THE COUNTRY ISSUE IS OUT NOW!

September 1988

Contents

ROCK 'N' ROLL NEWS

Poison, as always, is blowing everyone’s mind—with the possible exception of their former representatives over at Sanctuary Music, a Los Angeles-based publicity firm, who’re suing the lovable scamps for 45.5 million bucks! Seems that “the drugs and alcohol they began to ingest with alarming frequency” did real bad things to the personalities of the otherwise adorable foursome.

Creem Profiles

ROBYN HITCHCOCK

(Pronounced “Boy Howdy!”)

LETTERS

Please give your readers some information on Queensryche. They have been out of the spotlight for a long time. Are they still together? Please give their fans some information on what’s happening. Terry Coble Wilmington, NC (No problem. What’s Happening, one of-the finest blaxploitation sitcoms, ran for three years on ABC-TV. A recent syndicated update; What’s Happening Now did not, unfortunately, use Queensryche’s original theme song—Ed.)

ELEGANZA

George Smith

Going all the way back to 1970, it’s difficult to think of a single American hard rock band with the kind of credibility that British heavyweights like Sabbath and Zep commanded. Ya could point to Blue Cheer and Grand Funk, but Funk were always considered pretty much a joke whose following seemed to be a function of some massive marijuana-induced group psychosis while Blue Cheer were far too flaky and erratic to sustain a career.

THE PONTIAC BROTHERS SUPPERTIME BLUES

Ara Corbett

You gotta love ’em. During their recent noontime set at UCLA’s West Los Angeles campus, the Pontiac Brothers appealed not only to the laid-back lunch crowd but to a group of grade schoolers who happened by during a field trip. Matt Simon, the Pontiacs’ lead singer, called to the kids, offering them some cookies. Three of ’em braved it and ran up to the stage, grabbed a handful, and ran off to the amusement of both the band and the sunbathing crowd.

Georgia Satellites AIN'T JUST WHISTLIN' DIXIE

Michael Lipton

"Don’t give me no lines and keep your hands to yourself..." That vocal line and the accompanying guitar lick gnawed its way through my skull and burrowed into my brain. Disc jockeys on the radio and in clubs ran it into the ground. Hundreds of bad bar bands added it to their repertoire.

Lynyrd Skynyrd: The Quality Goes In Before The Name Goes On

Tom Nordlie

I can vaguely remember walking into first-period Spanish class one October morning when I was in the 10th grade and hearing the news of the Lynyrd Skynyrd plane crash.

RECORDS

David Sprague

It’s like... It’s as if... I’ve just been jumped by a crazed horde of nerdedelic hodads, stoned out on Jolt cola and chemically-treated Fruit Roll-Ups, all waving day-glo hardbound copies of Tammy Faye Bakker’s latest book, Secrets Of Make-Up And Shopping for God.

ROCK-A-RAMA

Like a lot of English pop bands, the Jesus and Mary Chain has been a great singles group whose albums have always fallen short. Thus, it’s no surprise that their finest long-player yet is actually a collection of 45-only tunes, B-sides and home demos.

Features

Iggy Pop: Animal Instincts

Vicki Arkoff

“C’mon, I’m on acid,” Iggy whines. "Can’t we talk about something else?”

Features

The Rod Stewart Interview

David Sprague

So Rod Stewart’s back, huh?

Thelonious Monster HOLLYWOOD BABBLIN'

Steve Appletord

Zelda was nervous as hell. Riding in the back of the rumbling Condo-On-Wheels with a small crowd of eating, drinking, smoking and sleeping human-types, the lean walnut-colored canine paced nervously, dodging knitting needles and falling burrito wrappers.

The Beat Gose On

Michael Corcoran

Since Willie Nelson stopped hosting Fourth of July Picnics (and not because of ants: the last one in ’85 lost $200,000) Austin’s biggest and best annual outdoor music-athon has been the T-Bird Riverfest on Memorial Day. Though only six years old, the event is already bathed in tradition.

CREEMEDIA

Steve Peters

I’m not exactly sure what happened, but the guy who stands to greet me as I enter the publicist’s office can’t be Bob Goldthwait. I mean, he kinda looks like Bob (“Bobcat” to his friends, fans and pets), but the long, straight mane of hair he sported on a couple of cable specials and a recent spoof of Bono in Rolling Stone has been mercilessly cropped, and the calm voice and friendly handshake could hardly belong to the manic comedian whose tense onstage delivery is punctuated with the trembling, high-strung whines of someone whose psychological roller coaster is about to jump the tracks.

Media Cool

David Sprague

One day last week, my life was enlivened by 7-Up Gold and Kiss Double Platinum. Tho’ the disc package didn’t quite alleviate the bad taste Gene Simmons & Co. leave in my mouth, the six-pack o’ 7-Up Gold sure did. Nowhere near as sickly sweet as the company’s regular product, this richly-colored brew reminds me of nothin’ so much as that nectar o’ the Midwest—Vernor’s Ginger Ale.

Screenbeat Comfortably Dumb

Vicki Arkoff

It’s not likely to sweep the Oscars this year, but wouldn’t it be nice if Penelope Spheeris’ Decline Of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years were to be nomitated for “Best Documentary To Bite The Hand...” or some such category? To prove that lightning can strike twice, Spheeris decided to risk a sequel to her original Decline (about the L.A. punk scene circa 1979 with Black Flag, X, the Germs and Fear).

BYKER CHIC BYKER CHIC BYKER CHIC

Vicki Arkoff

Sheesh. What a grotty bunch of grebos, these Gaye Bykers On Acid. Have you ever seen such a filthy lot? Besides Zodiac Mindwarp that is, and Pop Will Eat Itself and... Anyway, these grease-mongers are responsible for the wonderfully crass pop sounds on their grungy debut LP Drill Your Own Hole—the first British pressings of which required its listeners to do just that in order to give the disc a spin.

Tech Talk

Steve Peters

It isn’t hard to picture Thomas Dolby as a young lad growing up in his native England, hovering intently over a kiddie chemistry set and patiently mixing stuff in hopes that something might combust. The 29-year-old keyboardist was just a face in the crowd when a pack of new wave synth-brats invaded our shores a few years back, but his 1983 debut EP and subsequent album, The Golden Age Of Wireless, quickly distinguished Dolby from his fellow somber Brits as—gasp!— an Englishman with a sense of humor, a notion that was reinforced by the mad scientist image he cultivated for the cover of Wireless and the video for his loopy dance hit “She Blinded Me With Science.”

NEW BEATS

C. Capulet

If a building collapses, it makes sense to try to build a better one, right? The thought must’ve passed through Gina Schock’s mind as the Go-Go’s, the all-female quintet she had played drums with for nearly a decade, began to crumble with the departure of guitarist Jane Wiedlin.

Backstage

Backstage

Where the Stars Tank Up & Let Their Images Down