MAIL

MAIL.

Please send letters to: MAIL Dept., CREEMMagazine P.O.Box P-1064 Birmingham, Ml48012

MASTER’S THESIS FINISHED!

To complete the following study I had to skip Professor Wilsdorfs lecture on Friday: SO PRINT THIS, YA JERKS.

This study entails the rise to power of one Rick “the dick” Johnson (apologies to Joe Fernbacher for using a nickname between Mr. Johnson’s first and last names). To complete this study I delved back into my earliest CREEM’s, which (alas) was only Feb. 1979.

In March 1979 (the ’78 readers’ poll) Mr. J was not listed in the top ten of the critics list. Unfortunately, Mr. J’s fortune arises from this point forward. Of the five CREEM I own that readers could consult before the ’79 readers’ poll, we have the following statistics: 11 of the 27 “The Beat Goes On” articles were written by Mr. J. Only one of the 43 feature articles may be attributed to Mr. J, 10 of 15 “CREEMedia” pieces, two of the 60 record reviews and none of the “Rockaramas” came from Mr. J. Unfortunately the one article was the infamous first Heavy Metal article, which created such a response among the readers that Mr. J was propelled into notoriety and the numero three spot for critics in 1979!

Someone realized the commodity that they had and decided to push it (we know who you are Susan!). So now the saga continues. For the next year (I do have all these ishes), Mr. J had the following contributions: 21 of 59 “The Beat Goes On”s; 4 of 109 feature articles; 10 of 52 “CREEMedia” articles; 8 of 151 record reviews; and nothing to “Rockarama.” Three of his articles came in three consecutive months before polling for the 1980 rock critic award. One article was a second Heavy Metal piece, another was a Wimp Rock piece. He reviewed three of the most favored bands among CREEM readers: Aerosmith, the Ramones and Van Halen. By reviewing the right bands at the right time, and writing articles (none about specific bands) at crucial periods, he was propelled to the number one spot for critics in ’80. In April ’81 Mr. J got a reward for being No. 1 in the readers’ eyes, he wrote what I believe to be his First “Rockarama” piece.

What I’m getting at is that Mr. J has written questionable journalism at certain times and has been put before the public as the next Andy Warhol (don’t worry readers, he will never fill Andy’s shoes). The nadir came in your May ish when he listed Rory Gallagher as AWOL. You guys didn’t even review Stage Struck, his killer live set released last fall on U.S. Chrysalis! So how can you write him off when he is obviously around and kicking?

Bring back Richard Riegel (who originally brought MX-80 Sound to CREEM’s readers, a fact that Mr. J would like to lay claim to) any day of the week!

I’m so bored with the U.S.A.

The CREEM Fanatics at the University of

Virginia C’ville, USA

P.S. The only reason I’m typing this is because if 1 don’t hear 50 different noises at one time I’ll go insane. That’s why I like Blue Oyster Cult! (How’d you get the Virginia postmark, Riegel?—Ed.)

SECRETTRUTHS!

Adam Ant is a cartoon on The Banana Splits. I ought to know.

Sincerely,

Kevin

Mrs. Pisschuck’s Second Grade Morton Elementary School Morton Heights, NJ

ROCK STARS’ MOMS!

Roll over Huxley, a new super critic has arrived.

A copy of the review of Todd’s Healing by Jon Pareles was sent to me with the notations—“garbage review!!” I do not agree.

Obviously the guy just does not understand whereof he writes—but he sure writes well.

I have news for you, Jon—you ARE going somewhere, and furthermore you have already been where you cannot take your body—all of us get into that state of mind sometimes.

Critics are a dime a dozen and the destroyers are proliferating at a frightening pace—we really don’t need anymore.

As one of Todd’s fans wrote to me: “To help someone is one thing, but to make someone help themself is a far more wondrous and beautiful thing.” This is what Todd is preaching and I receive many letters of appreciation.

Sincerely,

Ruth Rundgren (Todd’s Mom)

Upper Darby, PA

INCENSE AND MACOMB LINKED! Why do you people waste such good pictures to support the gibberish of Rick Johnson?? On a feature no less!! It’s not our fault that the Strawberry Alarm Clock broke up.

