One year on, and still ticking (off)!
She begins with an ode to how empowered writing makes her feel (and it's nice to know my inflicting Patti Smith on her had had some effect, in terms of quotation, anyway).
She carries on with derision about some silly proposed US laws, including: one which penalizes not owning guns; two separate state bills covering erections in bars and strip clubs; and, on a related item, attempts to get Virginia's harsh anti-oral-sex laws toned down.
She body-checks the macho brutality of hockedy, as prompted by the incident in which Marty McSorley concussed Donald Brashear (ed. note - he was just found guilty of it, but received no additional punishment, it being ruled his career's essentially being ruined was punishment enough).
She sensibly but frankly explores the guilt of the justice system and Mr. Rudy Giuliani in the death of Amadou Diallo at the hands of NYC cops who have essentially been given permission to shoot first by the ever-so-moral mayor.
She reveals the frightening facts you always suspected were true about little Georgie Bush's Texas - that is is 50th in spending on teachers and 1st in the percentage of children without health insurance, to pick two items at random.
She does more follow-up on Jack Ramsay, a Canadian Alliance (formerly Reform - aren't you Americans glad that the confusion is over? We're not...) MP just convicted of rape, who refuses to step down until all appeals are gone (and, as she has pointed out before, thus contradicts his position on politicians found guilty of serious crimes).
All this and much much more, including some music and book commentaries and a lot of
wonderful quotes. In summation, yet another whip-smart issue from that Reddest of redheads. :)
This is nominally the travel issue, though it, as usual, stuffed with handy sex-positive, anti-beauty-fascism material, including overviews of vibrators and a list of girl-friendly sex stores across America (as you might guess, its take on Cosmogirl, a spin-off from Cosmopolitan with a much less sex-positive viewpoint, is not good).
There's useful info on how/what to pack; bus and bike travelogues; an account of a trip to Greece; a less-than-romantic critique of paris, France; a tell-all about first class flights; an interview with the omnisexual comedienne Margaret Cho; and much, much more, including a few 'zine reviews and many book and record analyses.
It is, to be brief, 112pages of 'tude, sweet 'tude!
Issue #2 of Mr. Kinakin's (aka Faggo's) attempt to provide a forum for diverse 'punk' voices (even finding space for mine, where I rant about my admiration for queens - how bizarre, to quote an irritating dance song I've heard of...).
There's an interview from about 1992 with Jim Yousling, the late editor of the briefly punk-inclusive porn rag In Touch (said chat being conducted by the briefly relevant Bruce LaBruce).
There's a piece about Martin from Los Crudos' new band Limpwrist, which sounds good.
Faggo's fiction(?), 'Taking The Piss', is quite perverse and yet fun at the same time, much like Mitch Fury's 'No Sex in parks'.
LarryBob (my hero!) and Jon Ginoli (from Pansy Division) produce well-thought-out, merciless critiques of contemporary gay and punk culture respectively.
As I've said, it's a wide-ranging, eclectic collection, and well worth the price (and, from a design
point of view, it's nicely put together too).
This describes itself as a 'philosophical porn 'zine about psyche, identity, society and the pose.'
That would be a fairly accurate summation.
There are some pieces here on the nature of the roles we play in everyday life, whether chosen or imposed, written by Rufus and others.
The core of this issue, however, is an interview with Dan, a stripper at the Dufferin Hotel in Vancouver (an establishment that sounds positively charming to me, given its being dubbed as a place full of men with hockey hair and beer bellies - bears! bears! bears! :) ). As I'm actually the only man in the world who has never seen a strip show, I was fascinated by how theatrical and tawdry it all sounded. I confess - I'm a voyeur who never looks, but likes to read about how things look. :)
There's a pornogami insert stapled into the issue, which I haven't tried to assemble yet.
The piece about hustling by Rufus was strangely touching, if also a little disturbing.
The three cartoons included herein are quite amusing - especially the one in which the 'Fukenposerfaggit' tries to hit on the straight-edger by making himself over.
A fun and informative peruse - again, the sort of thing I would recommend...
A personal 'zine, done by a 23-year-old queer girl from North Carolina.
The intro on how introspection changed her life was something to which I could relate a little too much for my own comfort. Like her, I often feel ugly and awkward and have a hard time accepting compliments - but, with an effort, this can be combatted - and I hope Amy works hard on this, because, from what I read in this issue dedicated to concepts of self-love and acceptance, she has a lot to offer and say.
