IT/53, March 28 - April 10, 1969 JOHN PEEL THIS evening there was a touch of spring and other good things in the cinema of the ICA. Principal Edwards Magic Theatre brought their raucous leviathan to The Mall filled with good things (mainly themselves) and played, danced, smiled and sang for a curiously immov- able audience. Sometimes their execution is not perfect, but at this stage of their collective development the intent is almost as important. What they do to the inner Peel is the same as the Misunderstood, Captain Beefheart and Tyranno- saurus Rex have done on other occasions. There is a feeling of a strange warmth that touches all parts of me, feels like cool, soft hair drawn infinitely slowly across the back. They radiate so much and if perhaps they seem to sometimes take themselves too seriously this is a false impression caused by their desire to give you everything they have to give of themselves in the short time they share with you. They have equipment problems some- times but the important thing is that Principal Edwards Magic Theatre IS and that they will, sooner or later, bring some colour into your life. Believe me — and I say that objectively even though I love them all very much — and am still a little afraid of them too. A flurry of gentle people phone apologetically from time to time from a project called LUNG. This is current- ly a magazine c/o Durning Hall, Earlham Grove, Forest Gate, E.7. They are trying to do good, warm things in the face of problems seldom experienced in the Velvet Trouser belt where IT is lying, unread, on scores of carefully casual tables. It would add to their sunshine if you offered yourself to them as soon as you can. If you come to London from the blessed countryside walk slowly around in W.ll. if you want to feel the best this town has to offer. Ignore the cinemas, theatres (ex- cept the Electric Cinema, of course) and enjoy the thera- peutic atmosphere of kindly, loving humankind. It would be nice to live there instead of in the dour cold wind of NW1. Plasticine is a nice thing to give people — that's what seven years old smells like. Finally you will soon be able to buy a British edition of some of the poems of Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen. I can't tell you who's the publisher be- cause my copy is bringing its strange, autumnal melan- choly to someone else s room. Bridget tells me that Brian Patten is living in London now. Wish him love and seek out his new book 'Notes to the Hurrying Man'. £1 if your fingers are slow — George Allen & Unwin. There are a great many records to talk of. First perhaps a mention of Record Books Ltd., York House, 37 Queen Square, London WC1., who have done a thing called 'The Gypsies' which has two records and many good photo- graphs. Also ponder the plight of Britain s gypsies who are repeatedly victimized by brutal authorities who want to show those over whom they hold sway that they are DOING SOMETHING. Gypsies are a minority group that / everyone can hate without too much conscience trouble — just like those with long-hair. Is it socially desirable to be a static? Apparently. Anyway, if you want to know what is really happening to gypsies — in fact if you want to know what is really happening period, then you MUST read PEACE NEWS which is currently available on a six week's trial offer for 5/- from 5 Caledonian Road, Lon- don Nl. I really believe it is much more important to read PEACE NEWS than anything else - including IT, OZ and the sundry other good things available. It will probably scare you quite a bit if you've not read it be- fore. How can we go on letting these thines happen? The answer is inside you and me. Please subscribe soon. Back to records (you could get 37 editions of Peace News for the price of that LP), there are a great many good things around, pending, overdue. Many of them have been discussed at great length and with greater wisdom by Simon and Miles (to whom love) but for- give my duplication of effort anyway. Even if you're not really jazzed over country things, I don't believe anyone could fail to be impressed by the Flying Burrito Bros, imported on A & M (soon for Bri- tish release). There are some really nice fusions of coun- try sounds with what probably would be described as 'west-coast' noises. There are no weak tracks on the record — the highlights are 'Christine's Tune', 'My Uncle' (dance to an anti-draft song), 'Wheels', which has a sort of sliding fuzzy guitar bit on it that is a huge treat and 'Hippie Boy'. Also the FBB look good too — although lacking the soaring nubility quotient of the two ladies on the sleeve. In the same general area of endeavour hear also 'Dr. Byrds & Mr. Hyde' on CBS whose Rock Machine may creep up behind our ludicrous government and tickle them until they crack apart and turn to dust. Favourites here are 'Old Blue'