The Next Big Thing

In keeping with the ongoing 30th anniversary of “punk rock”, I'm duty bound to impart the news that Issue #1 of NBT came out on the fateful April Fool’s Day of 1977. Having given much consideration to whether or not there'll ever be another printed edition then the verdict is no. Not only does little of the infrastructure with which it was distributed exist but it'll be kinder to trees. The folder/binders that were going to be employed in the "Who Will Save Rock'n'Roll" project will be donated to a school or to one of those scrap stationery type places. It's all just clutter and I don't have the wherewithall to put myself into hawk again. Not so much an attempt to reduce my carbon footprint, more a rare burst of common sense. My thanks to you folks out there that give a damn, who visit this outpost despite my deficiencies in the communications department. There will be no commemorative digest but gracias for asking.

As a special birthday treat, what could be more "punk rock" than this letter of "encouragement" from Tony Parsons? The background is that he was sent a copy of issue 6 with a letter calling his critical faculties into question. I was young and idealistic, what can I say? How was I to know he was a beacon who would become a succesful novelist in the years to follow?? Not much of that style on display here mind you. His editor must be a dab hand. Anyways, it came back, torn into pieces - with this on IPC stationery - Cor blimey - strike a light - guv, you’ve gotta larf, ‘intcha?? (read in a mockney accent for maximum effect).

Sorry if it takes a wee while to download to your browser but I couldn't get it to be anywhere near legible in any smaller format. You can click on the particular images to open them in order to read it. Incase you can't crack the scrawl, here's a transcript... beware though, it contains language not suited to the sabbath day, but it's all part of the experience. Like gobbing at the band!

"Dear Shit-Face, here's your pathetic shit-rag back. Sorry, I wouldn't wipe me arse on it. Oh yeah, I offered the Dead Boys a chance to step outside and the pitiful morons were too fucking scared to try it. ANYTIME you want to try it - come right up to the NME + I'll put your teeth down the back of your throat, you middle-class turds. You have no chance of ever doing anything - if you try making a career as writers, you will starve to death. If you weren't so pathetic you'd be funny. What a bunch of wankers you are. Fuck off wankers. Tony Parsons. TURN OVER TURD (Yes there's more!!) The Ramones, Dead Faggots + Blondie all think your "assessments" are correct because you are grovelling sycophantic arse-lickers. Good luck with your "writing". Ha! HA! HA! Now fuck off, shit-face. "

HA! HA! HA! indeed you tumchie, ever get the feeling you were an elmer?