Lick Us Back

Readers Responses

Word to the Scott,
I can’t fucking bowl to save my life, but dollar beers help me to pretend. All summer long, I’ve been hitting the Orchid Bowl on Sunday nights with the drunks known to most as Nerf Herder; although last week Parry skipped out to go see Hanson play in Los Angeles (he was on the list, of course). I think the whole bowling thing started as a way for Steve and Parry to bond with their new bandmates Dave (guitar) and Pete (bass). Dave is a Santa Barbara punk rock legend, having played in Penis Brigade back in the day; the band whose singer, Pauly Penis, tragically bled to death after crashing through a sliding glass door while on acid (hence the lyrics to the Nerf Herder song “Sorry”). Pete used to be in Ten Foot Pole and can make weird animal noises and stuff.

Speaking of drinking with punkers; Joey (Lagwagon/My Records) was in town the other day and we had adult beverages at the Press Room and the Sportsman (bars and the dumb names they come up with!) then we went to Steve’s new bachelor pad to drink after hours. When not playing drums in the Herder, Steve is busy adding to his enormous collection of Pez dispensers, as well as cultivating Vodka snobbery. I can’t get ahead myself, no thanks to my growing obsession with Spice Girls propaganda; fuckin’ pop culture! Oh yeah, did you ever get the new MY RECORDS stuff I sent you (Happy Meals Vol. 2 and the Armchair Martian EP, Monsters Always Scream), and the ’80s metal tribute compilation Mëtal Rüles? Please give them a spin and review ’em if possible.
Thanks. Cheers,
Marko 72 (guy who occasionally does something)

Emailed from Holley-Navarre Middle School
RAP RULES!!!!!!! You’re a marlyn manson wannabe. You whaked out site. Later skinheads.
anonymous

Subject: HAHAHA
Hey, I was just at your website and clicked on the “go far away” button to see where it would go, and that was so fucking funny!!!! Thanks for the laugh!
Mike

Dear Scott,
Hello again from Archenemy. I hope the times are treating you well and that the weather hasn’t put a damper on your spirits. Thanks very much for the Turkish Delight review. It was enjoyed by all. It was quite different from the other reviews we’ve received. Cheers for your originality…
Anthony D. Norton

[Um, I think that’s a polite way of saying I flailed about in someone else’s kiddie pool, but the photos came out nice. – ed.]

You like us, you really, really like us!!!
Subject:(no subject) [Huh, know the feeling… – ed.]
Hey, I just wanted to say that Lollipop Magazine is a great thing in a short history of great things. It may even be a Generational Archetype, if that image doesn’t give you too many nightmares and bed-wetting experiences. I picked up my first issue over three years ago in Northhampton, it was one of the first issues actually, I don’t remember which one but it had a purple cover and I had a subscription for a year but then I just kind of lazed out and forgot about Lollipop. I was very pleased when I found you guys online tonight after all this time. It’s just gotten better and better. I am going to resubscribe soon, whenever I get around to buying a stamp.Great job, don’t listen to all the bullshit.
Joe Durwin

“Ah, I loved ur book review [retro hell, issue no. 42]… Lollipop is boy genius.”
Big indulgent zinester kisses,
Ben is Dead

To: scott@lollipop.com (Lollipop Magazine)
Subject: Re: yer opinion, please
Scott,What can I say that hasn’t been said before, it’s a good piece (“No Assembly Required,” see page 162), y’know? The thing is the major label shell game is pretty much just that and they don’t seem to care if we know or not (in fact, that “fashionable irony” stance that was goin’ around for a while mainstreamed to the point where it permeated down to their level like “Hi, I work for Warner Bros records and I know how much we suck, but haveya heard the new release by…”), so when ya get into the critting of the biz, well, there’s some naivete at work, maybe even worthy of MaxR’n’R (y’know how the editorial staff gives the impression that they think life is already some punkrock anarchist utopia until monster coporate oligarchy rears it’s ugly head and shoves that new Bad Religion disc in their face and all the little punkers scream and bitch about how fuckin’ oppressive this capitalist system is until they listen to the stupid record – maybe on the can, or in a closet, thru headphones, so none of the other stinky vegans in their “commune” know the betrayl they’re commiting, so then Crusty realizes “hey, dis ain’t great, but it’s still cooler than that last 7Seconds album”). Nah, you’re not that bad (seriously, I actually consider you sorta savvy in your own jaded way), but even I wonder about it when I write these sorta pieces (“Jesus Christ, I sound like that general who was calling up and complaining about the Japanese planes bombing Pearl Harbor cuz they were interrupting his golf game, I mean at that point, if I haven’t put two and two together and realized my whole fleet’s sinking into the mud, maybe I oughtta stay and work on eliminating my slice, I’ve totally lost control of where I was going with that analogy, but hey, I’ve never golfed or served in the military, so what do I know?”). Back to the piece, run it, it’s well written and it’s got a couple of yucks. Entertainment, my friend, it’s music and entertainment. The only advice I can offer is dump the disclaimer, go down in flames or don’t go at all.
Jon Sarre

