This zine seems so representative of where it comes from and its likely pinky-small scene—the grey and relegated flyover of Kansas City—that it’s more a piece of overlooked modern Americana than just a zine. Yes, you have the bad poetry, the odd photography, the confessionals. But the Xeroxed show posters and mix tape potluck notices and community radio shout outs that make up the majority of the magazine give you a snapshot of Kansas City, and a place called Troost Avenue, which, from what I gather, is where all the crazy, smelly kids hang out. Never in my life have I wanted to go to Kansas City (still don’t really), but this zine has made me genuinely curious about what they’ve got going on there. Usually, the best scenes are the ones that get wholly ignored. –Andrew Flanagan (Roadkill, 3324 Troost Avenue, Kansas City, MO64109)