Second, Rudd Keltz (Keltz Rudd??) should read as or at least after he writes. What the fuck kinda shit was that?

Hats off to “Stairway To 7-11”! That song needs a kick in the ass.

Greg Hurd Alpena, MI

P.S. Don’t forget to change your “Boy Howdy!” postage to 18 cents; it’s costing us too...

WEASELS RIPPED OUR WRITER

Dear J. Kordosh:

A SIMPLE RULE: Don’t talk about Ayn Rand in any way unless you set forth some definite terms first. You dismiss her, and her disciple, Neil Peart, with petty cuts and archetypically ridiculous arguments.

Is that the scope of your myopic mind? Are you that terribly ignorant concerning the cold principles of Ms. Rand’s philosophy, objectivism? Do you always morally judge thing without knowing a damn thing about what you are judging?

Well, let’s get the facts straight. Ms. Rand has been called by you, and a host of other irresponsible weasels, “A Fascist.” True, when books are discussed on the New York City pseudo-intellectual scene, she is labeled quite incorrectly. It is true also, however, the Ms. Rand is a pure Russian Jew that ran the gate as a child to escape the slaughterhouse of Leningrad.

Maybe next time you’ll bone up on the trivia before you spew out the bonehead remarks. And maybe the problem would have been solved, had you not fallen asleep while listening to side two of Moving Pictures. If you had any clue, you would have noted the last verse of the second song,

“Witch Hunt”.

“Quick to judge, quick to anger, slow to understand.

Ignorance and prejudice and fear walk hand in hand.”

Yours truly.

The Professor La Canada, CA

WHAT ABOUT...?

Dear Mr. J. Kordosh,

You are NOBODY!

Signed,

Dan Bentar (A Rush Fan)

Royal Oak, MI

AUDACIOUS COMMENTARY!

I just got done reading J. Kordosh’s interview with Rush.

That was the worst writing I have'ever read. You didn’t interview Neil Peart, you argued with him. You kept insulting Geddy Lee because he wouldn’t give you an interview. Well, why don’t you give Elvis Costello hell? He isn’t any different.

I’m not a big Rush fan, but there are some that read your mag. So why not give the readers a good article because without us (readers), you guys wouldn’t be around.

Thanx,

The Kid Weidman, MI

P.S. I’m a heavy metal fan that has never smoked pot! I also have short hair!

P.P.S. I also got an “A” in college prep English!!!

(What does it stand for?—Ed.)

TAKE A LONG WALK Everything your rag-mag says about Canada is true except you’ve got the name wrong. It’s the city of Lapeer, Michigan you’re talking about, not Canada.

You can quote me,

Michael C. Dionise Royal Oak, MI

DATSUNNUFF!

I’ve just finished reading your June 1981 issue, and there are a few things that I must comment on. First of all, I can’t understand why your sheet is still in business. Don’t get me wrong. I enjoy “good” satire as much as anyone. However, the swill contained between the covers of your rag hardly qualifies as satire. By the way, where do you get your writers from? Detroit unemployment lines? Case in point: the J. Kordosh interview with Neil Peart and Alex Lifeson of Rush. This person writes so badly he unwittingly slams himself as a mindless dolt. (He obviously comes from a long line of assembly line workers.)

I can just imagine his reaction to Rush when he first heard of them. “Oh, my God! They don’t fit into any of the standard molds. I don’t know if I’m supposed to love them or hate them. They are actually telling me to think for myself. Who do they think they are? I’m sooo confused.”

Unfortunately human nature, such as it is, has a tendency to reject anything that can’t or won’t be understood. Don’t wopy though, Kordosh. If you try hard enough, maybe you can turn Japanese and go to work screwing bolts into Datsuns. (If you can convince the Japanese you’re more valuable than automated assembly lines.) Otherwise, you’re shit out of luck.

Scott Bakran Escanaba, Ml

(A father of three makes a buck wherever he can. —Ed.)

