Lollipop

Lollipop vs. Lollipop

Sucked In, Blown Out (Amphetamine Reptile)
by Nik Rainey

Goddamn.

If I didn’t give much creedence to conspiracy theories and shadowy figures withholding world-altering information before, I’m David fucking Duchovny without the monotone now.

Here’s the scoop: there’s a band out there, on the world-renowned Amphetamine Reptile label, a demented, hellbent-for-pleather kinda garage-punk quartet, and their name happens to be the same as ours. A strange coincidence, no question, particularly when you consider what a singularly inappropriate name Lollipop is for either us or them. Sure, there’s the time-honored phallic symbolism of the name, the whole lick ‘n’ suck thing, but that doesn’t quite wash – in purely semantic terms, it’s one of those words that sounds a little too cutesy, too cloying. To look at the grimy, long-haired gang that makes up Lollipop (the band) or the pasty-faced, bad-complected unshaven little walking hangovers that comprise Lollipop (the magazine) is to see that the name doesn’t even fit in terms of the flakiest irony – it’s just flat-out wrong.