The piece about Maury Povich is so true! While, as it happens, I have generally looked more or less 'normal' for the greater part of my life, I've never had the idea that it was the ONLY way to look, or that kids with bright dyed hair or piercings were somehow evil or inherently troubled.
There's a neat travelogue about going to Salem to try and meet Laurie Cabot, the town's official witch (unsuccessfully).
The profile of Sylvia Plath was well-written and researched.
There is a very painful piece about Amy's late mother, and how her experiences/life cause Amy to worry for a friend of hers who has joined a very strict religion.
There is also a thoughtful editorial on virginity (since I was one until I was 30, I don't think 22 is so unusual. :) ).
This is just some of what's inside this very personal, sometimes a tad disturbing, 'journal'. If you
want an enormous amount of insight and self-analysis, this is your read...
As usual, this is a fairly wide-ranging, informative take on women in rock; however, this time, some stuff really leaps out.
There is a piece which briefly explains who everyone name-checked in Le Tigre's "Hot Topic" is.
There is an interview with Wendy and Lisa, Prince's former guitarist and keyboardist respectively, which reveals they are a couple and promotes their 1998 album Girl Bros, an undeservedly obscure gem.
The article about Vicki Tischer-Blue, former bassist for the Runaways, had the exciting news that she has made an upcoming documentary about the group, "Edgeplay: A Film About the Runaways".
Throw in stuff on the Lunachicks, and some Canadian content by way of Tara McLean - add
some concert and record reviews - and you have another fascinating issue!
This is nominally the body and beauty issue, which Rudy gets at mainly through his interviews, inlcuding one with Bruce LaBruce (his presence probably had something to do with why I got sent a 'complimentary' second copy of this 'zine by a mutual acquaintance of Mr. Labruce and me ;o) ).
His talks with: Cecil Seaskull, solo artist and former Nerdy Girl; Rose McGowan, evidently some big-time actress; and the ska band Dance Hall Crashers were quite informative and had good insights into the beauty myth.
There is some poetry here about racism and fetishism in beauty and fat-phobia, as well as some useful facts about domestic abuse.
These features, plus a heroes/idols Top 20, some reviews, a Cyrus cartoon by Sina that had a
Bear in it, and a loving tribute to his mother who recently had a mild heart attack, make this 'zine
a nice collection of personable, direct writing, smart without being clever-clever.
This nicely bound little journal collects interviews/articles about experimental musicians from a variety of fields and eras, ranging from the neo-classical works of the late, queer Harry Partch(1901-1974), with photographs and detailed descriptions of the instruments he invented to perform his works, to David S. Ware, a free jazz Bear.
The interview with Pere Ubu's David Thomas reveals he is a rather grumpy Bear, but it was still fun and educational to read.
If you want to find out about some on-the-edge musicians, past and present, this is a good place
to start, with clear, unpretentious but intellectually rigorous writing to boot, that manages to
avoid sounding like artists' statements or grant proposals to peers, which any number of pieces
I've read before about the avant-garde smack of.
The cover is very nice, if verging on something our border boys scream at and then burn - a handsome, teasingly-close-to-revealing-his-genitalia Otter (a hairy but slim cousin to the Bear). However, this was not the only reason I bought it.
I had sent Mr. Brass a review of an earlier work, and he plugged this one (what indie self-publisher wouldn't?!).
It's an erotic fantasy/mystic piece about some decidedly earthly angels, Tommy and Bert (who have been a couple in an open relationship for a very, very long time) and their adventures in sex and combating homophobia/gentrification (not only the ANGELS live on - at least one 'demon' has followed them through time).
Along the way, we learn much of their past identities and philosophies. This is decidedly NOT just a fuckbook - it is moving and tender, though not afraid to be controversial or transgressive in its way.
It will work as one-handed reading...but applying the other head to it is rewarding too...
This is the size and layout of a big graphic novel (since it was designed and illustrated by Dave McKean, who worked on the Sandman comics by Neil Gaiman, this should not be overly surprising), and it suits the contents, as many aspects of the life of John Cale, co-founder of the Velvet Underground and solo artist/producer, are cartoonish in a dark way.
This book covers his life up until 1997 - and what a life! His early brushes with celebrities of the avant-garde music scene, such as Yoko Ono, LaMonte Young and even Leonard Bernstein; a love-hate relationship with Lou Reed; adventures with drugs, alcohol and nightmare marriages; and so much more.
