Rag Mag 38

What's up punks? Fuck war and fuck fascism. Not much else to say. Remember what we are fighting for and the community takes care of itself. Here's a quick note from Coco after Electric Street Queens played their last show (hopefully not forever!).

Whats up my rock n roll maniacs. I am still riding high on adrenaline and no sleep from last night. BUT I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone that came out to the Electric Street Queens goodbye for now show. I can't even begin to explain what a sureal night it was. So many loved ones in the audience. Thanks to Humanoids, Orange Whip and Sherman aka Woco Roy for tearing up the stage with us. Till next time . Street Queens 4 LYFE – Coco

In this week's issue, a brand new Wasteland Chick, Creature on the Road - The Elizabeths Run Part 7 by Mr. Mittens, Film Freak with Coco A Go-Go, The Fight Report by Chessy Renee, and Creature's Double Feature.

Soundtrack to this issue (raiding my "2000s to now good shit" boxes) featuring Orange Whip 7", Vansuut/Tiikeri Split 7" (tiikeri is the best, but has Vansuut done anything else? their side rips), No Fucker - Annihilate Your Desperation 7", M.C. Monkey & Ape With Attitude - Human Zoo 7", Satanic Rockers - Eviction / Rats vs. Boredom 7", Vee Dee - Blood Zombie 7", Hazard Free From It! 7" E.P., Sad Boys - Cry Now Cry Later 7", Les Sexareenos - Can your finger do the nose mustache? 7", Spunky Boys - Mystery Capsule 7", Loretta - s/t 7" lathe, Ausmuteants - Stale White Boys Playing Stale Black Music 7" (gotta admit the group of bands around this project havent done much for me, but the nearly 5 minute long Who's the Narc complete with extended bongo solos got me good).

And why not, a brand new game from Rag Mag, where's this sticker? Hit us up with the location and win no prize.

Hit us up at ragmagclub@proton.me with flyers, art, feedback, column idea, or just to say hi and let's talk about PUNK! We archived columns and music reviews on the new site (rag-mag.ghost.io), so check it out.

Film freak 3/29/26

Whats up my freaks. Another day, another dollar, another disaster, another roll of film! It's wild out there and sometimes its hard to stay positive. I’ve been playing a lot of shows which always reminds me how lucky I am to be around the people I am , to play music, to be around art. I hope you too are doing something that brings you joy this week. This week's film freak theme is gonna be music, friends and film . Big surprise right? Stay safe out there. Xxxx Coco

Peewee Dinosaur, somewhere on a california highway, 2011, 35mm

So , as a kid I IDOLIZED PeeWee Herman. If you know me that probably makes sense. My two earliest performers I loved were him and Fred Schneider of the B52’s. My Mom worked nights on Thursdays which meant my Dad was in charge of cooking which meant boiled hot dogs and baked beans. We had this bootlegged copy of Peewee’s big adventure and so EVERY Thursday night I’d eat my hot dogs and beans while watching PeeWee. Its hard for me to pick a favorite scene in that movie but I always loved the giant Trex. I heard it was “ somewhere in California.” As a kid I would dream of going and sitting in the mouth having these other big dreams.

Flash forward 20 odd years later I’m touring with my band Gone Bad. We were touring in a station wagon like the mother fucking Griswalds and it was breakdown , after car breakdown. We’re cruising on the hot hot highway and the car is overheating and we’re like fuuuuuuuuck again ? We gotta pull over. And then like a hallucination , a mirage I see the Trex. Could it be? Was I dreaming ? Dehydrated? Both ? We whip into the parking lot just and time and let the car cool down. I ran into the business like a bat out of hell asking if that IS the Peewee dinosaur. It in fact was. It was also now a creationist museum . I handed over the 15 bucks and ran in. In my head all these years it was red , but it was actually just the light. I climbed up in it and looked out. I had put everything into this tour , it was a huge shift in my brain as an artist in changing my life. Dramatic I know but that time meant a lot to me. And there I was in the Trex’s mouth just like I dreamed as a kid. I always wanted to be an artist , to play music to just be myself . I looked out of the mouth and cried. I finally made it . 

