townshend: What are you going to call it? Mr. Young: “Teenage Wasteland.”

Mr. Townshend: Yeah, itfigures.

TheStorch

Redondo Beach, CA

(and loving it)

WHY THE MIDWEST SHOULD BE DESTROYED

I’m a devoted Led Zeppelin fan; as you can see by my spelling, PCP and Jimmy Page don’t mix. Like sometimes I be listening to “Communication Breakdown” and figuring out how much it relates to my life.

Last Fryday night me and my buddies went down to Arnold’s Drug Store and bought a pint of Mad Dog 20/20. We went to the parking lot and began to get stoned on a few good doobies and the vino. All of a sudden we was ousted by a Bloomfield Hills pig; I mean what a bad trip. He took our drugs and let us go.

Later that night me and John “Stonehead” Boner met a few good mamas at our high school; Leisure High. We all hopped in my old man’s station wagon and went cruising down Woodward Avenue. I turned on the jams, and “Wang Dang Sweet Poontang” was rockin’ out of the speakers. This got me in the mood for a little puss. And shimber me timbers, there was some sitting next to me. When I was staring at her crotch, the car went wheeling off the road into the ditch; I mean, what a bum scene. After a few minutes (really one hour, but time flies when I’m blown away) I got the buggy back on die road.

I’ve been smoking the evil weed (Maryjuana) since I was 11 years old in the second grade. My parents turned me on to it. Around the middle of high school I started to become really crisp in the mind; this is when I started to read your magazine. I think CREEM has a lot of meaningful .writings, but I really get bummed out to the max when someone cuts down heavy metal. I love your topless centerfolds of Robert Plant and Steve Tyler.

Up until now I’ve only overdosed three times in my entire life; always on acid. I’m 17 and I like it. I will continue reading your magazine as long as you continue to be a heavy metal magazine.

Johnny Werp

Bloomfield Hills Surf Club

Bloomfield Hills, MI

(Yeah, but have you ever heard Dark Side of the Moon on headphones, man?—Ed.)

LOOK OUT TROY DONAHUE!

OK, guys, time to play “Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is,” and I know you can’t wait, right?

Recently, I was perusing some of my older CREEM magazines, and in the February 1979 issue I ran across an item in “Confessions of a Film Fox” dealing with the Ramones (who are God), and their first venture into celluloid, the incomparable, four-star Rock ’n’ Roll High School. In it, you stated that Billy Altman (sigh) was a featured performer, and had a line to boot. First person to correctly identify said line, you promised, would win a lifetime .pass to Altmanville. (Is that in the same neighborhood as Punky Meadows’ Lip Farm?) I know I’m rather behind, but the film didn’t open here untjl mid-October. Besides, you know how fashionable it is to be late these days. So here’s the answer. Billy’s moment of glory comes when the four R’s cruise up in their custom pink Caddy to the melodic strains of * I Just Want To Have Something To Do,” and, posing as a. prospective ticket buyer, he alerts everyone to the fact that “Hey! It’s the Ramonesmobile!”

Please send the pass as soon as possible—I’ve already got my plane ticket. And you can tell Billy for me that I’ll go down to the basement with him any day.

Don’t worry. I’m not gonna sign myself Sheena or Ramona.

(I want to be) Johnny’s Girl Lisa (sort of prosaic, huh?)

Phoenix (yeah I’ve heard the jokes, too bad they’re true), AZ

(Billy: “Close, but ho chainsaw. As has happened with many other unheralded talents before me, my line wound up on the cutting room floor and, as a protest, I’ve pledged to myself to never divulge its content. Still, such on effort on your part should not go unrewarded. To cash in on your prize, meet me at the Burger King on Sixth Avenue near 45th Street. Order a Whaler, large onion rings, and a medium coke—no ice—so I’ll know it’s you. We’ll play it by ear from there. ”)

EXCRECENCE ON PARADE

Don’t put shits like the Clash, Led Zeppelin, Ted “Dogbreath” Nugent, etc. on the cover. You used to be good, but now you suck shit! You should change your name to “America’s Only Hippie Fart Magazine.” You’re 99% shit, %% shit trying to look good, and only V4 % good stuff.