It is surprisingly brief on both Nico and Andy Warhol - in fact, John barely reflects the fact that he and Nico had a relationship of sorts, and this is very much on the public record. However, given that Cale reveals he spent some time between 1973 and 1975 trying to find Edie Sedgwick (d. 1971), it is possible his memory was affected by a dissolute life. He is very loving towards his late colleague, Sterling Morrison; cautious about Patti Smith; and brief about Jonathan Richman.
In the end, the book is revealing and honest, and nice to look at.
Cale is not always admirable - but he had nerve and vision, and this book brims with both.
This is a labour of love - god knows it would have to be, since the possibility of riches flowing from it are no more guaranteed for the author than for the artists profiled therein (though it got me to buy one of the CDs mentioned, and has inspired me to consider getting another one, so perhaps I'm wrong).
What it is is a collection of pieces about various obscure, 'outsider' artists in music. Some are 'outside' by virtue of odd ideas and approaches, despite being talented musicians and conceptualists (neo-classical composer Harry Partch and jazz pioneer Robert Graettinger); some are loveable eccentrics (BJ Snowden, an African-American chanteuse/keyboardist; Lucia Pamela, a 90-something one-woman swing/klezmer combo from outer space; and the late Tiny Tim)'; some have mental health issues and create/d art of varying levels of tolerability despite them (Daniel Johnston, Wild Man Fischer, Skip Spence, Syd Barrett, Wesley Willis); and some are more difficult to completely love or evaluate the reality levels of (Jandek, The Legendary Stardust Cowboy, The Shaggs).
What I particularly admire about this book is its wide-ranging scope, even touching on the grim Victorian musical theatre of the 19th Century Cherry Sisters and the bad opera singer Florence Foster Jenkins, who may have been among the first truly camp performers, paving the way for the DelRubio Triplets years later.
In addition to the main articles, there are brief synopses of other bizarre music-makers (breakers?) in the world, and a bibliography/Webography on some individuals.
At the back of the book, there is a CD being hawked, featuring some of the artists profiled. It
can be obtained for $10 US from Which Records? , P.O. Box 659 village Station, NYC, 10014,
USA. Perhaps I'll take the chance some dark moonless night...
As perhaps the most ambitious book about Jonathan Richman, founder of the Modern Lovers and solo artist of varying degrees of popularity, this volume has done an invaluable service for we younger fans of JoJo.
Since Jonathan is loath to discuss his personal life, Mitchell had his work cut out for him, deciding to focus on the music and the touring and the musicians Jonathan has worked with (while Jonathan would not cooperate, he also did not actively hinder, unlike, oh, Patti Smith).
One review I read suggested this book was entirely too reverential, and didn't dig up the dirt. Since most accounts here suggest Jonathan is a pretty sincere, straight-ahead fellow, there just may not have been much. There is the revelation of Jonathan's pursuit of Gail, his probably former wife, while she was still married; and, reading between the lines, the way in which Jonathan broke up the Modern Lovers on the verge of success shows that he may not have been thinking all that much of his bandmates' futures - but it was his band and his songs, and, if he didn't feel comfortable pursuing the direction that had brought them to the edge of stardom, surely he was within his rights to put a halt to it.
While Jonathan may not be all that famous anymore, he is still making joyful, enthusiastic music
that comes directly from his heart, and this book is but one document of the love he deserves on
so many levels.
This is nominally a work of science fiction, and it can certainly be appreciated on that level alone, but there is a bit more to it than that.
It is the story of Sam, an earthling in the far future (a future in which we gather the Earth has effected hostile takeovers of various cultures - more on this a bit later...) who travels to the water planet Octavia, whose occupants sound like octopi, to teach the 'English virus', fleeing a broken relationship and a past as a sort of wrestler.
While there, Sam and his colleagues manage to fall in love and learn all about the truly insidious nature of cultural/linguistic imperialism (as I've said, this book has more on its plate than just space opera).
What I truly admire about this book is its clear but meaningful language and dialogue. Jim has a good ear for these things, and manages to get complex ideas across with flair and precision.
I must confess the ending puzzled me a bit - I don't want to give it away, of course, but it seemed rushed, or as though I missed something. In retrospect, I can see one or two little clues as to where it would go, but it still knocked me for a loop initially. However, that aside, I found this a very entertaining and thought-provoking read.
