ROCK MAGAZINES: All Washed Up!
Looks like it’s that time of year again, cowpokes! Birdies tweet, bunnies hop and hopeful young lovers look for someone to come along and jump start their life. Ice fishing? Never happened. It’s also that time for CREEM to trot out its annual consumer’s guide to the rock press.
ROCK MAGAZINES: All Washed Up!
Rick Johnson
Looks like it’s that time of year again, cowpokes! Birdies tweet, bunnies hop and hopeful young lovers look for someone to come along and jump start their life. Ice fishing? Never happened.
It’s also that time for CREEM to trot out its annual consumer’s guide to the rock press. Aw, you don’t have to applaud and stomp your feet wildly! Hey, you in the skateboard hat, c’mon, no fans allowed on the field!
As you might imagine, us streetwise nuns here at CREEM look at the other rock mags like cops look at U.T.E.’s—Undesirable Transient Element to you civilians. We’ve been accused of displaying all the sense of humor of Basque Separatists when it comes to scooping the competition, but what d’ya expect? I mean, when Hustler does their annual review of skin mags, do you expect them to compare the enemy to anything better than an immune system with a flat tire?