Mike Snider

Los Angeles

(How’s your mom?—Ed.)

1 KANSAS TERRORISM CONTINUES!

Hey DeFazio: I, too, have never written to a magazine, but once again you have proven to me the true stupidity of society.

The article on Bobby Steinhardt of Kansas, or as you bluntly put it, “Kansass,” was not due for the steamroll it was given. As anyone can judge for themselves, Kansas is a highly over-talented bunch of guys.

Robby was not actually basing talent on frets per second—that it displayed in his compositions. Robby has very versatile and complex leads, as do the rest of the group.

Classical rock, a symbol of purity and/or intelligence seem to be a threat to you. Rock as it is today, is and has become grossly distorted only because of the other dirt entering, such as Rat Scabies (what a name), the Blockheads and others.

As a future musical engineer, I must say the future of good rock ’n’ roll and classical rock looks pretty shaky, but it will survive. It’s got to. It’s our only hope to keep safety pins out of the future generations’ noses!!!

PUTTING LIFE INTO THEIR MUSIC. THEY ARE KANSAS! KANSAS IS A BAND!

Laura Little

Miami, FL

(Quick, Captain Kirk! The death laser!—Ed.)

CAR CRASH EFFECTS CONTINUE

Where am I? Do I have a new album out? Was I so embarrassed by Sgt. Pepper’s that I went into hiding? Why can’t I sell out a 5,000-seat hall—and is that girl going to take half my money away?

PeterFrampton On Tour, U.S.A.

HELLO. PETER

Hi.

Richard Robinson (in Jan. ’80 CREEM) says he’s got all these video tapes of Dylan, Blondie, Ramones, Doll, etc. that he never watches. Well look, If they’re VHS tapes I’ll take them off his hands. Be happy to. In fact, Rich, I’ll give you two times the money it costs you to mail them to me. No, three times! I’m generous. Hell, you say you never watch them. Why not give them to someone who’ll appreciate them? Tis better to give than receive, after all, unless one is dealing with taxes. Awaiting the tapes, I am

Peter Eicher

Jackson Heights, NY

P.S. Are the Knack really as snotty as they look, or do they just look as snotty as they are?

P.P.S. My friends all say somethings wrong with me because I’d rather screw Cindy Bullens than Stevie Nicks. What do you think?

(Alicia Bridges has nice hair. —Ed.)

JOCKOES HOMOS

Why is it that all the great rock stars (Jagger, Bowie, Stewart, etc.) are homosexuals? Is it part of the qualifications? If they want to act like women, why don’t they go out and have a sex-change like Debbie Harry did? I’m sure those rich fags can afford it.

Long Live Punk!

Rick Denton

Long Beach, CA

(But who can get any action in the ladies’ room?—Ed.)

GLAD YOU ASKED

What? Roger Daltrey does his cals onstage to save time? Maybe he’s getting in shape to fight off killer crowds. Pink Floyd: what’s with the Echoes? We waited three years for the wall, b that how you do it? Gay-Rod’s an asshole. Mick Jagger is a step ahead of the people, always was. Personally, I, like the Beatles, Neil Young, and Led Zep. Can’t top that. Give the Knack some time. If the Clash is so great, how come they’re not on WMMS? What happened to Klaatu? If you see Paul Me, tell him to wail over Cleveland. Rust Never Sleeps b a mind-rush. “Powderfinger” made my head sizzle.

Cleveland does rock.

Radio star? Ha! Ha! Ha! What are Buggies? Don’t be silly.

Answer this one only: Do you like Michael Stanley?

Bye,

Z

Cleveland, OH

(Aren’tamphetamines wonderful?—Ed.)