HUFFY OR SCHWINN?

Do you know what I’d like to be when I grow up?

CARLENE CARTER’S BICYCLE SEAT! Looking Forward To The Hills,

A Homewrecker

The Missionary Position, NE

SEAMUS THE DOG!

What has happened to your magazine? What is all this new wave foolishness? Granted, there are a few bands worth mentioning (Ultravox, Orchestra Maneuvres In The Dark), but most of them (the Cars, the Pretenders, the Romantics, the Ramones, and in some cases, the B-52’s) are just electrified or synthesized Bill Haley and the Comets.

You have also gone from one extreme to the other as those of us with musical taste left have noticed, by printing letters by obnoxiously latent heavy metal assholes. I would be extremely happy if the Scorpions, Judas Priest, Van Halen and Ted Nugent would all sail into the Pacific Ocean and die peacefully during a massive train wreck. It’s enough to make you campaign for a Grand Funk Railroad reunion. Raunchy, my ass. These people need to be strapped to an electric chair and played 24 hours of “Sister Ray.”

Already, the cocaine is wearing off and I’m sinking into melancholy depression. Whatever happened to the Velvets, the Stooges, Glenn Buxton, Syd Barrett, and good acid? I swear that splinters of broken glass willy fly if anyone ever plays me (again) the “really fucking excellent song off the new Police album.” (Take it easy, New Wave-ites. The same goes for Cheap Trick.)

Good God, I need to listen to some blues. (“I was in the kitchen, Seamus, that’s the dog, was outside ”) The simple fact that nobody, including Hunter S. Thompson, is making good music anymore. Well, I’m shaking too fiercely to continue holding onto this pen, so for now I’ll crank up Throbbing Gristle and gently bleed through my ears.

Your Strooly ‘Howling Chip Yukon Saskatoon, SK, CANADA P.S. I’ve never killed a baby seal before, but I’d like to.

(Call Randy Bachman immediately—Ed.)

MORE DOGS!

What is the name of Tim Finn’s dog?

Rim Tim Finn!

So Long,

Allison “Finn” Tardell

Somewhere, But Only In The Twilight Zone Auckland, New Zealand P.S. Split Enz are the best. The Finn Brothers are gorgeous. And so are the rest!!

FOOLED AGAIN!

The other day I bought a copy of your magazine with the intention of sitting back and reading about some of my favorite rock ’n’ roll stars. You know, maybe finding out about their likes and dislikes, who in rock ’n’ roll they admire and other normal facts about where they’re at.

But all I can get out of your articles are long rambling inanities. Like your critique of Todd Rundgren’s newest LP read something like a drunken Ray Bradbury. Why can’t your writers just say “the album is dull or the songs all sound the same” instead of “a little Tomita-pureed Debussy, a little lovelight with the rhythm machine on ‘fillibrate’.” Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?!

You could have a real good mag if you’d just cut out some of the Gonzo, dig?

M.G.

Detroit, Ml

(Only if you fillibrate.—Ed.)

MAKES SENSE!

Looking at the floor-to-ceiling pile of CREEM in my apartment, I finally realized what the hook is that keeps me coming back for more. You guys still jiave the best logo—with its neon-like quality that’s always eye-catching on the newsstand. A good use of photography and color hold my interst more than the articles usually do. Inside photography is usually good, too, with humorous captions. Did you ever consider sticking to a more pictorial comic book format?

Donna Webster

New York City, NY

P. S. A pictorial scenic tour of Canada might be nice.

(As might a trip to the dentist, —ed.)

BIBBED & SQUEALING!