Lollipop,
Congratulations on your new thick, quarterly issue. As a zine editor/publisher of an annual publication with a full time job myself, I can appreciate your achievement.

But alas, I am not writing to convince you how great you are, but to respond to a criticism in your zine review of Rude International #1 on page 44 of issue 44. My actual concern is not with your opinion of that magazine, as everyone is entitled to an opinion of a publication if they read it (though you mistakenly credit it as Mighty Mighty Bosstone Nate Albert’s publication, when it is actually Bosstone Tim Burton’s baby.) It’s your criticism of the ska fan.

“I don’t mean to be overly critical of Rude… because it’s an overall dilemma; the majority of people into ska music can’t write an I.O.U. without a few spelling mistakes. Happy people do not make good writers. Bottom line.” I assume you base the first part of this arching criticism of people who love ska music on your exposure to ska zines and the ska audiences at shows: they are young. I’ll accept your exaggeration of spelling an I.O.U. as a literary device. As a ska fan, I have professed to having a sense of humor…

“Happy people do not make good writers. Bottom line.” Ummmm, no. Do angry assholes make better writers? Maniacally depressed grunge kids make better writers? If you’re trying to imply that ska is a simplistic, happy-go-lucky music like the mainstream enjoys doing, I’d have to contradict you. This assumption is born out of ignorance of the music and culture, a lack of respect for youth and those involved and a generally snobby attitude all-too-common in butt-rockers, alterna-geeks, and those suave “angry writers.” Your apparent disrespect for an entire genre that has a very significant foothold in your own backyard makes me question why anyone involved in this music would want to advertise with you or encourage you to cover their stuff. While in the short term all press is good press, in the long term to encourage festering assholes to spread ignorant snobbery is in the end detrimental to the future of the genre. Enclosed are my own zine, the People’s Ska Annual, and another, Skatastrophe, only two of many fine ska publications today which contradict your harsh assumptions. (Well, I hope my zine does that, I’ll leave that to you to judge!)

In all fairness as a disclaimer, I must state that my day job is working for a ska record label. As a passionate fan of ska for over 15 years now, I have a vested interest in seeing the continued growth of this seemingly oft-maligned music.

Feel free to publish this letter, and respond to it in your own witty, “angry writer” fashion.
Sincerely,
Noah Wildman

• Noah,

 

