Over the years I’ve developed a hefty collection of hardcore fanzines that serve as an endless wealth of quotable entertainment. Many of these fanzines aren’t in print any more, and it’s a damn shame...but we're balls deep in the internet age and there's no getting around it. No, I’m not going to scan my old zines and put them online...that’s time intensive and I don’t feel like doing it. What I’d rather do instead is take some of the little “zine nuggets” that I’ve found over the years of poring through these things (most of the time while pooping) and expand on them a little bit. Add some personal commentary. That kind of self-indulgent internet-generation nonsense. So here goes. Fanzine nugget #1.
This one comes from a fanzine out of Chicago called TBH. I never found out officially, but I’m almost certain that “TBH” stands for “The Big Hurt” which rules because a) it’s an allusion to Chicago White Sox 
powerhouse Frank Thomas and b) Becky Miller (of Double Rabies, I Question Not Me and Lifers fanzine fame) and I have plans to actually make a band with this name. I just need to move to New York City first. Becky also has her own baseball blog that you can check out here. It's witty, hilarious and feverishly obsessive just like her zines.
powerhouse Frank Thomas and b) Becky Miller (of Double Rabies, I Question Not Me and Lifers fanzine fame) and I have plans to actually make a band with this name. I just need to move to New York City first. Becky also has her own baseball blog that you can check out here. It's witty, hilarious and feverishly obsessive just like her zines.
TBH inspired Drug Dogs in a lot of ways. For one, it had plenty of illustrations done by the editor…something I’ve always been a fan of and something I take with me in my own zine making pursuits (that’s also why they take a little while to put out). Secondly, the back of TBH #3 sports
giant, stenciled hardcore lyrics, (in this case Warzone ones) and that’s something I’ve sort of “borrowed” as well, only gone beyond the realm of hardcore. (Like using Bob Dylan and Monster Magnet lyrics)
giant, stenciled hardcore lyrics, (in this case Warzone ones) and that’s something I’ve sort of “borrowed” as well, only gone beyond the realm of hardcore. (Like using Bob Dylan and Monster Magnet lyrics)
This particular nugget comes from an Expired Youth interview conducted in TBH #3. They were an awesome straight edge band from Chicago that came the closest to “Screaming…” era Uniform Choice as any other band I’d seen. I saw ‘em a few times. Once in Louisville and they covered Judge’s “Like You” and once at a crappy community center in E-town. Here’s a video of it. If you’re hip to my dudes you’ll notice a huskier Keith Lucius, and a substantially skinnier me (sporting a dorky choker necklace) moshing. I think it's from 2006.
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| 2000's suburban KY metalcore for ya |
In fact, at one point, a dude who I grew up with who’d played in a metalcore bands (with a pink guitar...pictured above), somehow got recruited to play a few shows with them because they were in dire straits. I can’t remember all of the details, but it was certainly a bizarre turn of events.
Anyway, this interview took place in TBH #3 which came out in either 2006 or 2007.
From The Big Hurt Fanzine #3
I heard some crazy shit went down across the street. What happened?From The Big Hurt Fanzine #3
I was chilling out front having a Power Slurpee one day and a Mexican dude went into the Turkish Food & Liquor store across the street. They have card games in there every Saturday. This guy was playing with them and lost. He ran out, and the guys caught him and shook him down right in front of the place. After they ripped the money out of his pockets, the Mexican dude flipped out and swung off the air conditioning in the door, ripping it off. Then the dude threw it through the door. Four guys came out of the building and took him around back. It was pretty righteous.
Sketchiest place you’ve ever bought Jordans from?
Easily Pulaski and Madison. That was the worst. It wasn’t the worst it was just…I really felt out of place just because I went there with four black dudes from work. I we
nt and parked my car in front of a swap meet in this parking lot and right away I got circled by dudes. The guys I was with had to tell these dudes I was with them, ‘cuz they thought I was a cop. Honestly, they thought I was a cop. We went through this other swap meet, where you were just surrounded by shit. Bootleg everything. Polar Bear Jackets with camel lining, shit like that. We go down these stairs and there’s more shops down there, but then there’s this room with nothing in it but a white wall and a white door. I thought I was gonna get killed or something. We go there and its this dude I work with, Marion’s cousin. He gets all these Jordans that fall off the back of a truck. They let people in two at a time. I’m standing there, waiting and they ask me what I’m there for. I tell them I just want to check out the shoes. I’m standing there waiting, and then I get to go in. It’s like Jordan wonderland. You’ve got the black and midnight blue Jordan 1’s, mocha Jordan 3’s, Playoff 5’s, Playoff 4’s, Olympic 6’s which are the most rare Jordans. I’m pretty positive that all of them were bootleg shoes, but who’s gonna grab your foot and scope out your shoe to see if they are bootleg? If I’m rocking rare Olympic Jordan 6’s, who is going to be the one to tell me they’re fake?
nt and parked my car in front of a swap meet in this parking lot and right away I got circled by dudes. The guys I was with had to tell these dudes I was with them, ‘cuz they thought I was a cop. Honestly, they thought I was a cop. We went through this other swap meet, where you were just surrounded by shit. Bootleg everything. Polar Bear Jackets with camel lining, shit like that. We go down these stairs and there’s more shops down there, but then there’s this room with nothing in it but a white wall and a white door. I thought I was gonna get killed or something. We go there and its this dude I work with, Marion’s cousin. He gets all these Jordans that fall off the back of a truck. They let people in two at a time. I’m standing there, waiting and they ask me what I’m there for. I tell them I just want to check out the shoes. I’m standing there waiting, and then I get to go in. It’s like Jordan wonderland. You’ve got the black and midnight blue Jordan 1’s, mocha Jordan 3’s, Playoff 5’s, Playoff 4’s, Olympic 6’s which are the most rare Jordans. I’m pretty positive that all of them were bootleg shoes, but who’s gonna grab your foot and scope out your shoe to see if they are bootleg? If I’m rocking rare Olympic Jordan 6’s, who is going to be the one to tell me they’re fake?
What happened the other day?
That was just a crazy day. I saw two sets of twins. Isn’t there some logic behind that, like isn’t that bad luck or something? I found a third Jordan store at 71st and Cottage Grove. I ate at Toots and they have Macaroni and Cheese Nuggets. I mean when you’re in college and all you eat is macaroni and cheese and now they have nuggets…who thinks of that shit? A genius. Probably the worst thing but best thing for you. Then I saw one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen living in Chicago. My job entails me driving around the city looking for worksites to buy from, but really I just drive around cool parts of the city I haven’t been to before. While down in one of my favorite, most exquisite parts of the city, which is 71st and Cottage Grove, lanes were merging and this car ran into an innocent car. The dude got out of his car, his car was smoking. This Wendell Smith wannabe started crying. He laid down in the middle of the street pretending his neck was broke when he was just yelling at the car next to him. Before he got out of the car, he said “I’m the type of **** that will tear your world apart!” I was speechless. Who says that? That’s like something straight out of an Onyx record.
I don’t know if this zine is still being made, but it’s a quality one and the email address used inside is: jeffklepper@gmail.com