TOUCHE, TURK-FACE

Billy Altman: Foreigner's new album b half-assed? Oh yeah? Well, you’re half-faced. Same thing in your case.

Wendy Machuga Garfield, NJ

(Have you considered professional debating? -Ed.)

VANILLA FUDGE PARANOIA!

Well, b’s and g’s, it comes as no great surprbe that the B-52*s should emerge as the fave-rave of the new wave and that DEVO should fall from favor with the release of their second album. A bunch of geeks with the knowledge of trashy pop chic and a few funny, detached lyrics are safe enough to laugh and dance along to without having anything to say. The rubber city mutants get a little more specific and not as pooty-poot witty as their debut and therefore appear to lose their sense of what’s hip. Figures. Just as the Clash will never be as “hip” as the Ramones, since the former.sings about stuffy topics like unemployment and terrorbm, while the latter has the good sense to poke fun at those merry mental patients and those zany burnouts and so forth. And it would come as no surprise to see Roger Corman underwrite a pleasantly predictable fun-filled fantasy for the B-SZs, just as he did for the Ramones.

“Punks” who enjoy the B-52’s and Ramones are similar to “hippies” who got into the Vanilla Fudge and “greasers” who danced to Fabian. TravbBickle Dellwood, MO

(Watch for the Clash and DEVO performing “You Keep Me Hangin’ On” in Roger Corman’s upcoming We Remember Fabian TV special. -Ed.)

JOHNSON AS GYMNAST!

Rick Johnson: How dare you do it again? What the hell b wrong with you? You incompetent jerk. No matterwhat you say Led Zeppelin is still the best. So why don’t you just go piss up a rope?

Janet

VanNuys, CA

(It’s a question of being hung. —Ed.)

BACK FROM BORNEO «■

Please answer questions for me. Is Wayne County getting a sex change? Does Joey Ramone wear dark glasses and holey jeans in.real life or as an act? Are Lenny Kaye and Patti Smith married to each other? What’s happened to Jeff Beck?

ThankYou,

M.Z.

Bethlehem, PA

P.S. Are you still breathing?

(1. Jeff Beck had the sex-change, 2. Joey Ramone married Lenny Kaye, 3. Patti Smith wears dark glasses in real life, and 4. there are many holes in Wayne County’s jeans.—Ed.)

VITAL FACT

Do you know that if you play the 45 rpm record of “Pop Muzik” at 33 rpm, it sounds like Iggy Pop on quaaludes?

Well, nowyouknow.

Signed,

Terminal Nnnghhh...

Coos Bay, OR

(Try humming a few bars, we’ll pick it up. —Ed.)

A GRIPPING DRAMA

FADE IN

Carson: My next guest is probably best known for his album reviews published in CREEM magazine. Would you welcome Jeffrey Morgan. (Morgan walks onstage, and politely nods to the audience.)

Morgan: Hi Johnny.

Carson: Hi, Jeffrey. As you already know, that’s Frank Zappa seated beside you.

Morgan: Hi, Frank.

Carson: What’s all thb I hear about your recent review of Slow Train Coming by Bob Dylan? It seems you’re putting down Bob himself more than the actual release.

Morgan: Yes... well, you know how it is.

Carson: I feel, personally, that your review was more of the person than hb music. Wouldn’t you agree? I mean, 1 think hb songs are boring, too—but how come you never reviewed them? Morgan: Hey—I know my own ability.

Zappa: Look, you—if you’re gonna put/ down Dylan as a person, you better well know him first. Whatsa matter you feel threatened cause he knows where he’s at? Maybe you don’t.

Carson: Come to think of it, Jeffrey, your review did kind of take some cheap shots. I don’t know—/ judge an album by the music.

