LETTERS

LETTERS

Please send your letters to:

Mall Dept., CREEM Magazine, P.O. Box P-1064, Birmingham, Ml 48012.

‘‘LABABEDI’* PSEUDONYM STILL WORKING!

Thanks for your superb coverage of heavy metal, punk/hardcore, and assorted other categories. You’re keeping the Lester Bangs spirit alive very nicely these days. But your December issue, I’m afraid, illustrates once again that you have an almost complete lack of understanding of music made by women.

I refer to Bill Holdship’s uninformed interview with Bananarama and Rick Johnson’s equally uninformed review of their True Confessions album. Holdship’s right, of course, to stick up for the B-girls’ “Venus” video in the teeth of the Moral Majority’s crusade against sexy rock music. Yet almost in the same breath he points out disparagingly that Bananarama have been accused of being mere groupies-on-the-make—a criticism that wouldn’t sound out of place in the mouths of Jimmy Swaggert and Tipper Gore themselves. Later on, Holdship dredges up the tired criticism that Bananarama don’t play their own instruments (!)—a pointless complaint that sounds even sillier when you consider that the very same CREEM issue includes a vigorous Holdship tribute to those incredible non-musicians, the Monkees! What are you guys trying to say? That the girls’ midriffs are fine, but you’d prefer some fat guitar riffs?

The point, though, is that Bananarama don’t deserve CREEM’s outrage any more than the Shangri-Las or the Marvelettes would have in their heydays. Turn back to their first U.S. album, Deep Sea Skiving and check out the tunes they recorded with original producer Barry Blue. “Cheers Then,” “What A Shambles,” “Young At Heart,” “Wish You Were Here,” and “Boy Trouble,” all written by the girls alone, together make up a fantastic celebration/send-off to the low-rent Swinging London of the late 70s and early ’80s—as well as being five of the most gorgeous pop productions in years. Listen to the organ swirls on “Cheers Then” or the bass line on “Wish You Were Here” and see if I’m wrong. And the girls’ “oooohhhhs” sound just fine.

Since teaming with shlockmeisters Tony Swain and Steve Jolley, Bananarama still have managed to produce some gooduns, such as "Robert De Niro Is Waiting” and “Rough Justice.” Sarah, Siobhan and Kerin may be small commercial potatoes compared to yuppie factory product like Madonna and Cyndi Lauper, but when was the last time either of those two young ladies took a song about rapists to the pop charts? Johnson and Holdship, take note: Bananarama are the girl group of the ’80s.

Eric Laursen

New York, NY

(Iman Lababedi wrote the Bananarama feature.—Ed.)

THE SIMMONSIAN MOUTH & THINGS THEREIN

In all my year of reading articles on Kiss, in everything from People to Playboy magazine, Bill Holdship wrote the most realistic description of Gene Simmons ever. The brief times that I was “allowed” to be around the band, I could visualize those things coming from Gene’s mouth.

It’s been 10 years since I was made a fool of by those guys through my formation of the Kiss Army. And a cruel introduction to the musick biz. Thanks again for calling it as you see it.

Bill Starkey

Terre Haute, IN

WE WIN!

I have been a faithful reader of CREEM for years and can truly say it has changed my life! How? By introducing me to the remarkable Mr. Robyn Hitchcock via an article by Bill Holdship in your March, 1986 issue (“God Walks Among Us!”). On the strength of this article and an equally intriguing album cover painting, I took a gamble and bought that first album. What a revelation!—let alone, relief—to discover that such intelligent, inspired songs are being written by a living, breathing being in this otherwise bleak and mundane world!!

I arn a waitress with no car, too many bills, and an urgent need for a new pair of work shoes, but somehow I have managed to obtain every Soft Boys, Hitchcock-solo, and with the Egyptians album, EP and compilation I can get my hands on! I even sent for the BucketfulI Of Brains flexidisc mentioned in CREEM, June 1986 (“Happy The Golden Prince”). I love them all—life is good!

