SEVEN INCHES TO FREEDOM #9: $2, 5½” x 8½”, copied, 48 pgs.

Nov 20, 2012

I can’t quite remember the formula—I always get it confused with dog years—but at twenty-eight, SITF’s Joe Lachut clocks in at somewhere around forty-five-years-old in punk years. As far as this zine is concerned, that’s a damn good thing. One of the main articles in this issue is about how well punk is aging, and how gracefully punks can age in punk (does that make sense?). While the author isn’t quite sure, this zine itself is a pretty good case for the virility of “aging” punks. Put together with the self-assured touch of someone who has been laying out inserts and writing lyrics for years, this zine stands out because that mastery is paired with Joe’s confident and intimate knowledge of exactly what punk means to him (although he would say “hardcore”). This takes form each issue in his interviews, essays, reviews, and more. With a handful of contributors, this zine reads to me like a smaller-scale MRR with its own distinct flavor, and that is definitely preferable to all this material just being contributed to MRR or Give Me Back in little pieces. “100% music zines have no personality,” Joe writes, reviewing another zine, “and 100% per-zines have no hardcore in them.” That Joe finds a dilemma there should give you a pretty good idea of what this zine is about. An ironic and infuriating highlight is when a contributor talks about getting turned off by the fucked up things that pop punk kids say, and then calls them “mongoloids.” Uh, fuck that too, man! –Dave Brainwreck (Joe Lachut, PO Box 457, Ft. Myers, FL, 33902-0457)