Sogno Blu Stregas , Somerville , MA , 2018/9? , fuji instamax wide format

This is a test shot I did for my film “ Sogno Blu” ( Blue Dream). I shot all of it in our old apartment in Inman Sq ( man I miss that place) . Those are my friends and stars of the short Mahi, Audrey and Amanda. I made the whole backdrop out of felt . I wanted to have their makeup be eyes like the felt so I drew up sketches and gave it to my friend Alison who executed it beautifully. She is a former makeup artist and just really helped make this look come ALIVE. The whole film was shot on super 8 , so I did a bunch of test shots with my instant camera. I love how the red  really pops on the film. 

Casey with a PBR , Boston , 2005 , disposable camera ,35mm

I’ve always loved this photo of Casey. I love it more now that we’re older. Maybe I’m extra nostalgic these days. I think I took it outside. No clue what the red is so can only assume its his Aura.

Creature on the Road - The Elizabeths Run Part 7 by Mr. Mittens

The sun was starting to release its grip on the blacktop, I could feel the glare against my arms and face lessening as I drove. The Elizabeths lived in a small trailer beneath the little boardwalk’s end. Their brother took pity on them and used some of his book credits to purchase the trailer and have it parked beneath the concrete walkway. He even greased the red shirts and city officials with cash to let the women stay there without any hassle. I don’t know how much he made off of his story, no one really reads shit anymore, but I do know that an outpouring of credits from almost every zone rolled in after its printing. Whatever he earned, he sure as hell never set foot on another American oil rig again. He set his sisters up with a small fortune’s worth of credits, the trailer and some cash before he fucked off to the other side of the world (or what’s left of it). I can’t blame him for getting out, hell if I had five minutes of fame and a chip's worth of credit I’d leave too before the notoriety ran dry. Bug told me that he managed to make it all the way to Norway or some such place by bribing a cargo ship captain to hide him in the crates. Even if that’s true, he’s probably right back where he started, working on some foreign oil rig listening to stories in a language he doesn’t understand. Unless you’re rich by blood, the universe tends to keep you in your place no matter how hard you wriggle free. 

I pulled my van up to the trailer and honked my horn. Jesus, every time I made a delivery I could see the trailer decomposing before my eyes. This time, it looked like the siding along the front had started to peel. There were piles of rusted scrap and old cans beside the door. The curtains had fallen down again, or they’d taken them off the windows, I could see them clearly whirling about the trailer as they prepared for my visit. Someone had left a bicycle overturned beside the trailer’s side wall, I could see weeds and salt grass already growing beneath the tire spokes. The rubber tires had melted, fusing themselves to the sand. The entire trailer seemed to be sagging now, tilting itself to the left. It was as if the structure was slowly being worn down by the sister’s disorganized thinking and endless bickering. That’s a stupid thought I suppose, but I’m a firm believer that any object you inhabit is either worn down or fueled up by the energy you put into it. 

The trailer door swung open wildly and snapped back shut again. I could hear swearing from the other end of it and then another hard push as both women exited the trailer in wide brim hats and parasols made from old flyers. 

“Creature, shrieked the women in unison “get inside here before you get burned.” 

I waved my hand from the windshield and put on my sun suit. The company handed them out like candy, though I suspect that they do fuck all. I could hear the sisters crowding my van, arguing and pawing at the back doors like cartoon bears. 

“Hey, I shouted as I zipped up my suit and pulled the hood over my head. They always did this, clawing and carrying on while I was detained. Neither one of them had a single ounce of patience. I exited the van and raced to the back, trying to keep their filthy hands away from my clean windows. 

“Creature, creature what do you have, creature, creature what’s in the bag” they sang twirling their parasols. 

I opened the back doors and slid the large box out from the cab, sliding it onto the sand. “That doesn’t look like what we ordered,” said one of them to the other. 

“No it doesn’t Elizabeth 2, and I think Creature knows it’s not which is why they're sooooo late today. Isn’t that right Creature”. The sisters stopped their twirling and giggled. 

I gritted my teeth and willed myself to keep quiet. This is tactic number one for them, complaining about the order before it’s even been opened. I have no clue why, there can’t be a single driver that would take a bite of this apple. We may not know what it is we’re delivering, but we damn well know who it’s being delivered to every time. Besides, I’ve made this run enough times to know that the Elizabeth’s only call us for three things, and I’ve yet to ever get it wrong. 