So, what’s my problem? In your July, 1986 issue, a videotape was recommended (Gotta Let This Hen Out\) obtainable from an outfit called “Counter Intelligence” (P.O. Box 7749, Station C, Atlanta, GA 30357)'. As luck would have it, I have a neighbor who owns a VCR and had just had a birthday myself (my beloved grandparents send me cash). On July 2,1986,1 sent my check for the tape and a Fegmania T-shirt ($40.46, including handling charges specified by Counter Intelligence) and it was cashed on July 7, 1986. After four months and five pleading letters, I have yet to receive my merchandise, a refund or any word whatsoever from Atlanta.

I realize you have nothing to do with this “outfit,” but please never mention them in your magazine again! If you print a list of 1986’s best videotapes and Gotta Let This Hen Out! is on it (and I’m sure it will be, sight unseen!), then recommend your readers obtain it directly from the manufacturer: Jettisoundz Limited, P.O. Box 30, Lytham St. Annes, Lancashire, FY8 3UH, England. Order # JE139, $35.00 (Postage included) cash—via registered mail or international money order.

I wrote them and they were polite and apologetic (and prompt!), but have no connection with Counter Intelligence (how I hate that name!)

Anyway, thank you for reading this. Since I cannot go to Georga myself to exact revenge on those detestable swindlers, I, at least, had to tell someone!!! Please keep covering Mr. Hitchcock in CREEM and thanks again.

Kim Kline

Upland, CA

DISCUSSION OF OUR GRANDEUR CONTINUES!

For years now I have dismissed CREEM as another Motley Crew, Madonna Wanna-Be, give the people what the corporations want, anything a typical 14-year-old might listen to type rag. (No offense, of course.) But what’s this? Articles on alternative type music like the Cure, the Replacements, the Meat Puppets, the Ramones, the Raunch Hands, and even a cool album review on my favorite voodoo swamp-abilly band the Cramps? (Phew! I’m winded!) Finally, an answer to the cries of all us (I hate labels!) underground music enthusiasts who have been living in a desert wasteland of music mags ever since (R.I.P.) the Trouser Press. Yes! We’ve been starvin’! Forced to read mags like Rolling Stone (Yuk! The Don Johnson fashion catalog) for a two paragraph excerpt on the BoDeans or a lackluster review of the Church’s new album. (Does anyone really understand those Rolling Stone reviewers? A different language all its own?) It was great to see CREEM put R.E.M. on the cover! Also cool was the “Night With R.E.M.” contest. It’s so refreshing to see a magazine that’s brave enough to put Genesis and the Butthole Surfers (what a great double bill!) in the same issue. I realize you must of lost some readers, (heavy metaloid Jabba-Men, I’ll bet) but I want you to know you’ve gained tons! All my friends and I in the land of ice, for sure! Let the other rags sell to the masses of glib-eyed sequin gloveholders. CREEM is a true music magazine! A fine potpourri for everyone’s tastes. Keep it up!

Paul Nickodem

Keflavik, Iceland

“OBJECT/’ BINKY. IMPUGNED! ALL IS LOST!!

After a 10-year perusal of your magazine we have come to these conclusions—you will never be taken seriously until you

EXPLAIN:

1) Why Canada is a good place to fish but “Beware.”

2) Why the English are so ugly.

3) Why the ghost of Sue Whitall in Handsome Dick Manitoba’s leotards haunts this Delphic temple every Wednesday.

EXPOSE:

1) That Rick Johnson is the “fifth” Stooge.

2) That Dave Letterman is the human incarnation of that favorite Sumerian god, “Baal.”

ADMIT:

1) That Dave DiMartino looks like Dave Johansen after a severe beating.

2) The “checkers” concept is superior to the Object From Space and Binky concepts, but inferior to the “Fluffo” concept.

3) The “Notable” Cow is not a concept at all but a stunning piece of realism.

4) The Bangles are pretty darn cute.

5) That guano (bird shit) is the best nitrogen fertilizer.

LET THE PEOPLE KNOW:

1) That Dick Clark Is Tweetle Dum.

2) Who is the world’s “greatest” checkers player.

3) Jim Morrison did too die.

Soc “Rockin” Tes and Aris “Rollin’’ Totle

Omega, MN