Words Fail Me: A former fanzine writer recalls his days writing fanzines

Craig Stephen on a love of fanzines …

Bored, in between college courses, and with a desire to be noticed, this writer hammered at his keyboard to come up with a string of entertaining fanzines in the heyday of the format.

These A5 wonders were once an important part of the underground media. They were a source of information for music fanatics with music coverage restricted to the weekly newspapers which often bypassed certain bands or genres to the annoyance of many.

In Britain, the black and white paper frenzy began in earnest during punk, with titles such as ‘Ripped and Torn’ and ‘Sniffin’ Glue’, which have virtually entered the mainstream as reference points, and have been compiled into glossy books. As punk was overtaken by post-punk, indie and a myriad of sub-genres, fanzines blossomed, often particular to certain bands or the trend of the month.

In New Zealand, the likes of ‘Empty Heads’, ‘Push’, and ‘Anti-System’ appeared while the Dunedin-based ‘Garage’ fanzine is generally regarded as the daddy of them all, and has recently been compiled in a big fat book costing $59.

My own experience of writing/editing fanzines began while studying at university and with the hopes of having something to add to my rather thin CV. They were an outlet for my writing ambitions as well as my angsty, generally left-wing opinions. And they were also a vehicle to gently annoy people, people who needed to be annoyed. Of course, those people would never have actually read my zines, but that wasn’t the point.

 The first zine was dedicated to the House of Love, and was called ‘Se Dest’ after one of their album tracks. It was a straight-down-the-line band-focused fanzine, with the emphasis on fan. It was short and to the point. While it was strictly a one-off for me, I am pleased to say that ‘Se Dest’ continues as an online publication in the hands of one of the first people to buy that initial edition.

Nevertheless, my mind was more interested on the broader music scene so I did a zine dedicated to the Festive 50, the end-of-year chart of the year’s standout tracks which were aired on the John Peel show during the Christmas break.

It appealed to the list-making side of my brain, and while it was a straight compilation of annual charts from 1976, it had a great title ‘The Recreant Cad’, and a cover star in Kenny Dalglish in a Celtic strip. He wasn’t a cad, just my favourite player growing up. Dave Gedge of the Wedding Present was a buyer.

But the real deal were a series of zines that expanded my musical interest. The first of these, ‘Words Fail Me’, featured a cover drawn in the shape of a whisky bottle and had the words “established in 1997”. The back cover had a map of Angus with my home town Montrose snap bang in the middle.

The emphasis was on not taking myself seriously and to write about subjects that mattered to the still young self. “There is basically no limit to what can be discussed,” I wrote in my introduction trying to entice would-be contributors.

 So, the first article was entitled “Burn the NME” and was a critique of the best-selling music weekly of the time. Just to consolidate my dislike of the owners, editors and writers of that esteemed publication, there was an article called Morrissey versus the Music Press in which I both defended and pilloried the artist, and accused the music press (and that being mainly the NME) of having a vendetta against Mozza. Clearly, I had some internal issues with the music media at the time. Far more constructive was the obituary for Billy MacKenzie of The Associates, a cribbed interview from another fanzine of punk revivalists ‘S*M*A*S*H’, and some record reviews.

The enthusiasm was there, though it’s debatable about the quality. There is certainly a refreshing sense of dry and dark humour throughout, and some of it couldn’t possibly see the light of day in the current climate.

The second edition of ‘Words Fail Me’ is something I am far more prouder of. There are interviews I conducted myself – of Travis before performing one night in Sheffield, of Topper over the phone, Dave Gedge, and Euros from Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, who wasn’t in the mood to talk after the band’s soundcheck but gratefully did so anyway. I stuffed up the recording of the Topper interview, and after writing up what I recalled of the chat almost immediately, made some stuff up based on what I knew of the band.

There were live reviews of acts performing in Sheffield and Hull, and a piece on French arthouse movie Battle of Algiers. Mates contributed short stories and there was a feeling that this was what a fanzine should look like. It was still stapled together, the font types and sizes are all over the place, and it contained several cut and glue pictures, but it was a move forward.

 The third of these zines was issued when I had moved to Croydon in south London. It was not a suburb renowned for producing great bands nor contained any venues of note, but had several excellent record stores including Beanos, which was apparently the biggest independent record store in Europe at the time. The best thing about it were the trains heading to central London or in the other direction to Brighton.

Unfortunately, I can’t locate my own copy of this so I’m unable to offer judgement on it, but I recall it being a continuation of issue 2. It contained one of my own short stories (which I never want to read again!) and a piece on American gangsta novelist Iceberg Slim.

But at this point, the work involved for modest sales was draining, and a career in journalism was taking precedence. Meanwhile, fanzines were being taken over by the phenomenon that was the internet.

In 2023, there isn’t much need for printed music zines with so many avenues online. The DIY cottage industry still exists, and recent Zinefests in Wellington have been dominated by those focused on identity or other personal issues, or comics.

Some music fanzines exist in the UK where the football zine is surviving via veteran publications such as ‘Not The View’ (Celtic) and ‘City Gent’ (Bradford).

You hear that? That was this writer giving himself a firm pat on the back, not due to an out-of-control ego, but for having the motivation and commitment to do something that took an awful lot more work than the finished product would suggest. I put it down to a start in a career that has taken me to New Zealand, into radio and several quality publications, as well as being a published author.

Long live the fanzine. If you know what I mean.