Contrary to the popular belief (perpetrated by Debbie Harry, Siouxsie Sioux, Chrissie Hynde, Wendy O., et al.,) not all female punks are skinny. Some of ’em are fat—like me. So what better thing to wear if you’re fat than bib overalls? What the fuck has Richard Riegel got against bibs? What does he mean that they’re against everything Iggy bled and died for? Jesus Christ! My bibs are punk, man. They have safety pins in the sides and I wear buttons (Clash, Sex Pistols, Stiff Records, David Jo, 20/20 and Iggy Pop) on this particular pair, so don’t tell me what’s punk and what’s not! I cut my own punk hair, and have safety pins in my ears. (Two in the front and a big one in the left.) 1 also wear red socks, black high-top basketball sneakers like the Dead Boys, and I like to cut things into my arm with broken beer bottles. Right now it says “Sid.” Too bad Cheetah’s name is so long.

Other neat things I do: Drink beer and other alcoholic beverages with a straw, swear every five seconds, kill flies with my hand, paint my fingernails black, and have indiscriminate sex with black leather jackets. I also collect albums. Among my sort of rare or unknown albums are— both New York Dolls albums (Japanese and Dutch imports), the first Pop album, Radio Birdman, Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels (Sock it to me.), Scruffs, all three Shoes albums, Tin Huey, the Akron Compilation (blue vinyl), Best of Bomp and Spandau Ballet. I bought Stiff Little Fingers’ live album Hanx! yesterday, but 1’ m not impressed. Sound like average punks to me. Maybe after a few more listens I’ll like it.

Anyway, I just had to attempt another letter, even though you never print them. I figured maybe you couldn’t read my writing so I’m typing this one and you have no more excuses!

Toodles,

Gail Warnings,

Genesleazo College where ail the girls are fat.

Rochester, NY

P.S. More on Jim Carroll, Shoes, Stiv and Cheetah!

P.S.S. I miss the Subhuman—what did you do? Kill him off?

P.S.S.S. Hey Peter Eicher—I’m German too (so what?)

P.S.S.S.S. Oh yeah, by the way—Richard Riegel is an asshole. He lost me when he admitted he liked the Knack (and where are they now, huh? Huh?)

(Probably epting donuts. —Ed.)

BOWLING GREEN, PART TWO!

Please print nude pictures of the following males:

All of the Clash, Walter Lure, J.J. Bumel, Pete Farndon, Michael Page, Ian McCulloch, Richard Butler, Johnny Thunders, James HoneymanScott, Howard Devoto, the Buzzcocks, Andy Partridge, and perversely enough, John Lydon.

Thank you,

Kim Hayden

Somerset, KY

(We don't like to repeat ourselves. —Ed.)

FOLEY CLOTHED!

B Well, awwwriiiight! I see you finally took my advice and put Ellen Foley back in your mag. Not quite as much as I’d hoped, but it’s a start. And even though your review said some pretty nasty things, I have to agree on one: crediting “my boyfriend” as the producer was TACKY! I cried for a week! (What is it about guitar players anyway?) By the way, don’t think this lets you off the hook. I’d still like to see Ellen as CREEM Dreem. While you’re at it, start putting her birthday on your calendars. Mine too—May 2, 1955.

Some more random thoughts:

1) Thanks for exposing Rush as a humorless gang of pompous assholes after all. You just saved me from almost getting to like those guys.

2) Get it through your fat heads, please, that you don’t have to be a teenage boy to like Pat Benatar. You just have to think like one.

3) Sorry this couldn’t be as funny as the rest of your magazine.

J.R. Lunger

Louisville, KY (It is. —Ed.)

HAPPY HOUSE!

Dear Underpaid,

Trying to make sense out of Rick Johnson’s articles is about as frustrating as trying to get high off the smell of the ink from those damp-feeling printouts you used to get in grade school. This tye-dye old Xmas stockings reporting is about as much fun as peeling the price tag off a can of shoe polish, while waiting for your parents to take you shopping with them. But who am I to complain? I think it’s great that retarded people are finally given a fair chance in journalism! Don’t you, Rick?

Lester who?

Craig Martin

Toronto, Ont, CANADA

P.S. You’re next, Billy.

(You can’t live in our neighborhood if you pound on your garage door at night. —Ed.)

PROBING ENTRY!

Whyzzit all 7-11 stores are run by Oriental types?

Go Hawaiian,

Jose Fidel Guadalupe

Miami, FL

THE AMAZING KRESGE!