“Well Elizabeth 1, I think that maybe Creature should put it right back into the truck and take it back to Bug, of course that will make it VERY hard to get back here by 6, won’t it. The sisters sucked their teeth in a chiding sing song. 

“First off , I said lifting the box and carrying it towards the trailer door “ I know for a fact what it is, because Bug told me. Second, it’s a van not a truck and I know that both of you know the difference.” 

The sisters rushed after me, using their collective mass to force me inside. This was the second tactic, get me inside as a captive audience for their fuckery as they wore down the clock. The box was almost weightless and so I wiggled around with it until I had them beside me and not behind. I set it down against the door and spun myself around so I could face them both. 

“Ok, here you go, one box of hair, no comments about its origins, and it looks like it’s just about 5:48 ladies, so I will be taking your digital sig, my credits and the lovely memory of both your faces.” I found that flattery mixed with efficiency was an effective defense. 

Both of them frowned, lowering their parasols. “Oh but we wanted to talk to you Creature.” one of them said, her voice genuinely tinged with sadness. 

“Yes yes, let’s talk inside. You can’t have very many deliveries to get to after this, and we promise to sign our names right now on your little pad thingy before we even get started.” This was all lies, of course. Tactic number three was to lure someone inside their trailer, magically find a bottle of real booze they’d been saving for a special occasion and before you knew it you were too drunk to check the time. I fell for it just the one time, coaxed by vodka in a real glass bottle and a clean cup. I still remembered the taste of it, alcohol untainted by gasoline or paint thinner, it had tasted like a cold spring and fresh dirt. It had been good, but not good enough to go without for the rest of the month. 

“No, ladies I’m sorry but I have miles to go, and only a pinch of rock salt left to carry me back to the depot. Now let’s see you sign for me and I’ll be on my way.” 

The sisters flocked closer, surrounding me as I headed towards the van. “No, no come on you have to stay for just one drink, it’s a special day after all.” 

I shook my head, that was tactic number 4. “Sorry ladies, but every day is special and if I drank the kind of stuff you manage to scrounge up, I’d never be sober again. So let's go, sign the digital slip and I will give you both a kiss goodbye.” 

“But Elizabeth 2 and I are fighting and we need your help.” the sisters pouted and stomped the ground. 

This was tactic number 5, intrigue. There was always some fight or problem that needed my immediate attention the closer I got to freedom. Besides, I knew what it was before they even started. The Elizabeths are predictable only in their squabbles. I spun around and pointed a finger at one of them, I didn’t much care who I was aiming at. 

“Ok, today it’s you, you’re number 1 today. You’re the Elizabeth supreme ok.” 

The sisters laughed. “Oh creature, that's not the problem, we finally sorted that out and now, forever and always there’s an Elizabeth 1 and Elizabeth 2 with no take backs.” 

I could feel my feet slowing down. This was a new one, a new tactic that I had not encountered before. As long as I’d known them, the sisters had lived in a perpetual cycle of Elizabeth supremacy. I had never known them not to start each day in a battle to be Elizabeth 1. They had written lists and an imagined criteria of points and deductions that determined who was the closest to being the original babydoll. Hell, the hair I just delivered to them was most likely for another batch of wigs. The sisters had long since gone gray and sparse, but they made wig after wig of yellow curls just to look like their baby sister. Sometimes, the sisters fluctuated so quickly between 1 and 2 that they could start the day and end the day in exactly the same order three times over. Not once, had I ever heard them ever declare a truce. Fuck, it was irritatingly interesting, my body already knew it, I could feel my legs starting to turn.

