LETTERS

LETTERS

Please send your letters to: Mall Dept., CREEM Magazine, 7715 Sunset Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90046.

DE FROSTING HYNDE

In regard to Deborah Frost’s unwarranted attack on Chrissie Hynde (CREEM, April ’87), and her accusation that Ms. Hynde “may help set the women’s movement back another hundred years,” I must say, I was appalled at Ms. Frost’s short-sightedness.

Although Ms. Hynde says she’s “not interested in feminism” because she’s never had a problem being a woman, surely actions speak louder than words, and what Chrissie Hynde has accomplished speaks for itself. Whether she did so intentionally or not, and whether Ms. Frost realizes it or not, Chrissie has in fact made strides for women in rock. In 1979, when it was not so popular or acceptable for a woman to do so, she took charge of a band, as organizer and leader, guitarist, singer and songwriter (and hers were aggressive and unique songs, both lyrically and musically, causing yet another stir and awakening). And she’s never been afraid to advocate her convictions and beliefs, both in her songsj and in the press, regardless of what any-, one thinks. This lady speaks her mind!!

So Chrissie Hynde has been much more than just a female front person who at one time was only expected to sing someone else’s songs and look (OK, maybe sound) good doing it. She helped open the door for women in rock, and proved they should be taken seriously! And her prominence as a woman in the predominantly male world of rock ’n’ roil stands on its own as evidence of the breakthrough she helped create for women.

Joanne Portnoy

Chestnut Hill, MA

After the first reading of Deborah Frost’s Pretenders (read: Chrissie Hynde) article, Chrissie Hynde comes off as a real self-righteous bitch. I wasn’t sure if it was because of Hynde’s hypocritical babble or Frost’s sarcastic interjections. However, after reading Tim Blank’s Pretenders article in Graffiti (Canada’s almost-CREEM), and hence, more babble about bad karma derived from eating meat, I found that Frost was far too kind to the haughty Mrs. Hynde.

Chrissie says that she doesn’t want to be “some sort of icon of goodness.” All she wants to do is “play guitar in a rock ’n’ roll band.” Well, when I pick up a rock ’n’ roll mag to read about one of my favorite rock ’n’ roll bands, I don’t need to read about what a sick, demented “dickhead” 1 am for having a Big Mac for lunch. Have you ever heard of the food chain, Chrissie? You know, small animals eat plants, bigger animals eat the smaller animals and humans eat the bigger animals and plants for a balanced diet? Icon of goodness, indeed!

I read somewhere that Hynde thinks that heroin should be legalized for addicted users. That’s real good, Chrissie: outlaw eating meat and legalize heroin. Are you sure some bad acid didn’t get around to you along with that throat thing? Do us all a favor and stick to playing guitar in your rock ’n’ roll band, and leave the veggies to Morrissey.

Oh yeah, thanks for printing Jello Biafra’s letter! It’s scary to think that the leader of what was once the most outrageous hardcore band seems to have a more intelligent view of how to raise kids than a senator’s wife, isn’t it? My check is in the mail, Jello.

Billy (Don’t Call Me William) Brennan

Detroit, Ml

I liked Ms. Frost’s article—she knows bullshit when she sees it. About Chrissie, all I want to say is:

1) Does she lose just as much sleep every night thinking about where her leather pants and motorcycle jacket comes from?

2) Does she have a forehead or eyebrows under that ghastly hair? It looks like slash and bum agriculture, dear.

Jackie Eilering

Cleveland, OH

APT RESIDENCE!

