What’s this shit? This is supposed to a punk zine isn’t it? But it’s so readable and soft-spoken. It’s got irony and subtlety and even a little bit of intelligence. Where’s the sex? The ranting about bands sellling out? The fifteen unreadable reviews of tapes you will never ever hear of again? Instead we get the funny “Open letter to a club-booker”, the fairly insightful interview with a striking Cineplex worker, and a few more items of left-leaning content. The comics were unreadable, I guess that’s punk. And there’s a drawing of a guy getting his arm cut off in the door of a subway. That’s alright. More fucking violence please!
zine / #1 / main creators: that wacky punk band Loogan Bin / $1 / Box 201, Station B, Toronto, ON, M5T 2W1