Zappa: Yeah. And so what if Dylan’s quiet? You make him sound like some empty box tryin’ to make money off people reacting to his change. Maybe you just can’t handle it—I mean, majbe somebody’s trying to get some kinda message across here! Who the &$%* sent you, anyway? Morgan: (Pulling out a gun) HOLD IT! Are you trying to tell me my judgement is wrong? Are you telling me I can’t judge an album by what a person believes in? Are you telling me 1 HAVE TO LISTEN TO IT FIRST???!

CUTTO:

Announcer: We interrupt this program to bring you a special News Report.

John Chancellor: Good Evening. At this hour, Jeffrey Morgan^ a hack writer, is holding the cast, crew, and audience of the Tonight Show hostage in NBC’s studio8A. His demands are that:

A) Allpeople holding any specific beliefs be taken to the nearest coliseum and fed to available lions.

B) Those people of quiet natures and who are not conversationalists be given Easy-Steps To Monotone In Six Easy Lessons. And finally,

C) His reviews be published in all major magazines across the continent.

If these requests are npt granted, all those in the audience disagreeing with Morgan’s review will be publicly stoned (as in rocks).

FADE OUT.

AVanHalen, Ted Nugent, Journey, etc. Fan, OR

Don’t worry, Jeffrey—we won’t judge you by your achievements

Petitioner Lisa Hillman and Supporters Sarnia, Ontario, Canada

A PATRIOTIC NOTE

The Clash suck!!! I’m sick and tired of all these limey British punks, wimps, and cunts coming over here in this rock ’n’ roll haven and putting down our country. Why the fuck don’t they stay home? We don’t need ’em! They can’t even rock ’n’ roll good. I seen ’em at Masonic and they sucked! The Babys at Royal Oak were better than those wimps! We can do without assholes like the Clash and Elvis Costello. Those pussies are practically crying ’cause they ain’t getting no airplay, and the next second they say they don’t care. They’re just jealous of America and they’re mad because they ain’t got mass acceptance here. Iggy Pop, the godfather of punk rock, is eight times as good as those wimps and he’s 30 years old. In Detroit alone there’s a hundred better bands. What I’m trying to say I guess is .that if they hate America so much, don’t come around here because we sure as fuck DON’T NEED YOU!!!!!!

Yours for sure,

Jared Janes,

Royal Oak, MI

P.S. Edit what you want out of the letter cuz I know it ain’t too articulate, I just had to get that off my chest.

UNSUNG HERO REPORT

I wanted to clarify a few things so I thought I’d drop you a line. In reference to the January issue of CREEM, Nick Tosches in his Unsung Heroes of Rock ’n’ Roll series writes of Cecil Gant, the G.I. sing-sation. Nick states: “Cecil Gant’s last session was on Jan. 19, 1951. Not long after that he was reported dead. Although the details of his demise...are unknown, it is generally believed that...he died from drinking.” Actually, Cecil Gant died of pneumonia at Hubbard Hospital in Nashville, Tennessee on Feb. 4, 1951. I’m sure his drinking didn’t help. But dig the lines on “Loose As A Goose” or“Cecil’s Boogie”! It was a great article, though, and I hope the good work continues.

The Joe Jackson article was pretty good. It sure was an awfully relaxed sort of interview. I half-expected a barrage of expletives and biting truths from a person so famed for a “cut the bullshit” type attitude. Susan Whitall, I mean.

See.ya soon,

Theodorerooseveltmoniak III

Detroit, MI

P.S. The Nick Lowe,poster is a scream. The Knack, on the other hand, make me ill. Mr. Unique Lives!

ARNOLD ZIFFEL SPEAKS

I like your articles on “pig poop;” they are interesting to read, and even worth the money the magazine costs me.

M.F.D. O.I.C.

Madison, WI

(Is that a ring in your nose or are you just happy to see us?—Ed.)

YOU WILL FOLLOW ORDERS!