My idea of the perfect family:

Dad—Warren Zevon

Mom—Patti Smith

Brother—Anton Fier

Sister—Syd Straw

Uncle—Robyn Hitchcock

Aunt—Vanessa Driscol

Grandma & Grandpa—Elvis & Priscilla (not necessarily in that order)

Jan Brady

Dead wood, TX

BEASTIES, ZIFFLE UNRELATED

I’m sick and tired of all the hype surrounding the Beastie Boys. Hype is all these three little no-talent pigs will ever amount to. I can’t believe they have the nerve to compare themselves to Led Zeppelin. Try as they may, they will never succeed. It makes me sick to think about them going around and defaming Zep; that’s what I see them as doing. For them to attempt to be like they think Zep was (based on the book The Hammer Of The Gods) makes them look ridiculous. That book is based on crap like them. They do not understand what Zep was about or represents. There will only be one Zep and no one can copy them— their music or mystique. Zep was never slimy, unlike the Beasties. Zep was and is a classic band, something the Beasties will never be. To make matters worse, they have the gall to steal music from other bands (Zep included). If I were a remaining member of Zep, you better believe I’d sue these jerks. Fortunately, I’ve never had the “pleasure” of listening to their music, but I’m sure it’s all crap (except for the parts they "lifted” from other bands). The Beasties need to be put in their place—the garbage can.

Caroline Branson

Washington, D.C.

INGRATE!

I just thought I’d write and say thanks for the CD player. It’s the best thing that’s happened to my music collection in years. My family and I really enjoy it.

I am sorry I wasn’t more alert on the phone when you called to tell me I won CREEM’s “Pick For ’87” contest. You caught me completely off guard and I had forgotten that I entered. This is the first contest I have ever won so I usually don’t expect much when I enter.

Again, thank you very much.

Steve Prinsen

Rochester, NY

(So you’re not mad that we rigged it to blow up your house and 12 surrounding city blocks?—Ed.)

NO CURE FOR SURE

I’m writing in response to Joe Salerno’s mindboggling letter in your May issue about how good old fun-loving REO Speedwagon are far superior to the Cure. I was going to write a “you sniveling wretch” letter, but I figure if he likes REO better than the Cure, that’s his funeral. I would add, however, that selfindulgency has its merits, particulary if the alternative is homogenizing one’s music into generic blandness to meet the tastes of as many people as possible (the guilty know who they are).

My main bone of contention with Joe, however, is his dubious assertion that "Rock + Roll = Fun.” Rock music can (and indeed, should!) cover a wide spectrum of subjects and emotions, and confining the music’s purpose to merely providing “fun” is shockingly narrowminded. There is more to life than cruising around having a good time, or so I’m told, and it is occasionally interesting to hear about it.

I would further suggest to Joe that making judgements about other people’s use of drugs based on what kind of music they like is rather unwise. I do agree, however, that Robert Smith couldn’t sing REO’s “Sweet Time”—he’d be laughing too hard.

Nancy Oblock

Kirkland, WA

CONVOLUTED PLAN IS WORKING!

Congratulations, CREEM! Your magazine and its readers have succeeded in taking the most talented, hard-working, entertaining band in rock ’n’ roll— R.E.M.—and turning them into teeny bopper idols!

Gross!

You will all gnash your teeth and burn in the fires of hell!

Dorothy Wallace

Brightwaters, NY

“BRUCE” A FLAWED NAME ANYWAY

Bruce Willis reminds me of a television actor who has been told he has charisma. Unfortunately, the impressionable Mr. Willis has also been told he could sing.

He sounds like someone who impressed so many people with his mimicry of Aretha’s “Respect” on an episode of his TV show that he was allowed into a recording studio full of back-patting (and well-paid) session musicians, to cut an entire album without ever having to sing. His voice is shallow and shaky-kneed. No videos can help.

It’s nice you’re a fan of good music, Bruce, but so are a lot of people. Please stop. I’m so embarrassed for you.

A Concerned Citizen

M. Fikes

Jordan, NY

P.S.: Whatever happened to ol’ Peter Townshend? Is it true that he’s now a corporate executive who golfs and plays with a mariachi band on weekends?

P.P.S.: TO ALL FATASS RECORD COMPANIES: If Warren Zevon still hasn’t got a record contract, please GIVE HIM ONE.

P.P.P.S.: Thanks for letting me out.