Prelude to a Lick
by Scott Hefflon
photo (upsidedown) by Lars Paul Linden
By the way, this is our SECOND ANNIVERSARY ISSUE. Yup, two years of pumping out opinionated rants on sex, drugs, and occasionally, new releases. We didn’t go putting it on the cover or celebrating the fact that we’re getting old by having ourselves a benefit show because, yawn, I’m sure we care more than you do anyway. The magazine is getting larger, broader in scope, and more freakin’ interactive as time progresses. We have the Lollipop Live Line up and running, and we should have a WEB PAGE up by the time you read this. I can’t tell you where ’cause my partner went to sleep hours ago. It should be linked to other sites and all that networking nonsense.
My oh-so-pertinent quote this month comes from The Vindictives’ The Many Moods of… (Lookout!), whose review evidently didn’t fit this issue. To wit: “Call me irresponsible, throw in undependable, too.” Yeah, so I lived up to the stereotype last month by showing up late and drunk to judge the WBCN Rumble. I was disqualified. Sorry. Doc Hopper won, by the way. Ah yes, punk prevails even in Boston.
Which leads me to my next topic (yeah, like I have an outline in front of me)… What kinda music we cover seems to be a hot topic right now. As an Editor, I’m probably supposed to keep my musical preference out of it and print reviews whether I think the band blows chunks or not. As long as the article is well-written and honest, I usually try to print it. Christ, we did the cranberries. What do you what from me?!? The problem is finding stylish writers who can write up a shitstorm about… pop. I sound like I’m reviewing a school board meeting when I try to review anything without a guitar sound the size of a building or a sneer you could use to cut paper. The judgement of what’s hip, alternative to alternative, and what’s just being packaged that way is always a tough one. What helps is if the writer is just exploding with exciting adjectives, clever metaphors, and other writer-ish cheap shots. If “Mmmm” is a lyric, anything’s possible. What I’m trying to say in my long-winded, beating-around-and-around-the-bush way is: If you’re into Zimbabwean cyber/death/lounge and know how to put pen to paper (or fingers to a keyboard, how un-poetic), perhaps you too could be among the pretentiously prolific people who call themselves reviewers. Your friends all tell you you’re a great writer (that’s why they’re your friends), why not take a stab at being published “for real?” Like this is hard. If you’ve got an area of expertise, show it off a little.
In closing, finally, WE AREN’T COMING OUT AGAIN UNTIL MID-JULY. Is that too subtle? We need a break too. But we’ll be back. Bigger. Wilder. Letting more and more people dance naked on the soap box, issue after issue. Guaranteed.
Have a decadent summer.
Lick me.