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JUNE 1985

Creem Contents

MAIL

I was quite disappointed with the way you printed a small part of my interview dated: CREEM, March ’85, Vol. 16, No. 10 out of context with the rest; in a boxed headline—and omitted certain words, making it seem like a total put-down on Motley Crue and Ratt.

Christgau Consumer Guide

ROBERT CHRISTGAU

On the recordings of Paul Berliner and elsewhere I’ve always found the African thumb piano—mbira, kalimba sanza—overly delicate, fragile as a music box. These experimental compositions by a Camerounian musicologist who calls on a wide range of supplementary African instruments and techniques, are lithe and lovely.

Rock 'n' Roll News

Rock ’n’ Roll High School? Surely R.J. Reynolds High in Winston-Salem, N.C., can lay claim to the honor—they recently filled the old auditorium for a show featuring Let’s Active, the dB’s and Chris Stamey—proud Carolinan acts all. Stamey and his drummer, Ted Lyons, Will Rigby, Peter Holsapple and Gene Holder of the dB’s and Mitch Easter and Faye Hunter of Let’s Active are all graduates of R.J.R.H.S., too.

Creem Profiles

LITA FORD

(Pronounced “Boy Howdy!”)

EARTHQUAKE IN CHILI

Richard Fantina

NEW YORK—Like their namesake food, there is nothing subtle about The Red Hot Chili Peppers. And like the spicy little devils, the band is a decidedly acquired taste. A weird hybrid of rap/funk and metal/punk, the band calls their music “bone crunching mayhem funk.”

HONEYMOON SUITE, EH?

Mark J. Norton

DETROIT—“I consider us neither new wave, nor heavy metal,” quips Honeymoon Suite songwriter/guitarist Derry Grehan. The authors eagerly nod in agreement. “We are power pop heavy metal,” Derry continues. “We’re not heavy metal. We’re not pop.

BRANCA SCHOEN

Richard Chon

ANN ARBOR, MI—Like the spirit of rock ’n’ roll itself, Glenn Branca could only have come from that brutal, sweet land of mad poets, the good ole U. S. of A. Like Walt Whitman and Iggy Pop before him, this composer of guitar symphonies is one of those self-styled primitives, an avatar of the barbaric yawp, and tonight in Detroit he even looks the part.

KEENE IS KEEN!

Drew Wheeler

NEW YORK—Like an elephant, Kruschev or Pepperidge Farm, Tommy Keene remembers. He remembers the pulse quickening pop songs of then and now—and he remembers that great music is made by inspired individualists, not re-hash artists. While Tommy Keene’s streamlined pop stylings may offer brief glimmers of anybody from the Grass Roots to Mott The Hoople to Robyn Hitchcock, comparisons are a deadend.

SOUND OFF

John Neilson

NEW YORK—How’s your memory? Can you recall the ragged end of the ’70s, the apprehension anyone with brains felt at Reagan’s election, and the uncertainty inherent in the arrival of Orwell’s decade? The Sound do. Although many of their contemporaries have mutated into dance fodder—Joy Division as the increasingly homogenized New Order, the Cure most dramatically, and the Comsat Angels least sucessfully—the Sound have remained remarkably true to their sound and vision.

Julian Lennon Comes Of Age

Liz Derringer

It is a brisk November day and the Hard Rock Cafe is bursting with wall-to-wall anticipation. He comes in unnoticed at first, surrounded by bodyguards. It isn’t until he reaches the balcony and turns to say hello that everyone realizes he has arrived.

BANGLES FOR SALE

Iman Lababedi

At the CBS building in Manhattan guitarist Susanna Hoffs (all black tights and mini-skirt) explains the Bangles’ modus operandi: “It’s hard to work keeping your sense of humor. Like when you have to get up to do a TV show and you’ve driven for 12 hours with a cold and snot on your face and there’s no water so you can’t wash...”

RIDIN’ THE WILD STAMPEDE! JOHN FOGERTY RETURNS

Ken Settle

John Fogerty is finally back on the front-lines with Centerfield.

MOTORHEAD: LOVING THEM LIKE REPTILES

Richard Riegel

Motorhead are so fucking LOUD my ears are already bolting for the door so they can hop a bus and flee home to the security of my low-watted stereo!

LETTER FROM BRITAIN

Cynthia Rose

Remember that scene in Miami Vice where Sonny watches a two-bit foe depart, grimaces in resignation and growls, “the antidote to civilization”? It popped into my mind just moments ago, as I crouched in front of my two-bar electric fire, watching Wham! replay 1983’s “Club Tropicana” on TV by the dim twilight of winter tea time.

Calender

W.A.S.P.: LAWFUL OR OWFUL?