Tell Mitch Cohen to slam his genitals in a car door! If he thinks Tusk is bad he should take his face out of his ass! Just because Fleetwood Mac has the decency to show sorne originality and not sound like everybody else! That impotent S.O.B. can suck on Rick Johnson’s nose until his head caves in! SUCK MAH ASS! May the fleas of a thousand camels infest your pubic hair, Mitch! Put that in your jock strap and snap it!

KimLandress

Natalie Egler i

Taylor, MI

AMERICAN MIKESTAND?

Now that Dick Clark gave us the Birth of the Beatles, do you think he’ll give us the Afterbirth of the Beatles?

Do you think Dick is a dick?

D. Sherman

Detroit, MI

P.S. Is it true that cool people don’t we£r underwear?

(Ask your mom. —Ed.)

BOOK OF REVELATIONS, CHAPTER 13

Please open your hymnals to page 26.

HOLY HOLY HOLY STEAMBOAT ANNIE ALMIGHTY

Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee Holy, Holy, Holy. Merciful and mighty Annie in three (or more) persons blessed Trinity (or Vancoooever, which ever city Ann can displace more water, like the Atlantic and Pacific put together).

Holy,Holy, Holy. Steamboat Annie Almighty Early in the morning your song shall rise to -we (?)

Holy, Holy, Holy. Un-merciful and Tubby Which wert, and art, and evermore shall be

Holy, Holy, Holy. All the scums adore thee Casting down their golden points around thy glassy sea

Robert Plant and Jimmy Page falling down before thee

Perfect in power in love and (hah hah) pur-ity. A-men.

You may be seated. Children of Steamboat Annie, sinpers. Winners, scums and bums hear my plea to thee.The collection tub will soon be coming your way, so please give tubbely. HEY WAKE UP OUT HERE. GIVE ME ALL YOUR WAMPUM OR ELSE ilL BE FORCED (pure , pleasure) TO SEND ALL OF YOU FREE PROMOTIONAL COPIES OF HEART’S NEW ALBUM AND AN 8x10 COLOR GLOSSY OF THE REAL DEVO BOBBY SHERMAN. DO YOU HEAR ME??????

TURN TO PAGE 64

MAIL

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 10

The Space Needle Gang

High Atop Gatlinburg Tennessee’s unfamous

Spaaaceee Neeedle.

K-Town, TN

P.S. I wasn’t fibbing about the band I’m in. Look for Rook, otherwise known as theRamone Sisters, revisited. What happened to our blueeyed son Lester Boom Boom (Out Go The Writing Abilities) Bung Bangs? I heard from unreliable sources (Sir-Cuss Mug-a-Zine—Zine’s aregreatto mug, esp. in Central Park) that Lester got a job as a go-go dancer at the Black Poodle Lounge on Lexington, is it true? Nope, don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter though, nope doesn’t.

S.P. LONG LIVE SUSAN WHITALL (CREEM can clod out with the cows). ELECT SUSAN WHITALL FOR PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF LOVE 1980 for the HIPPY-CRAT PARTY. Ye-haW. The following is the Space Needle Gang’s Blacklist...Annski Wilsonski, Graceski Slickski, Fayski Rayski, Toddski Rundgrenski, Robertski Duncanski and Vanessaski Redgraveski. Pick a cause that you feel like when you read this. Hey, how come the picture of Talia Shire and not Frankie Coppola? Apoc. Now deserves more than Vietnam. Iggy is a lush. I loathe Nick Lowe. I hate Lucy. I love Desi.

(Susan would love to run for president, but only if she wakes up in time—Ed.)

MA BELL SUCKS EGGS

Greetings and what-ho. The September ish has got to be about the best CREEM so far this year!

Lenny Kaye speaks his mind and I sure listened. Only problem wasvthe piece wasn’t nearly long enough. The Cars article was the first decent article I’ve seen concerning those thump-thump rat-tat-tat boys, who I still say got their “unique” sound by mixing “Green River” with the Clash and Sex Pistols. (Just think of Fogerty with a fuzz box and synth and you understand some of what I’m saying.)