The thing I like best about your letter (aside from the fact that I said something that compelled you take action) is the fact that you actually prove a point of mine. You’re angry. And the letter’s well-written. Unfortunately, I have to stand by my opinion that happy people don’t make good writers. While being a miserable sonuvabitch won’t necessarily make you a good writer, it’s a place to start. Depression induces lethargy, anger induces action, and happiness induces the craving for more happiness. I’ve had this conversation with others, and while they don’t believe this as vehemently as I do, this is my damn letter. Happiness is self-fulfilling. Once happy, there’s little reason to do much other than seek more happiness. I obviously speak from an outsider’s point of view on the subject. Anger, or more accurately, dissatisfaction, leads to action. Such as writing a letter to the editor. On the topic of my understanding/appreciation of ska music, both personally and professionally, allow me mention that I’ve been (on and off) a fan of ska since I heard my first Specials record in 1987. I’ve watched it through many phases, seen many knock-off bands get popular, struggled to find obscure releases in stores where they look at me funny when I mention Prince Buster, and enjoyed the energy, the spirituality, and the commendable talent of many of the musicians. I’ve also heard innumerable shit bands who obviously grew up on ska, not the roots of ska, and are embarrassingly thrown in the same category. Similar to what happened with punk and is now happening with rockabilly and swing. To accuse me of not understanding ska means I have yet to dazzle you with my knowledgeable, entertaining, and somewhat witty ska reviews. To accuse Lollipop of not getting behind ska means I have yet to find a single writer (not just a passable reviewer, nor a journalistic twat who thinks themselves capable of writing up anything from school board meetings to soccer matches to death metal CDs – I mean a writer, one who goes through life reviewing, assimilating, and cataloguing everything they come into contact with: every smell, every sound, every reaction they have to the outside world, every reaction the outside world has to them, every feeling they have that catches them off-guard, every “natural instinct” they have that they cannot trace back to a specific origin, every everything that goes on around them and in them) who can crank out well-written, thoughtful, enjoyable ska reviews as quickly as y’all can release records. And it’s not as if I haven’t tried. I’m in the low double digits of come-and-gones, and I’m still looking for writers who can capture the enjoyment, the soul, and the skillfulness of many ska bands in words, and get the review in on time.

And man, you down even want to get into the advertising debate with me. I get shit for money out of ska, but I print reviews because I think there are some damn fine bands out there. The same goes for any genre I think Lollipop readers would be interested in. We review stuff because it matters, it inspires us (whether it be enlightenment or rage that is the result), and we want to pass our discovery along to others. I won’t stop reviewing Moon Ska CDs as long as you keep sending them. I won’t stop calling you (Steve, actually) for ads, because I think you should advertise. And if you do book an ad (after how many issues and how many phone calls and how many hoops I have to jump through?) and that ad never comes in despite another dozen phone calls saying so, hey, we’ll still review your CDs. Many of them are good. And that’s what it’s all about.
Scott Hefflon

And People Think We’re Weird… Start Date varies, Star Struck, Always

To: goodship@lollipop.com
Subject: school project
Hi! my name is Allison and I’m doing a school project called a museum box. I’m suposed to research a event or person (Shirley Temple) and create a box of 10-15 items. One of these items must be an interview with someone relating to your topic. I was hoping that you could give me some information about what it was like to be a child star. I hope that you will respond by April 29.
Thank you.
Allison

To: goodship@lollipop.com
Dear Shirley Temple Black,
You are my favorite Star. I have had pictures of you hanging on my wall ever since I was a kid. You were in Sacramento during my birthday one year signing your book and my sister never told me. I got your book for my birthday but I realy regret not being able to have you sign my book. I have always been told that I look alot like you. I even have a small mouth just like yours and curly hair. I feel as if I am your number 1 fan and I would love to meet you one day. Happy Birthday and best wishes.

P.S. Could you please send me an autographed picture of you. Since I missed your book signing. Thank you so much.
A devoted #1 fan forever,
Deda Bown

To: goodship@lollipop.com
Subject: Are You/Do you know.
Shirley? I’m looking for “THE REAL” Shirley Temple. I’m currently making a ST doll and wondered about her and the popularity of her dolls, and her feelings of them. Maybe she’d be interested in my finished product. Can you help? It would be appreciated.
Diane B.

To: goodship@lollipop.com
Subject: You
Dear Ms. Shirley Temple Black,
Did you really meet the President of Egypt? That’s what I read about you. I think you are so cool! When I gave a speech about you in school, I dressed in a long skirt and a black blouse. Did you ever wear what I dressed in? Happy late birthday!!! I wish I could have e-mailed you sooner, but I was busy. Did you really have a stable with two ponies? What were their names? I want to know because I love riding horses. Did you have any other animals besides ponies? I am nine years old, and I go to school in Pacific Grove, California. I know that you are busy, but try to answer me please. Oh, how will I know that it is really you?
Sincerely, Jennifer Yumiko Taylor

Beer and groping in Las Vegas…
You really don’t have to pickle yourself with vodka tonics and other assorted treats to feel the wrath of three days in Las Vegas. You don’t even need to gamble to lose a grip of cash in that city that has more distractions than a silver ball in a pachinko machine. I muscled 3 days in Vegas with a total of about 12 hours sleep without the aid of methamphetamines. I’m getting older and I’m not as resilient as I used to be, but I survived a triathalon of gambling, boozing and schmoozing at the EAT’M (Emerging Artists and Talent in Music) conference this past weekend. Sure, I’m still trying to acclimate to my 50+ hour work week right now, and sure my wallet mocks me, but it was worth it.

