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THE FLYING OF FEAR

Not just another L.A. send-up.

July 1, 1982
J. Kordosh

Like most people, I’m afraid of lots of things. High on my care-list are new Rush albums, pointy sticks, and my kids growing up to be just like me. You know, your usual stuff.

I’m generally not afraid of the mail, except for that one chiropractic flyer, but last week (as I write this) I got an interesting package from Slash Records—it was full of Fear. Specifically, it was a copy of Fear’s first record, which—just for the record—is called The Record. You can probably buy it at a record store.

“Look,” I said to my wife, A. “They’re a punk group.”

“How can you tell?” she asked. Isn’t she something, though?

“It’s because of their names. See: Lee Ving on vocals and guitars. Philo Cramer on guitar and vocals. Derf Scratch on bass and Spit Stix on drums. These are punk names; I’m almost sure of it.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Hmmm...I dunno. I guess I’ll just put it away and listen to it when there’s a hard frost in Heck. You know how 1 feel about these mischievous punk bands, hon.”

“That’s my rock critic,” A. smiled, patting my shoulder approvingly.

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