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Three Years and We Still Suck
By The Editors of Lollipop
Ah, Lollipop. You either love it or hate it, or you're just utterly indifferent, but whichever category you fall into, may your reasons be sound and your landing gentle. Lollipop has been around for three years and in honor of this auspicious occasion, we've culled what we find to be some of the most memorable phrases, sentiments, and observances from those twisted pretzels of humanity who have insanely assumed the mantle of Lollipop staffers.
As Bazooka Joe once observed: "Even a broken clock is right twice a day," and that observation applies just as well to Lollipop. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but occasionally the whirling movements stop just long enough and accidentally get it right, or maybe just gloriously wrong. As Duke Crevenator would say: "Wind it up!"
|Issue One: The Ugly Truth
"Somewhere, something was happening. That may not seem to be the most profound statement in recorded history, but at least it's true."
Scott Hefflon, "The Adventures of Macaroni McSpoon"
"One two three - four five. Six seven, eight nine ten."
J. Hazard Fitch, "Cipher"
"Astride the Hell-gone-techno warhorse was the throat of the big, bald and beautiful bogeyman himself, Sam Jordan. A monster spewing gut-rending lyrics of such poetic savagery that it goes beyond shock; it marches terror along your spine."
Scott Hefflon, Big Catholic Guilt
|Issue Two: Prozac Is For Wimps
"Beale was 9 years old and sitting in math class. He had his finger jammed so far up his tiny nose that Cindy Fleenburg could not look away in horror and disgust. She was spellbound."
Joe Hacking & Pete Shea,"Wingnut"
"#597,881,318 47mm. Aged ninety-one days, 50 deg. ascension. Predatory sauropod, see cross ref. AA-112D. Pinned left posterior terminal claw; spinal column snapped; death."
J. Hazard Fitch, "The Way Lizards Die"
"Psycho midget is thanked for a favor by being granted freedom with a captive woman. He gets to bolt her nude body to a chair and remove her teeth one by one with a pair of pliers. As if she wasn't enjoying life enough, the "dentist" then shaves her head in order to make way for a huge power drill to burrow its way down through. Steady now, kids, because here comes a nice long straw down through the hole in order to suck up the chunky fluid. Yummm..."
John A. G. Bikowski, "Coroner's Corner"
"It is somewhat comforting (not that their sound is by a long stretch) to hear some really freakish music that has just enough lucidity to balance its insanity."
Paul Lee, Six Finger Satellite "Can you say Grrr?!"
Babyfreak, Grindring "It's hard to find `chicks' that can swagger/ strut/stomp and belt it out like (or, gasp!, better) than their posturing, bravado-inflated male counterparts. They're way heavy when they wanna be, and touchingly sentimental when doing the token ballad that MTV lighter-waving dorks seem to eat up."
Fruit Pie (don't bother me), Little Sister at the Skybox
|Issue Three: Pessimism Springs Eternal. It's a Good Thing, Too
"Why do I work some little pee-on 9-5 job making dick for money?"
The Gumball Guru, Decision Making 101
"Welcome to my psychedelic netherworld," He said.
...Please wipe your feet at the door."
Laura Kallio, "Apartment J" "God! Why did I have to be born Walter Gardner, living in a time when `leaders' are men like Bill Clinton, George Bush, Donald Trump and Ted Kennedy?... Do you think Julius Caesar ever went to a shrink? Do you think Cicero was ever asked to tell someone about his mother?"
Sean Perry, "Rome Re-Visited"
"With the advent of penicillin, plastic surgery, and those muse killing Betty Ford Clinics, however, artists are now living long past the point where their efforts are of any use to anyone, except various and sundry ex-wives, investment bankers, attorneys, lifeless nostalgia freaks, and whatever photographer can goad one of them into a multi-million dollar blow to the head."
Kerry Joyce, "Generation X or Generation PG"
"Hold me down, I feel like bouncing about and thrashing in my chair. I'm possessed!! Satan is inside of me and he won't get out, at least not while I'm listening to White Zombie."
Paul Lee, White Zombie
"With more than one person fleeing to the bathroom to puke their guts out, the Queers were going 'Nam. Crazed punks jumped on stage bellowing "backing vocals" and, during `Rambo Rat,' a yam-eyed fan shared a couple of verses with singer Joe Queer."
Farmer Sean, Queers live at Studio #158
"Toss in a few extended gonzo solos, slip in a few mournful whisky-soaked semi-ballads, and then refuse to take the whole thing seriously and have a food fight with the style - drinking beer, belching in key, dancing naked on the coffee table bellowing random witticisms."
Scott Hefflon, Reverend Horton Heat
|Issue Four:Abandon Hope Or Get A Real Job
"Meter Maids. They sound so innocent, so helpful. Like milk maids. Lovely Rita meter FIEND would be more like it."
