 |
|
 |
||||||
|
||||||
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
 |
|
||||||||
|
|||||||||
 |
|||||||||
|
|||||||||
 |
|||||||||
|
|||||||||
| Home: European—yes, safe—no. Age: Old enough to go to the dentist, young enough not to care. Profession: Agents provocateurs. Hobbies: Smashing tape recorders, interpreting the U.S. for interested English art school students; paramilitary maneuvers; reading Margaret Drabble; creating cigarette smoke-free environments; birth control counseling; throwing the proverbial spanner into the works and living to sing about it. Last Book Read: Family Planning Perspectives by I. Reed Enemy. Last Accomplishment: Convincing the American public that they have indeed come for their promotion men, and it will do them a world of good. Quote: "My name is Eraserhead, and I can rub you out!" Profile: Gnawing at rock's soft underside like a crazed pack of rhythm buzzards; The Clash first started blitzkrieging the jaded tastes of the undead in the glory days of 1977 and haven't gotten fat yet; having torn the '70s apart, the last gang in town proceeds to rebuild the battered fuselage of the '80s with intelligence, style and nice shirts. Beer: Boy Howdy! |
 |
||||||||
|
|||||||||
Photo by Robert Matheu