J. Kordosh

Here’s a thumbnail sketch of Blackie Lawless: his real name is Steve Duran, he’s 28 years old, getting paunchy, sings and plays bass for W.A.S.P. Kind of makes you wish you knew him better, huh? No? Realize that W.A.S.P. ostensibly stands for “We Are Sexual Perverts.”

Features

FOREIGNER FEELS LIKE THE FIFTH TIME!

Sylvie Simmons

There are times when you truly appreciate Foreigner.

Eleganza

THE ROCK SLOBS HALL OF SHAME

John Mendelssohn

Between “I Can’t Explain” and Live At Leeds, I adored the Who as fervently as anyone’s ever adored any rock ’n’ roll act.

THE GOOD OLD DAYS

Richard C. Walls

Scandals just aren’t what they used to be. Not that there aren’t millions (thousands, anyway) of bucks to be made in the field, but the cutting edge has been blunted, the bloom is off the rose. To wit: when Hollywood Babylon, Kenneth Anger’s original collection of scandalous outrages, tragedies, and oddities was published 20-some years ago it was considered a too-hot-to-handle, under-the-counter piece of ultra-sleaze—a bit of a scandal itself.

MICK MARS REVISITED!

L. E. Agnelli

Although it’s rumored that Love Makes the World Go Round, gals in the know will tell you the truth: it’s really Cute Guys! In celebration of this worthy adage, Fran Pelzman and Martha Thomases put their considerable talents of observation, collective living experience and good taste to the wayside and dreamed up the book to beat all Boy George and Michael Jackson bios—namely, Cute Guys: All You Need To Know.

DRIVE-IN SATURDAY

Edouard Dauphin

Think you’ve got problems with your toilet? Maybe you’d like to trade places with the lead character of Ghoulies. He’s got a green, two-foot high beast with sharp teeth who likes to pop out of his commode at the most inopportune times. You might have seen the ads for this film, in which the grotesque monster is shown emerging from the bowl beneath the slogan: “Ghoulies—They’ll get you in the end.”

MEDIA COOL

The sadness in the eyes of Harry Dean Stanton evokes the poignant tone of this film from the outset. As he emerges from a vast desert, woeful and alone, his sorrow is eloquent in its silence. Paris, Texas is the story of a broken life, a shattered family, and a man’s effort to redeem a loss he can hardly comprehend.

Video Video

ROCK ’N’ ROLL: REAL OR FAKE?

Billy Altman

“Just tell me this, all you rock ’n’ roll fans—how would you like to put your little babies down in Duran Duran’s lap?”

CREEM DREEM

MADAM X

Records

VINTAGE VELVETS

Gregg Turner

Lou Reed’s Bob Dylan by way of Chuck Berry and Duane Eddy was indeed something very, very hip.

45 REVELATIONS

Ken Barnes

You might be as sick of hearing (and reading about) Prince as I am, but one thing you’ve got to hand him—and it’s one thing he doesn’t always get credit for. He just may be the best producer around. I'm not sold on his sexual/religious messianic ideology, still think “1999” is about as profound and inspiring a message as “Dust In The Wind,” and find many of his songs tedious in the extreme.

VANNO: THE MOVIE

Mitchell Cohen

One of the smartest things Martin Scorsese did in The King Of. Comedy was bracket it with songs by Ray Charles and Van Morrison. The movie may have had a chilly souilessness, but at either end there were voices that virtually define soul. There’s a direct line between Charles and Morrison, and it’s very evident on A Sense Of Wonder, a record that comes at you with a clear sense of purpose.

THE FARMER & THE COWMAN AT LAST!

Michael Davis

Don’t want to make any rash claims or nuthin’ but I HAVE SEEN THE FUTURE OF MY TURN-TABLE AND IT INCLUDES LOTS OF JASON & THE SCORCHERS. Yup and double yup. Y’ see, during the last couple of years, more and more bands on the post-punk periphery have taken to spicing up their sounds with country flavorings and some of ’em—True West and the Beat Farmers are two that come to mind—seem to be getting their recipes in order.

ROCK-A-RAMA

Powerpop ain’t dead yet, we just didn’t hear from all the provinces during the first go-round. These guys hail from Minnesota’s Twin Cities stronghold, and even though they can’t afford to move into Prince’s purple-lawned neighborhood just yet, they sound like potential airwave contenders.

KISS & TELL

Jaan Uhelszki

Eat and Run: You could say that at least half of the population made Madonna feel right at home in Los Angeles—it was, how-you-say, raining men for the Virginal One. Now, you have to remember this is a woman who changes her men as often as other women change their minds.

Backstage

Backstage

Where the Stars Tank Up & Let Their Images Down