Kerry Joyce, "The Re-Possessed" "Fifty Words
I have fifty words to
expand your horizons show
you the truth, blow your
mind wipe your ass throw
caution to the wind and
explore the thesaurus of the obvious
to walk you through cesspools of beauty and
show you flowers
of undemanding gratitude
Time is almost up"
Adam R. Swift, "Fifty Words"
"Letter's to Cleo's first full-length CD leaves you distracted. A little confused. And yet, it remains comfortable, accessible. Hanley's vocals travel from innocent, child-like tenderness to raw rage and back again without missing a beat."
Laura Kallio, Letters to Cleo
"They groove, they're hip, I like them. The guitarist/singer's buttcheeks dance on the chair, threatening to take a spill at any moment. The drummer sings along, giggles a fill every now and again, and smiles a lot. The dude with the stand up bass doesn't look like he knows he's there. He's thumpin' away like a bad ass, but he's in space. They finish, we clap, we order more drinks, time passes."
Phil Erup, G. Love & Special Sauce at the Middle East
|Issue Five: Love Hurts
"At first, Merle was as nervous utilizing the popsicles on Allison for pleasure as he was selling them to her for consumption. Possibly more so. But soon he had her climaxing before the popsicle melted, and that was the real trick to it."
Joe Hacking, "Fetishes"
"Your flock has fallen and every exit
is a mirror.
But you smile like a comic book
and take Death's hand,
not repulsed by its stench, or yours,
and skip along your path
losing hair, teeth and nails
as you go
So the last polished word becomes
and the first naked word is the end
of your soliloquy."
Mark Lashenson, "Soliloquy"
"And what of Elaine prancing about the stage in the now legendary duct-tape and 1/2 mask, tapping and tinkering with some effects jungle gym circuit board rack monstrosity? What's a scraggly long-haired rocker to make of it? With her excessively pierced, half-shaved and tattooed china doll Vogue-gone-cyber looks and oh-so provocative teaser-taped goodies, she sings low, scratchy and throaty, then wisps into a breathy angelic falsetto."
Scott Hefflon, Zia at the Rat
|Issue Six: The Way We Were
"The belly smacker kids
spit soda pop
and bleed Kool-Aid..."
"Belly Smacker Kids"
"Here's what happened in the days following my depressed state after all the other friends took off and I was faced with a trial that had me looking at the big house and tons of more legal bullshit. If anything, it shows that those of us who are False Epicureans and true worshippers of Discord always win. Wind it up! (Postscript 2) ...Victory for Crevanator! Yep, ya guessed it, the glance of Fortune and the blessings of Eris all shone on me today. All charges were dropped due to the lack of appearance by the cop who tried to set me up."
Duke Crevanator, "Goodbye Gonzo"
"Me in the Key of E is a great album to listen to when you're sitting home by yourself curled up with big toes at rest on both triggers of a fully pumped and primed ten-gauge double-barreled shotgun."
Kerry Joyce, "A Band Called Me"
"Volume? Check. Bass? Check. Hallucinogenics? Check. Welcome to your drug-induced nightmare... Maybe they'll try to tell us to invite naked starlets and dwarves into our hot tubs. Anyway, just listen to these ten tracks of bad craziness from RevCo, but for God's sake, hide the pets..."
Carolyn Gaines, Revolting Cocks
"...a wave of techno drum and distorto-bass and my face is torn off by a barrage of grinding guitar... I grope around for my face and reattach it to my skull ready to take on the mind-crushing experience of Nailbomb."
"...in his patented McJob shirt, Ted always reminds me of the guy offering to take your order, please, or inquiring as to what size bowling shoe you require. ...From outta this skinny, heroin-addict-looking starvation poster boy comes a bulldozing roar of a voice."
Scott Hefflon, 6L6 at Axis
|Issue Seven: Grunge Will Kill Itself
Death: Know The Seven Warning Signs.
1. Cold or Clammy Skin
2. Stiffness of joints and muscles
3. Inability To Fog Up A Mirror
4. Odor of Chrysanthemums
5. Flies buzzing around your eyes
6. Diminished sexual performance
7. No subscription to Lollipop Magazine
"If there's one thing Kurt Cobain's death proves for sure, it's that he wasn't kidding."
"To be such a brilliantly talented artist, to see through people and life as if it were all encased in glass, to be so delicate and vulnerable emotionally and to be blown around like a leaf in the wind by massive circumstances swarming around you, was no doubt a more painful existence than the record-buying public can understand."
"Call it a generation gap if you want, but it goes beyond the call of ignorance. Andy Rooney sits upon his butt on national television and pretends he's got Kurt Cobain and the entire twentysomething generation figured out."
"April is the foolest month. Dying were two of popular culture's most self destructive demi-gods: Kurt Cobain and Richard Nixon. Kurt Cobain's death is a personal tragedy; Nixon's life was a national tragedy - a preventable crisis that paralyzed the country at a most critical period, something those who condemned Cobain and fawned over Nixon this past April should keep in mind."