Just thought you’d like to mark these important dates on your monthly calendar:

June 21—Devo will release a new album, it will go straight to number one, and nobody will be able to understand why.

July 3—Ted Nugent will make .a total ass of himself by releasing an album of recording of his sexual experiences. Weeks later, a brave fan will break it to Ted that there is not much profit in blank recordings.

September 17—David Lee Roth will be wed to Mackenzie Phillips. (I have no idea where I got that one.)

And finally: January 1, 1982—Brian Eno will reveal that he is really God, and will then proceed to condemn everyone to hell for not buying his albums. It also follows that David Byrne will turn out to be Jesus.

Signed,

A microchip

Nashville, TN (Don’t tell his dad. —Ed.)

LETTERS DONT COUNT Dear College Kid,

Since you are referring to the group Clash, you would write “the Clash suck” since it is a plural noun which refers to a group of people (yes, you pseudo-intellectual, they are people) (you must be a pseudo-intellectual because real intelligent people would at least recognize the fact that they are human).

Note to CREEM: NEVER MIND THE TYPOS. IT’S MY 20TH BIRTHDAY TODAY AND SO I’M ENTITLED TO A FEW MISTAKES!

Now, back to the abuse...

As far as readers thinking that singular noun is a punk singer or a punk group, who knows? That is more likely than not in this day and age. Of course you wouldn’t know that because you’re too busy trying to be perfect. Tell me, are you a neo-preppie? Wear shoes without socks? Wear lacoste fashions? Call your girl “Muffy”? Call yourself “Muffy"? Want everyone to be like you? Are you a snob? A Star-bellied Sneech? Eat Jelly Bellies? Vote for Ronald Wilson Reagan? Be honest now.

I hate to be putting down the preppies, but since that article about preppies in Newsweek, I’ve been a little more than wary of anyone dressing up like late 50’s/early 60’s college kids.

BYE,

The Fashion Terrorist

Cambridge, MA

(People your age are funny “in their own way. ”— Ed.)

MISTAKE OF THE UNION ADDRESS

When Lennon died it was the end of rock ’n’ roll. The whole thing was over in a few seconds, and everybody knew it. They just didn’t want to admit it. I mean, everybody said the 60’s were over at Altamont. Not true. They, like the 70’s, ended December 8th, 1980. The whole peace trip finally ended. Some people still don’t think so.

It’s always been Revolt. In the 50’s., .gangs, in the 60’s...hippies, in the 80’s...punks. Every decade is something new. The 50’s, 60’s and 70’s are over with, forget ’em. This is the 80’s, mate. It’s 1981. Jim Morrison is dead, Sid Vicious is dead. We miss them, but WE are alive! Here andnow! Ready to go forward. Even Abbie Hoffman gave up. (Abbie who?) WhatisCBGB’s and what is a Jerry Garcia? “White Riot” is now a memory. Listen to Spandau Ballet, Our Daughter’s Wedding, Dead Kennedys, Sandinista! Led Zeppelin were good in their time, but hey-ah, sorry mate! Nowadays, if a band makes it three years it’s pretty amazing!

Everybody still follows a trend. When they realize that (it’s the last thing the people of today have to overcome), then we’ll settle in and begin our era. And in the 90’s somethin’ else will come along and we’ll all be in our 30’s and 18 year olds will say Adam & the Whats? and go jam on their pocket guitars after popping some cocaine capsules. The Ritz will be old hat!

I like the Sex Pistols, I like the Clash, I like Our Daughter’s Wedding. A lot of people hate the Sex Pistols—they are the same people that liked them three or four years ago. Who cares who the fuck ya like? Some people even like Canada and some like the Grateful Dead...liking the Pistols, great..OK! But Canada and the Dead? Some people, I think, are lost in the 70’s (the kind that think leather mini-skirts and purple hair are weird), and that’s fuckin’ sad.

I think John Lydon’s got more sex appeal in his spit than David Lee Roth’s got in his whole—ahem!—body! Well, Devo said it right: “Go forward, move ahead.” It’s ’81, mate, where ya been?

