Because the quiet days are far behind us. Because it is far from over except for the shouting. Because the wheat must be separated from the chaff. Because of these reasons and many more too obvious or obscure to point out, Jesí Grew is in front of you right now. The day is here when Town Hall must become too big for its breeches. Our beloved record label, venue, and way of life must be propagated beyond the fullest extent of the law. For the unfortunate fact is that few people know of us, and those who do have not been made to fear us sufficiently yet. The most efficient and insidious way to perform this task (aside from our music, which we have already committed our utmost resources to) is through the printed word. Every organization needs a mouthpiece. And until now, Town Hall only had its tunes to make itself known. Hence, this zine, where every sentence, every word, every letter will be carved on the paper with a poison pen, withering to the bone those who deserve it the most.
These pages will contain verse and prose, interviews and articles, ramblings and reviews, cartoons and chicanery. This will be everything and nothing. Everything because the gamut will be run like never sprinted before. Nothing because no preservatives or artificial flavorings will be added. No sideways glances or pithy smirks. Everything you need to know will be here, with no sugar coating. It is what it is. There are no hidden agendas here. We draw our lines in the sand and we intend to keep them by any means necessary. If you are more comfortable in the bland one-size-fits-all wardrobes of irony and self-referencing, by all means, go shop elsewhere. Thereís nothing for you in this brutal boutique.
It is hoped that after reading this, that some of you will be inspired to contribute to upcoming issues with your own brand of caustic tomfoolery. Diversity breeds creativity, after all. The more voices, the louder the chorus. We also hope that some of you become inspired to run off and do something of this ilk on your own, tailored to your own needs. The more the merrier, we say. As well, we hope that some of you will be inspired to realize the sham of a life that you have been living and change your soulless ways. We will not begrudge your sins of the past, and will even kill the fatted calf for our prodigal child. Finally, we even hope that some of you will be inspired to read us the riot act in your local nasty ink-smudged newspapers and insular ghetto-scenes. No publicity is bad publicity. We judge ourselves as much by who hates us as who loves us.
Now go. React. We did our work. The ball is in your court. Shake your ass or call your Congressman. But DO SOMETHING. Itís only a life if you use it, and no one can return the leftover portions.
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