A perfectly proportioned little booklet sized ‘zine from Glitzine regular Carl Isonhart to stick in the back of your jeans pockets or snugly inside your jacket alongst wit your fags and wallet. Or mobile, nowadays - how two cultures collide. When just about every indie shop was strewn with products of ardent and (hopefully) articulate scribes the mobile phone was probably only used by gangsters and CC Deville ordering home deliveries. Centring on materiel that the Hounds of Sleazegrinder wouldn’t shy away from issue 1 might take some topping for some, featuring as it does interviews with Soho Roses frontchap Paul Blittz and eternal wag Buttz from The Babysitters and Last of the Teenage Idols. Many an in-depth review is blow-dried and hair-sprayed, including a salutary sacking off of Faster Pussycat, and while I disagree wholebrokenheartedly with the assertion that ‘These Boots Are Made For Walking’ being crap even in its original guise, he has dug out Baby Scream from Argentina’s forty, and fool, proof Bourbon Records, and it is as commendably spirited as the as the far flung remnants of tattered scarves and shattered hearts it sets out to cover. So while this inaugural address from the Sonic office maybe be quite slight and almost as skinny as Stiv Bators on an early, entirely coincidental Atkins diet, it can only grow and accumulate more bullets to its belt, so get contacting the Carl. __________________________________________________

- Stu Gibson