Wasteland Chick

Seriously, the police are at my house right now because someone snitched. ANYways, Greetings and Salutations, fellow Wasteland Chicks! If today’s hand-photo edited meme was not a good enough clue, I am not continuing Coconut Shrimp because I do not have enough motivation to do it right now 😔. Sorry to all who were looking forward to the next edition, I promise it will be here soon! For now, y’all will have to be held over with a classic review of the song “Love Like You” from the show Steven Universe by the great Rebecca Sugar. Woah, that was a hell of a conjunction contraction! Never show this to my English teacher. Anyway, firstly let’s tackle with a ten pound metal door the rhythm and melody, which I give a 9 out of ten. The gentle piano beats and I love how the lyrics describe feeling confused on why people love you so much when they seem to be much better, and self-depricatingly yet jazzily wishing that you could love yourself the way they love you. But, my absolute favorite lyric out of the entire song is :”I always thought I might be bad, now I’m sure that it’s true, ‘cuz….I think you’re so good, and I’m nothing like you!” *cutely steals for OC’s* Anyway, I just really love this lyric because it perfectly adds the feeling of feeling so worthless compared to others you really love, but being so confused as to why they love you so much. Relatable and sad at the same time, which is honestly perfect for the show, and as many viewers have commented, it feels like Rose Quartz singing to Steven about her love and hopes for him! In conclusion (I have to practice for RICAS somehow), I give this song a 11 out of ten: The rhythm and melody are jazzy yet gentle, and the lyrics capture a show-accurate and life-accurate experience that makes for great viewing and great listening. Try not to explode during the tests of life, fellow Wasteland Chicks. See you all next time!

Sincerely, Wasteland Chick

The Fight Report by Chessy Renee

Love is the strongest spell / do it for the love - it’s this week’s fight report Strap on in and put on a smock cuz we’re gonna get sappy today. 

You ever loved someone so much that you just cry about it for several hours? No?? How have you not??? – Well… for those of you who don’t know, allow me to paint a explain: 

I have a headache from how much I have cried today. Right now, just thinking about trying to express my feelings, my vision feels like it is shrinking from the space my welling tears are starting to occupy in my eye sockets. It’s all because my long distance friend is leaving me at the end of the week. 

When you’ve loved someone and lost someone you can’t undo the knowledge of that kind of pain - as you continue to love, you can have these moments of understanding and anticipation of the loss you will inevitably experience due to that love. It’s knowing that the joy you feel, the freedom, the safety, the calm, the assurance that comes with loving someone so much - will have to end once you part ways. They will go and you will go. You can’t hold on - or else the only thing(s) you can hold onto is the memories of these moments you’ve had together… and even those may leave you overtime. 

It reminds me of movements in this country that have pushed people to remember and speak the names of all of the people who have been gunned down and otherwise murdered by state sanctioned forces. It’s painfully apparent to me and my friend that when they leave they’ll go 

back to a country where people don’t even really have a concept of the type of violence that is so normalized in ours. They left the U.S. over 10 years ago to try to get themselves out of harm’s way, and now, as they work toward residency in their new country - with all of its own, quite different imperialist flaws - they worry for all of their loved ones who are still here. 

I think sometimes about when and how I will die in America. I hope it’s not too soon, and I hope too that I will get to be a part of making things better before I go. We’ll see. 

I never met him but my mothers’ mothers’ father was a man who took great care to put details to anything that could at one point or another become a memorialized object. He recorded names on photographs and put his initials on everything he worked on or came across. He had a real understanding of how to not forget and how to not be forgotten - he had a particular concern in preserving details for posterity and more so he had a practice of recording these details anywhere and everywhere he could. 

A few times with my mom I have looked back at a letter my great grandfather wrote to his daughter, my grandmother, after his wife died - in it I can hear the pain he felt in that time. He maintained this sense of detail in it though, not in a cold way but almost like a historical journalist or something, I don’t know if that is a job title, but if it were he would have been great at it. I’m sure that he cried as he wrote what he did to his daughter about her his love and grief over the loss of her mother. He still wrote it though.

So today I decided to sit and write about the grief that I feel in this moment. A moment where I am so so happy and grateful - so much so that I can’t even enjoy it because the anticipated loss overwhelms me. 

I think about not just my great grandfather, but the countless people who have written or made art or music through their grief and through their pain, while sitting with it. Not shirking away or hiding or masking their pain for the sake of themselves - or the sake of not making others feel uncomfortable. Fuck that dude. If I’m gonna fucking cry about something, believe I’m gonna wail about it. I’ll be red and there’ll be snot smeared on my face, motherfucker - and I’m still gonna show up and show myself in the light of day and everybody’ll just have to deal with it - or get out of the fucking way.