Who are the Who? As Rachel Sweet says, “Who cares? C’mon everybody...” J care for one. The Who may be just a bunch of old farts, but I’d give up my autographed Cerebus the Aardvark poster to get a ticket to see them at the Garden. Good article too, even if it was ANOTHER fuckin’ Who article.

But what REALLY mattered in this issue was the Graham Parker story by none other than the marvelous Susan Whitall (second only to the fabulous j.m.). Was a bitch to read though.

I just started getting into it, reading how Suse and Promo Girl (nice try to confuse everybody on who promo girl really is. / know who she is, and she knows who she is and I still love her as witness every letter I’ve ever written to you people) were stalking the streets of Detroit (Go Tigers!) and then...brrrriiinnnngggg!!!...the fuckin’ telephone rings. I hate the telephone, even though it was only my sister asking if my mother was home, which she wasn’t. So it moves along and Graham has got me totally engrossed talkin’ about how all those U.S. Styx and Journey fans are all such assholes (true, so true) and then... brriiinnngggL.Shit! It’s the fucking phone again, this time being my father who asks for my mother who still isn’t home. Having had my concentration destroyed twice, 1 plunge once again into the world of Rumours (no connection with Fleeting Crap, pleaze) and as Sussy and Geep are fighting it out over “Protection”, guess what? Right. Bring (I don’t have the strength to emphasize it anymore). GOD DAMN!!! WHO THE FUCK IS IT NOW!! It’s dad again, asking for mom who still isn’t home and better get here before I kill someone. At last, Graham gets to talkin’ ’bout his old man when, here we go again, ring-ring-ring-ring-ri.

I kicked my phone about eight feet int6 a wall and let it go at that. Incidentally, my father was very upset when he got home and wondered why I kicked the phone. How do you explain rock ’n’ roll obsession to a born and bred Glenn Miller freak from way back when before the big war [which he was in, albeit for the Good Guys (which is the Germans) (we shall overcome, you know, don’t think we’re down and out yet) (actually every VW Rabbit sold (I got one) is a hypnotic device which will soon convince everyone in the United States (and I mean everyone. Who doesn’t own a Rabbit? Or at least a Dasher.) to revolt against democracy, blah rock bands (Queen, Styx, Foreigner, you knotf/) and McDonald’s hamburgers and replace them with Socialism (which ain’t Commienism and don’t let anyone tell you it is), punk and Creedence' and Brew and Burgers that only sell Beck’s beer] even started.

I must note however that Sussy W. used a dangling participle or whatever the hell you call those things which I don’t remember anymore because I haven’t taken a grammer course in two and a half years. Get this quote: “stalking the...streets.of Toronto with Promo Girl for food.” You went stalking and used Promo Girl for food? Can’t blame you really. God knows I’d like to eat her, so why not you too, eh Sussy? Whatever turns you on is fine with me. We could even make it a threesome, you know? I’m a generous guy.

j.m. is right as usual, about Nicky Lowe and all, and tell Jon Pareles that Bowie is, was, and always will be dull, dull, dull and let’s all give a cheer for Bobby “Look how great I am” Christgau who finally got some sense into his head and gave TRB 2 an A-, which is exactly what it deserves and you can take that from an authority. Me.

Wishing you all the best and remerriber: Promo Girl Lives!

Peter “I don’t need no wahwah’s” Eicher

Jackson Heights, NY

The cocaine capital of the WORLD, really.

P.S. Know why "CREEM is THE BEST r-nroll mag in the world? Because its entire editorial staff, just about, is women. Which makes -it different from all the rest, and somehow better. And that was a great picture of the editorial peoples on page 22 of the Sept. mag. Now if I only knew which one was Linda Barber and which one was Cathy Gisi...

(Here’s a clue: check their toe tags. Promo Girl is exactly who she was described to be. You’re wrong, you crazy kraut!—Ed.) .