"For some reason, it was important for me to be in Seattle.... I decided I would just go. I slept in the parking lot of a McDonald's in Fishkill, New York... Somewhere between Dubois, PA and the Ohio state line, all my gauges went dead and I had to hitch a ride to a Wal-Mart and buy a new battery. At this point, I just didn't want to go anymore. The urge left me just as suddenly as it had come on. So I turned around. And it rained the whole way back."
J. Hazard Fitch
"I, for one, do not mourn Kurt's death. I respect his decision, the same way I respect his music. He did both to release the demons in his head."
"[Kurt Cobain] made his decision... He died with that decision and I've got to live with it."
The proceeding from "Club 27 Admit One"
"Disappointingly, the acoustics at the Cyclorama are horrible; at some points NIN was a static buzz overlayed with Reznor's voice. Those unfamiliar with NIN were probably unaware of the difference (this is `industrial' music, after all)."
Noel Sanders, Nine Inch Nails at the Cyclorama
"Madonna's skim job into the wonderful world of Dominatrix is laughable once you've experienced (and cowered before) the all-out verbal assault and inviting/demanding self-caresses of Gen... Ooooh, powertools!"
Scott Hefflon, Genitorturers at Local 186
|Issue Eight: NEVERMIND
"`The local by-laws prohibit any fixed structures on the beach,' the man wearing the hut wheezed, `but the Whammo Hut corporate types say I gotta have a building if I'm going to keep my franchise. Look, I'm even handicap accessible.'"
Gyrating in gaudy, stripped-down stage wear and excessive makeup only complement that `cute, sneering punk rock girl in plaid which looks so darling with that I'm-so-mad-at-the-world frown until she flicks her cigarette at you, spits in your face and kicks at you repeatedly in the balls with her Docs' image."
Scott Hefflon, Lunachicks at the Middle East
"I really don't remember when I've had as much mindless fun (aside from getting toasted on dangerous booze and parachuting in my birthday suit) as when I saw the Supersuckers."
|Issue Nine: The Unwashed Ashtray of the Sub-conscious
"Please raise your hand if never attractive but now washed out former-Red-Line-T-driver's sexual fantasies set to a simplistic and interminable industrial beat turn you on."
Liz Starbuck "Sex & Drugs &
Rock 'N' Roll Banned In Boston"
"Civilization is steadily declining, hope is just an ugly backwoods burg in Arkansas, and somewhere Nostradamus is smiling and collecting on his bets. "Told ya." And what better way to survey the wreckage, and try to to pile it up prettily than to spit it all back out in the form of easily-smudged newsprint?"
William Ham, "The Culture Bunker"
"`HA! HA!' I say, `Victor's stupid.' He thinks too much, obviously, he has broken his poet. ... Jesus Christ. I'm thinking again. I can tell."
Autumn Lily Ober, "Broken Shutter Beach"
"Frank.doc stayed behind at our table, alternately pondering the electronic great chain of being and his killer phone bill."
Kerry Joyce, "Burning Desires"
"Alright kiddies, get ready for the real second coming. The God of all punk Rockers, Tesco Vee, has returned with his Meatmen to rid the world of hippies, Republicans, Gun Control Advocates, Christians, and all other unbelievers of the True Word."
Duke Crevanator, Meatmen
|Issue 10: This Revolution Will Not Be Simulcast
"But civilization makes cowards of us all, and the descendants of those proud warriors now hunted only tips and trade as bell hops and souvenir vendors in and around the big hotels." Kerry Joyce, "Burning Desires"
"Host John Totaro interviewed John Totaro of John Totaro and the Accidents and the result was, well, humorous. The host seemed to have all those pertinent questions, huh? Pushing the latest release from John Totaro and the Accidents Bang, Crash, Drive (Spank Dawg), John and John discussed the name changes from The Tats to The Accidents to John Totaro and the Accidents."
Scott Hefflon, "Rawk Tawk with John Totaro"
|Issue 11: November Spawns A Moshpit
"Club Snub (weeknights, Wholesale Music Network) - Today's popular dance hits play as a gaggle of modestly dressed teens stand up against the wall opposite one another, waiting for someone to make the first move. No one has yet; worth watching anyway."
William Ham, "The Culture Bunker"
"The wages of sin is death... We're fucked!"
Kerry Joyce, "Burning Desires"
"There are few things worse than an average rock and roll record. Except maybe a case of the clap."
Chris Adams, Violent Femmes
"The world can roughly be divided into two kinds of people: those who get Bob Dylan and those who don't. ...Those who will never know what it feels like to have a Bob Dylan song `hit 'em like a freight train,' because the gate keepers of their unlucky souls find his singing voice intolerable."
Kerry Joyce, Bob Dylan at The Orpheum
"While the duh-rock guitars plod and rip solos, there are preachers prophesizing, porno stars humping, warbling horns that sound like elephants with indigestion, and '80s cheese new wave keyboard lines that Flock of Seagulls would find appalling."
Chaz Thorndike, Foreskin 500
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