With that, I will leave you with some fights to continue, or to join in on: 

City Life / Vida Urbana which is a really rad organizing group in boston is hiring a few organizer positions and one director position, check it out - https://www.clvu.org/jobs
Make your calls - 5calls.org 

And as always, bring food to your local community fridge: 

https://boston.eater.com/maps/community-fridges-boston 

And keep being yourselves dudes, no matter how sappy you might get 🖤

Feels like Spring is here and getting back out of the house again. Even saw a pretty ripping Monkees cover band at Myrtle that had the 60 and 70 year olds dancing, haha. Fun time for sure. We made the trip up to Cambridge to see the Esoteric Shorts selection of the Boston Underground film festival as Rag Mag's own Coco Roy's new short film Lo Sciocco (the fool) premiered. Coco scored this one herself and the sounds matched the overall dreamy feeling of the whole film. Loved it. And so great to see so many familiar faces in the cast. The entire shorts collection was fun and it is always inspiring to see the art and film that your neighbors are making. That said, I loved the fact that Lo Sciocco was the only short that was actually shot on film (16 mm) and it really showed on the nice screen at the brattle. such a fun afternoon!

And Coco is always so damn busy she got me out of the house the next weekend for another hour plus drive to see the last Electric Street Queens show featuring Humanoids, Orange Whip (!!!), and Sherman. Sherman came dressed as Coco and fucking killed it as the Acoustic Sidewalk Kings. So good! Humanoids opened sounding somewhere between man-o-war and judas priest and people were having fun. Orange Whip killed it with a perfect short set, in out, everything fucking great. And opening with Sacrifice by Flipper put a huge smile on my face. Too much to say about how much fun it is to see the queens live, but Coco zinging everyone in the crowd with an extended version of the middle school classic Diarrhea had everyone laughing. And of course since its the queens, had to end it with multiple stooges covers. long live the queens

Let's be honest, I listen to music pretty much non-stop, so in addition to the soundtrack to the issue and the records of the week, I've also been working my way through the La Musica records tape reissues that Black Editions put out. This week I wanted to focus on one that is becoming a fast favorite that I had never even heard of before these reissues came out, Doo Dah Nean by Nean.

This is a total fucking weirdo zoner and the liner notes provide less help than the music itself. "Totally bizarre work - exotic rhythms and avant-garde improv collide with flying lolita vocals. 100% lolita essence, ultra acid." I cannot tell you what the fuck that means, but this record is minimal electronic sounds, drums, and the sound of a woman clearing her throat repeatedly and somehow transports you to a different space and time. Truly psychedelic music. While they don't sound anything alike, I've been pairing with some psychedelic faves like Vermonster, Velvets and the almighty monoshock. Recommended for a late evening in, alone and stoned as king tuff would say.

Doo Dah Nean, by Nean

8 track album

Neanterryfunku

Records of the Week

Damn, do I talk about music too much? First up this week is a happy and noise punk 7" from philly punks Condumb on Stupid Bag records (nice touch with the crass logo). Fast, catchy noise punk in the classic Kyushu tradition and I always love this shit. Bouncy catchy songs overlaid with ear piercing noise always seems to work for me. I love that they reference their music as psychedelic as I've always felt such a strong connection between heavy psych and noise punk. This fucking rips

CONDUMB, by CONDUMB

6 track album

CONDUMBB

Up next is a first time issue of an unreleased 1979 session by first wave punks Jorgen & the Disgusting Riot on Slyngel Records. 2 song 45 with a pretty fun cover of blitkrieg bop on the b-side, but the original musikens makt keeps getting the spins from me. Catchy 77 style punk and I am sucker for swedish punk. Dunno how mandatory, but this should make any first wave punk nerd happy. No links here cuz I can't find this online, good luck

Soul Song of the Day

Soul song of the day is Foolish Me by Johnny Bragg, a nice sad doo wop/r&b number from the leader of The Prisonaires, a group comprised of Tennessee State Penitentiary inmates. Falsely imprisoned with his sentence later commuted due to falsification of witness testimony, he was sadly in in and out of jail on bs charges for a lot of his life. What a voice and what a song.

That's it for this week's Rag Mag. Here's some flyers and keep sending stuff in (ragmagclub@proton.me).