EAT’M, which included seminars with guest speakers in the music industry also showcased over 150 artists at different venues in the city. One of those musical acts included Pinch Hit artist evenrude (http://www.evenrude.com). Oh yeah, you’ve heard about them before. You know, the band with a bundle of charisma and a penchant for intriguing trysts with lustful ladies. Yes, of course, evenrude! evenrude performed on the first evening of EAT’M at Gameworks on the Strip. Gameworks isn’t a music venue at all. It’s a huge video game arcade… on acid. evenrude’s set time was at 9:30pm and they were competing with the final episode of Seinfeld. That didn’t seem to deter many people from catching a good dose of evenrude. By the way, am I the only one who thought that was a terrible Seinfeld episode? evenrude performed amid an intent crowd and completed their condensed, yet infectious, set shortly before 10pm. I was already several cocktails into my evening but still very alert and anxious to carry the party to another spot. I looked around and noticed the usual pack of women leering seductively in the direction of Chris, Cake, Dave and Greg as they socialized after the set. It’s usually the guys in the band that seem to walk away with the gorgeous women. I sometimes wait patiently for evenrude to throw me scraps, but tonight my dialogue is sharp and I look like a pimp. No one can resist.

At about 5am I found myself at Hard Rock Casino bar bottoming up another SKYY concoction with a couple friends, a few writers and a dash of record label execs who have impressed me with their revelrous vigor. I’m not sure where evenrude had gone to but I knew they had to wake up early to catch a gig in Phoenix the next day. By the way, I also do most of evenrude’s booking but it wasn’t intentional that I put them on the road right after their EAT’M show so I’d have a better chance to visit a woman’s hotel room… really!

At about 7:00 am I found myself in another woman’s hotel room with my two friends and another two women. It must have been the exhaustion of pretending to work, but I guess I passed out on my intended female counterpart. My friends said they CAUGHT me cuddling. There’s no room for sensitive guys in the ’90’s, is there? Well, the next two nights were much of the same with a view slight variations. EAT’M was great. I kind of forgot its whole purpose, but it was great. I’ll be there next year. Look for me. I’ll be the Don Juan with a vodka tonic in one hand and, uh, I guess another vodka tonic in the other.
Try,
Mike Naylor
Pinch Hit Records

[A very cleverly masked pitch letter. (I wish more publicists wrote like this, but then again, I wish more publicists would choke and die on all their own bullshit.) – ed.]

One Down…
Subject: To Scott…
Hey, it’s Jill Hagara! As for a tearsheet of belle academe, that would be wonderful. And as of that project, I am so OVER doing publicity for a living! I think I’m done. I’m actually going for a job interview today for a bartender gig! Just trying something different. Getting out of the ratrace thing for awhile. Who knows what the hell I’ll be doing. But I wanted to write you a note to say thank you for all your help and I hope that you stay in touch from time to time… Hell, you just never know. I may end up in publicity somewhere again.

But – maybe I’ll be one of the lucky ones and never return!
Thanks!
Jill

Two Down…
From: Debra Brennan
Subject: Guh-bye.
Surprise – the rumor is true. As of Friday, 7-31, I’m leaving Sire Records, the music industry, and Los Angeles. Okay, so it’s not exactly at the top of the rumor mill, but let me live in my fantasy land. I’m leaving it all behind for a normal life (horror!) in Dallas, TX (ohmigod… how will I ever get on the list?). If you really like me a lot (aren’t you sweet!) and want to keep in touch with me in my new life (but wait… is that allowed?), feel free to contact me @ the info below… If you still have Cary Baker or Lisbeth Cassady on your list, please delete them as well. And if you have Brian Bumbery and/or Trevor Seamon on your list, you’re just not paying attention.
Good luck with everything positive that comes your way!