Just like every other artist in the world, every writer has an idol. There’s always that one or those few writers who make aspiring writers everything they are. Their prose, rhythm, imagery and distinct vocabulary can all be attributed to these role models to some extent.
Journalists are far from impervious to these truths. Instead of John Steinbeck, Stephen King and F. Scott Fitzgerald, however, we tend to cling to Bob Woodward, Nellie Bly and even IU’s very own Ernie Pyle.
I, on the other hand, always felt like the black sheep in regards to my journalistic influences. Though I have always greatly admired these reporting icons, I always found myself resonating more with the likes of Hunter S. Thompson, Neil Strauss and Tom Wolfe.
In other words, I have a bizarre attraction to the rebellious tendencies of the outlaws that make up true, unadulterated rock 'n' roll journalism. The same notorious and vicious journalism Frank Zappa once said was just “people who can’t write, interviewing people who can’t talk, for people who can’t read.”
But who better to epitomize this psyched-up league of reporting than “America’s only rock 'n' roll magazine” Creem?
Started in 1969 by Barry Kramer, who would sell copies of the zines out of the back of his truck like Virginian moonshine.
Creem would go on to become one of the most notorious and influential examples of not only rock journalism, but also music criticism as a whole, the world has ever seen.
Was it serious journalism? Of course not. Rock 'n' roll isn’t supposed to be serious. It’s supposed to be one big stupid daredevil stunt over a fiery ring across the Grand Canyon of law and order.
To put it simply, rock 'n' roll is about having fun, and its journalism should reflect that.
The rockers loved Creem, too, perhaps even more so than the magazine's competitor Rolling Stone.
The covers of Creem had this odd sort of mystique to them that blended debauchery and art pop like some sort of trashy John Waters painting. Which was wonderful, by the way. The only other magazine with covers that original was Punk magazine, which too had a short circulation.
However, the heart of Creem magazine was not in its covers, but in its infamous editor Lester Bangs, often considered to be the godfather of rock and roll criticism.
Though Bangs is considered to be a snobbish tasteless hipster today, for warranted reasons, it’s hard to deny that he did for music criticism what Roger Ebert did for film criticism.
Bangs was a journalistic wildman in every sense of the phrase. He was a raging filthy, unkempt alcoholic and drug-addict right up to his death in 1982. Rolling Stone even fired him for an incredibly raunchy review.
He was basically a tamed-down version of Hunter S. Thompson without the ultra-machoism and gonzo flair. In other words, he was the perfect editor for Creem. I wouldn’t doubt it in my mind that his death sentenced the magazine to the same fate just a few years later.
There have been many attempts since then to revive the publication, all of which ultimately failed. It might never be fully revived either, and why should it? What would there be to write about? Though rock 'n' roll might still be alive, all the real rock stars are dead, replaced with commercialized robots.
No, it’s evident Creem was the sort of legendary publication, like McClure’s magazine or the New York World, destined to eventually die.
Fortunately, Creem’s legacy lives on in an upcoming documentary called “Boy Howdy! The Story of Creem: America’s Only Rock 'n' Roll Magazine.”
Though Rolling Stone tried dabbling in subjects like political and social issues alongside its pop music coverage, it was all about the rock 'n' roll lifestyle with Creem. It was raw, uncensored and profane as hell.
This isn’t to drag Rolling Stone through the mud, of course. It was its willingness to broaden its coverage that most likely helped it outlive its competitor.
But you can’t deny Creem was definitely more of a rock magazine, and just like the rock stars it wrote about, it too went down in a blaze of glory.
afaulds@indiana.edu | a_faulds9615