Signed,

Another New York City Dweller,

Lisa James, aka Sid Nasty

Ridgewood, NJ

P.S. David Lee Roth is a wimp.

P.P.S Who did kill Bambi anyway?

P.P.P.S. Who killed Nancy?

P.P.P.P.S. Who shotJ.R.?

P.P.P.P.P.S. Who cares??????????

(Please write again when you have something to say. —Ed.)

IDOL THOUGHTS!

You never put Generation X on your cover. They’ve broken up, and now it’s too late.

Mark Edwardsen

Vivalia, CA

P.S. Trying to forget your magazine. Your magazine don’t mean a thing to me.

(Except $1.50. — Ed.)

WALTER CRONKITE VS. THE CLASH!!

The new Clash album reminds me of: Stumbling along the streets of London thru the mist in the wee hours coming home from the 100 Club (thank God for city walls) to a room at the “Y” Hotel and picking up a copy of the NEW YORK TIMES and attempting to read it while listening to the John Peel show with the window open before passing blissfully out to the tune of “Don’t Worry About The Government.”

Which means to say: I LOVE IT!!!

One Other Thing: I miss Uncle Walter. Dan Rather is such a bore. He’s about as fun as a barrel full of Dave DiMartinos. Even if he did mention the name of the greatest rock ’n’ roll band in the world last night when reporting on El Salvador. (He must’ve heard “Washington Bullets”)

Yours truly,

Betty.. .“same as it ever was”.. .Templeton from the land of nearly wed and newly dead Jacksonville “Cage,” FL

P.S. Thanks for printing another letter from Peter “I don’t need wah-wahs” also “who gives a fuck” Eicher. I think I’m in love.

P.P.S. Did Brucie S. really get $2,150,000 form his lawsuit?? TWO MILLION ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY THOUSAND DOLLARS??!!!! Direct quote from John Hammond in TIME, Oct. 27, 1975: “In all my years in this business, he is the only person I’ve met who cares absolutely nothing about money.” I know, I know. It was the “principal” of the matter, right Bruce?

P.P.P.S. Must be a Clash—there’s no ALTERNATIVE!

(One can always have one’s shoes shined. —Ed.)

HAVE A SHRINK ON ME It has come to my attention that you have received a letter from a Marianne Collins of Ashippun, Wisconsin. In the interest of continuing the girl’s psychiatric treatment, I must request that you not encourage her hallucinations by printing them for all to see. This is not to say that I am in favor of Rush—any selfrespecting Wreckless Eric fan such as myself is above that sort of insignificant, drug-inspired drivel. I simply wish to make it plain that the above-mentioned Collins chick can be dangerous.

She has been known to force Cheetos on unsuspecting passed-out party-goers. “Have a Cheeto,” she urges. Collins is also possessed by the belief that one pair of shoes she owns was a gift from God. That would be bad enough, but she also has something she calls her “Lighter from God.”

Ms. Collins is obsessed with Raymond and David Davies, to the extent that every year she makes muffins for Ray on his birthday, even though the place she sets for him remains as vacant as her pitiful mind. If you need more proof, ask her about “Dave’sshoes.”

In closing, I will simply ask you again to spare us all the embarrassment that would result if you printed the letter in question. Marianne is just learning how to handle the laughter and catcalls that are hurled at her by insensitive individuals every time she dares to walk the streets of Ashippun. Don’t give them more to laugh at. Sincerely,

Dr. DenaFord Chicago, IL

CONCEPT OF “PITTSBURGH”!

I want to bring to your attention a mistake in the print of your so called rock magazine. The mistake begins on page 1 and persists until page 66.

What’s your dang deal anyway? You fill the magazine partly with pictures and the rest of the space is taken up with nonsensical print. I mean the garbage printed in most of your reviews has no relevance or pertinence to anything. The reviews and ratings of musicians seem to support many of the mellowed out foo-foo rockers and out down the real artists with a sense of intensity in their music and lyrics.

