With love to Kat and Dan and thanks to all the amazing people who answered my questions.
I was fifteen years old when I first fell in love with the lo-fi ideals of do-it-yourself culture, with the idea of producing a zine or a recording for yourself and passing it on to others. I was excited by the thought that you could use the resources available to you a piece of paper, a battered guitar, a cheap tape-recorder to cross the boundary between who consumes and who creates. It was empowering to realize that anyone, however amateur, could produce something which would be valued as a finished product. In a society where the publishing and music industries are shaped by profit-margins, what is radical about the participants of this scene is that they simply want to exchange information about the bands, gigs, zines etc they have found exciting. The primary aim is to build unique idealized networks in which anyone can participate. Michal Cupid, an independent promoter from Bristol, explains that members of the DIY underground arent, fixated with the promise of money, they are people who want to do something just to see it happen.
When I first began to investigate the origins of the DIY ethic, I found that similar ways of working and familiar styles echo throughout different communities, repeating themselves over and over. The lo-fi approach appears in many forms: music, visual art, film, craft, writing, political activism, social protest. However, this book concentrates on underground movements where DIY and lo-fi ideals are translated into words and music: two fundamental areas where DIY culture has always had a long history and continues to flourish.
In the printed underground, zines are joined by independent magazines and newspapers, created with similar ideas and with the recurring ambition to simply put words into print. The 1930s sci-fi zine, the dada art zine, the chapbook created by beat writers in the 1950s, small-scale radical magazines of the 1960s, punk zines of the 1970s, the zine explosion of the 1990s, online blogs and guerilla newsreporting of today all started with individuals sharing a similar DIY ethos: the urge to create a new cultural form and transmit it to others on your own terms.
The DIY vision has become central to the underground music scene also, with the lo-fi ideals of skiffle groups in the 1950s, the punks of the 1970s, post-punk and the 80s indie scene enduring to the present day. Subverting the term hi-fi, lo-fi music refers to a musical style in opposition to high production values. Encompassing an ideology that has been both championed and ridiculed over the decades, for some, this is the only way they are willing to make music, to others it represents an annoyingly shambolic, amateur style. It is, however, this celebration of the amateur that is at the heart of DIY scene in both music and literature a celebration that continues today.
New technology has had a high impact on DIY culture, it is now easier to do-it-yourself than ever before. Though embracing the high-tech may seem in opposition to lo-fi creation, advancements like the internet enable a more far-reaching distribution of DIY publications than ever before. The independant ethos of the lo-fi approach has remained and the rise of the DIY movement continues. As Mark Perry infamously wrote in the punk zine Sniffin Glue, Heres a picture of a chord and another one and another one now go and form your own band!. Whether your interest is music, literature or otherwise, it really is that simple to become involved. Well, why not?
Amy Spencer, 2005
A Platform for the Individual
The Writer
Zines are non-commercial, small-circulation publications which are produced and distributed by their creators. Generally the zine writer is not a professional writer, nor are they being paid for their efforts, so who exactly is producing zines and why? The basic appeal of creating these home-made magazines is easy to see the opportunity to write whatever you want and tap into a willing audience, with no restrictions. The drawbacks are just as obvious the time it takes to produce the zine as well as the costs involved. Many zine writers barely break even on their expenses.
Fredric Wertham, a New York psychiatrist, became interested in the fanzine phenomenon in the early 40s, while researching the links between psychology and literature. His work at first focused on the negative effects that popular culture could potentially have on an individual. He became well respected on the subject and invited to give evidence before the Senate Subcommittee on Juvenile Delinquency in the 1950s. By the 1970s, he began to shift his attention to comic fandom subcultures. He tried to find out why people were publishing their own zines when they could instead be reading the mainstream commercial magazines. Instead of criticizing their work, he became intrigued by the fanzine founders by their lack of commercial motivation and their celebration of the amateur writer. He later published these findings in his book The World of Fanzines so the man who warned America of the dangers of popular culture became one of the first academics to be intrigued by underground publishing. In his book Wertham explains that: Zines give a voice to the everyday anonymous person. The basic idea is that someone sits down, writes, collects, draws or edits a bunch of stuff they are interested in or care deeply about, photocopies or prints up some copies of it and distributes it. The zine creating process is a direct one, remaining under the writers control at all times. Perhaps its outstanding facet is that it exists without any outside interference, without any control from above, without any censorship, without any supervision or manipulation. This is no mere formal matter; it goes to the heart of what fanzines are.
Zine writers are constantly asked why they write their zine. If they have something to say, why dont they submit their work to mainstream magazines and newspapers? The reasons are as varied as the zines they produce. Some aim to relieve a sense of boredom or loneliness. Some want to feel part of a wider community. Some want to discuss their personal obsessions. Others want to validate their lives and make people understand their way of thinking. There are also those who use zines as a means of distributing information and resources to others.
Money is rarely a motivation to start writing a zine, as they are frequently created on a small budget and sold for little or no profit. In reality, as many zine writers will not break even on their printing costs, it seems odd that they are willing to invest the time and money into these paper projects. However, after the initial idea to begin a zine, the process can become addictive. The writer has an outlet to express their ideas and experiences the enjoyment of physically designing the layout of the zine and putting together the finished product.
Since their beginnings in the sci-fi community of the 30s, zines have been traded amongst writers and it continues to be common practice for them to swap zines. This enables both parties involved to avoid commercial dealings and idealistically reverts the process back to a time when exchange of goods was more common than monetary exchange. A code of etiquette has therefore developed that involves sending trades, writing personal letters and reviewing each others zines in your own. The zine is viewed differently from a commercial product. It resembles a gift more than a product, as it typically bypasses the profit motive. The flow of zines, and the personal network that has developed around them, resembles human contact. The zine is passed physically through the network connecting people together, sharing the sense of solidarity in their interest in the underground of independent culture.