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Fanzines, politics and agency
Matthew Worley

3 Whose culture? Fanzines, politics and agency Matthew Worley The impetus for starting a (punk) fanzine was often clear enough. Writing in the first issue of Sniffin’ Glue (1976), Mark Perry bemoaned the weekly music press’s failure to understand ‘this thing called “punk rock”’. ‘The weeklys [sic] are so far away from the kids that they can’t possibly say anything of importance’, he complained: ‘why don’t they stick to Queen and all that trash that drive around in expensive cars’.1 For Tony Drayton, communicating from the edge of Glasgow in November 1976, Ripped

in Ripped, torn and cut
Negotiating acceptable politics in the Dutch fanzine Raket
Kirsty Lohman

16 Punks against censorship: negotiating acceptable politics in the Dutch fanzine Raket Kirsty Lohman Punk took root in The Netherlands in 1977, with scores of new bands forming through 1978–80.1 As elsewhere, punk’s mix of spectacular imagery, nihilism and/or radical politics, shock value and a do-it-yourself approach appealed to young people. Also in the late 1970s, the port city of Rotterdam was undergoing a process of deindustrialisation and automation. It was still being rebuilt, both literally and figuratively, following near-annihilation during the Second

in Ripped, torn and cut
Lucy Robinson

into imagined futures. Sometimes the same zines are held in a number of different collections, for different reasons. Factsheet Five was a zine catalogue zine. It catalogued and summarised a thousand zines.22 More recent digital collections like zineWiki, Digital Fanzine Preservation Society, Qzap and Open Culture translate zines and replicate the zine form in their online structures. Qzap, for example, is crowdsourced, building a community of donors. Other archives are rooted in the physicality of their social space in contemporary autonomous and anarcho spaces; for

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Positive punk
Richard Cabut

13 Kick: positive punk Richard Cabut In the autumn of 1982, I was living in a punk squat in New North Road, London, N1, a walk from Old Street, unreconstructed and sort of scary/lairy at that time. On one occasion I was mugged for 26½ pence; all I had in my pocket and pretty much all I had in the world. I was on the dole and spent my time conducting a fruitful lifestyle based on what I described in my fanzine Kick as ‘creativity, individuality and rebellion’.1 Kick 4 had been published at the end of that summer and had attracted a fair amount of attention from

in Ripped, torn and cut
Russ Bestley and Rebecca Binns

7 The evolution of an anarcho-punk narrative, 1978–84 Russ Bestley and Rebecca Binns From its inception, punk, as articulated through its fanzines, was anti-elitist; positioning itself against self-indulgent, outmoded rock stars and the pretentions of rock journalism.1 Pioneering punk zine Sniffin’ Glue ( July 1976) and those that immediately followed2 sought an authentic form of expression to relate directly with ‘disaffected kids’ who comprised the demographic of punk subculture. Against the hierarchical structure inherent in mainstream media, punk zines

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City Fun and the politics of post-punk
David Wilkinson

5 ‘Pam ponders Paul Morley’s cat’: City Fun and the politics of post-punk David Wilkinson Manchester’s City Fun (1978–83) bears all the hallmarks of punk fanzine media. Early issues in particular feature impulsive anti-authoritarian rants alongside reviews and ruminations on the meaning of punk. City Fun’s often striking covers varied in style, though Dada-indebted collages by Linder Sterling and Jon Savage captured a distinctively post-punk structure of feeling; one riven by the crisis of the political conjuncture, which nevertheless offered glimpses of utopia

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Countercultural and alternative radical publishing in the decade before punk
Jess Baines, Tony Credland and Mark Pawson

were to continue or to re-materialise through punk. We do not mean to deny the sheer creativity and distinctiveness of punk culture; but by drawing attention to examples of alternative DIY print cultures that preceded, co-existed with and, at times, intermingled with punk, we hope to constructively complicate the history of fanzine production and the DIY narrative associated with it. We do this by examining three aspects of these ‘other’ DIY print cultures: the production practices of a range of grass-roots and radical publications; the processes of various artists

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The transgressive zine culture of industrial music in the 1970s and 1980s
Benjamin Bland

using, a section on ‘Magazines & Fanzines of Note’ concluded with the assertion that ‘Between the ages of 5–14 the average American child sees 13,000 human deaths on TV.’30 Crucially, by the third issue of Industrial News the various strains placed on TG by their place at the forefront of a new movement were starting to show. The introduction to this issue emphasised the overwhelming amount of correspondence TG were receiving by this point. More interestingly, however, a previously unpublished interview transcript with P-Orridge (originally intended for the punk zine

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Riot grrrl and body politics from the early 1990s
Laura Cofield

agency within the music scene and broader structures of oppression surrounding language, sex and the economy.1 Riot grrrls understood that to reclaim the body they must also retrieve the means of representation. As well as re-educating themselves and each other about the body through music and meetings, the proliferation of cheaply produced and distributed fanzines further provided a textual space for grrrls to foster an increasingly idiosyncratic and reflexive relationship with female embodiment. The issues they addressed ranged significantly from self-image, to fat

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Alternative Ulster?
George Legg

, ‘many resources in aesthetic alter-­modern spaces of the past via which to experiment with steps forward’.5 Wark’s comments were made in response to Alex Williams and Nick Srnicek’s #Accelerate: Manifesto for an Accelerationist Politics (2013), but through its critique #Celerity forms something of a manifesto in itself. In the following concluding remarks, I draw upon this document, but I do so in the context of another manifesto or movement of sorts, namely Northern Irish punk. My focus is on the punk fanzine Alternative Ulster and, more particularly, a polemic piece

in Northern Ireland and the politics of boredom