TURN TO PAGE 64

CONTINUED FROM PAGE 11

Fortunately, there are enough of us true rock ’n’ rollers that these fallacies and biased opinions found between the pages of your magazine do not have any bad effects on the few, and usually only periodic, readers.

It’s a wonder you can expect anybody to buy CREEM again after they have read it the first time.

While you are filing this letter in the wastecan, I will be doing the same with your May issue.

Sincerely,

Stephen E. Marlette

Concerned Reader

Pittsburgh, PA

(Veiled threats are always the best!—Ed.)

WHAT YEAR IS THIS?

Dear Mr. Marsh,

In RE: your interview with Jim Dandy Mangrum (October ’7X issue), wherein discussing his influences (“Captain Kangeroo, Gene Autry, the Standells, Bugs Bunny-y’all know, the Greats!”), he also makes reference to “and that revolutionary singer fella—Dylan.” Now, 1 don’t care to jump to hortatory conclusions (Mangrum could mean onomatopoet Dylan Thomas, or my condo’s janitor Leroy Dylan, neither of whom would carry a 98 lb. weakling tune on their backs for three cubic cm., but insists on doing it anyway), but if Mangrum is refering to Bob Dylan, as in aka Robert Zimmerman, then 1 find his naivete, not to mention both his insouciance and categorization of the word “revolutionary” to be (understandably) laughably pat, and therefore a highly suspect chic existentialist cliche. Bob Dylan has never been any more revolutionary than the “New! Improved!” box of Tide, and anybody at this late date (8:41 as I type) who doesn’t realize that Dylan was never more than a clever, calculating, and somewhat superficial post-Guthrian, postRimbaudian, post-Marcusian juggler and jingleorator of pseudo-surrealistic cliches and semiperceptive (if one accepts ontogony as ontology) socio-politico-economo-religio-“We Shall Overcome”-style catchphrases reduced to the most banal (which really means that it transcends its own induced oxymoronisms) level of denoument, is certainly not eating from the same bowl of cornflakes as the rest of us! (Not only that... but my pet salamander can play harmonics better by farting thru it than Dylan could be ever blowing in it!)

If Jim Dandy (a likely sobriquet) remains unconvinced, just let him take both records from Blonde On Blonde, set them on a tree stump, have one of those nubile mountain girls squat on them for a few hours, then play them backwards at 78 rpm continuously for three days... he’ll soon get the picture! If not, then he’s been down once too often!

Where’s that check you owe me?

“Robert” (no relation toZimmy) “Christgau”

In Search of Lester Bangs (scumbag owes me $$$$too),

On the Staten Island Fairy,

New Yawk (where else?), NY

P.S.—I’d give the Mangrum interview a B+ , the rest of the issue a B-. Take this letter home, have your parents sign it, and return it to me by the end of the week.

P.P.S.—Tell that Rick Johnson character that if he’s going to be a rock critic, he better learn how to write in proper, understandable English. Gimmee babies, indeed!

(Tell us your real name and you can interview Hurricane Smith. —Ed.)

QUEEN FOR A DAY!

I recently bought the May issue of your magazine. I would like to say that I think your magazine is awful! There is nothing but criticism and insults in it. I found it very vulgar and uncouth.

I would also like to add that your remark on Roger Taylor releasing a solo album was totally uncalled for. For one thing, Roger Taylor is no more “of Flash Gordon fame” then he is of Smile fame. He is known for his work with. Queen. He is not noted for any one particular album. He’s a superior drummer and an excellent writer. To say his solo album “bites the big one” is an unfair accusation because you haven’t heard the album as of yet. Try doing your homework next time CREEM! Some of your readers may not know Roger has not recorded his solo album yet, but some, like myself, do know that he has not yet recorded it!

Finally, might I add your comment Freddie Mercury had turned into the person that he’d always wanted to look like all his life was a cruel and inconsiderate remark. As an artist, Freddie is a genius and certainly doesn’t deserve an insult like that!

Sincerely,

Natalie Sheehan

Wakefield, R1

(SeeBGO caption, this issue. —Ed.)