What is Nemesis To Go?

It's a webzine - a fanzine on the web. You might have also heard the term e-zine used in this context, although personally I always feel that should refer to something that arrives by email. If it's a zine on the web, it's a webzine.

It's put together by me, Michael Johnson. That's me, staring quizzically out of the photo on the right.

In these virtual pages, I shoot the breeze, call the shots, and generally hold forth about music. I review gigs, festivals and recordings, and interview assorted artists who I think are interesting to know about. There's also an ever-growing selection of photos of bands in full effect on stage, taken by me in my trademark 'point and pray' photographic style.

Mostly, I cover stuff that happens around London, because that's where I am. But the rest of planet Earth is represented from time to time.

There are, of course, many other music zines and blogs around the web which also do this kind of stuff, and it could be said that the world doesn't need yet another. But you know what? Tough shit, world. Nemesis To Go is here.

Why is it called Nemesis To Go?

'Nemesis' because it's my all-purpose nickname and trading name - see below for how that came about. 'To Go' because you can take it away, like a burger in a bun. Erm, if you've got a small enough computer, of course. And a bun. I admit I'm on shaky ground, conceptually, here. But I do get to make that frightfully clever connection between the name of the zine and the URL of the front page. 

And anyway, all the good names were taken.

However, at least I'm in the fine tradition of fanzines with baffling names. From Attack On Bzag, years ago, to the (rather fine, actually) Kitten Painting of today, or even Edinburgh's most amphibious music blog, Song, By Toad, giving your zine a strange name is almost an unwritten law of the fanzine world. Long may the strangeness continue, is what I say. I originally took the word 'Nemesis' from the title of a song from one of my favourite bands, Shriekback. Here they are, performing their 1985 non-hit in glorious extravaganzo-vision. What were they on? That's what happens when an over-abundance of imagination meets a major label promotion budget, I think. Anyway, there you have my source. The rest of the story now follows...

Well - how did you get here?

I was too young for punk, but I knew something was out there. As a youngster I'd sit up late on school nights, listening to the John Peel show on BBC Radio One - the first radio show to play punk, and all that came after. That was my musical education: the John Peel Distance Learning Course in weird and interesting noises.

When the art/glam mutatations of post-punk started to appear, I jumped into the moshpit with both pointy-boot clad feet - literally. I spent the early 80s living in a cockroach-infested bedsit in Earl's Court, spending my dole money on gigs, beer...and pointy boots. Actually, my life hasn't changed all that much. My diet is healthier, and I no longer live in a bedsit, but I still own a pair of pointy boots, I still like the art/glam mutations of post-punk, and I'm still up for a gig.

Kicking around London in the early 80s, going to gigs at the likes of the Lyceum, the Hammersmith Palais, the Clarendon and the Marquee, I saw the early heroes of post-punk in the first flush of their success. Siouxsie And the Banshees with John McGeoch on guitar, the original Killing Joke line-up, the Sisters Of Mercy before Wayne Hussey showed up and slowed it down. I saw the Virgin Prunes getting bottled off stage by an outraged crowd when they supported Theatre Of Hate. I was down the front for Bauhaus, Ausgang, Southern Death Cult, and UK Decay. I was moshed and squashed at gigs by The Cramps and The Damned; I got my art-rock mojo on with Danielle Dax, Jah Wobble, Cabaret Voltaire, 23 Skidoo, and Lydia Lunch. I even saw Shriekback a few times.

I saw Sonic Youth when they were no-wave weirdos. I saw Hole before Courtney Love became an all-purpose rock celeb (and I have a letter from her in which she advises me to 'fuck off and do something with your life!'). I saw Babes In Toyland supported by some unknown punk chyk from Dorset called Polly Harvey. I even saw U2, when they were just another band on the alternative rock circuit. I thought they were ridiculously overblown pompous rubbish, and I have never had occasion to change that view.

I stuck my head into the bass bins of the Tackhead Sound System. I flailed foolishly on the dancefloors of the Torture Garden and Slimelight. I built up a large and haphazard record collection - everything from the Shop Assistants to the Bassheads. In my time I've put in time at techno clubs under the Westway and indie pubs in Camden. These days you're likely to find me lurking in murky rock 'n' roll basements in the East End of London - and listening to Tom Ravenscroft on BBC 6 Music. Plus ça change, eh?

I suppose it was inevitable that I would end up putting on gigs myself. That was in 1995. Things snowballed. Somewhat to my surprise, Nemesis Promotions (there it is: my Shriekback-inspired trading name) became one of London's principal promoters in the goth/industrial and related areas. At one time, I was the only such promoter in town. Strange to think of it now, when every other person in that particular milieu now seems to be a promoter of some sort. Once, there was only me.

Faith & The Muse, Switchblade Symphony, London After Midnight, and Project Pitchfork, among others, made their London debuts at my shows. 90s heroes such as Rosetta Stone, Manuskript, and Children On Stun were regular stars. Dream City Film Club brought their low-life angst to my stage. Sunshot shot it up. I booked Clan Of Xymox for the first time in the UK for over a decade. I booked Covenant when they were obscure and cheap. Their manager mentioned the band's fee and I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from exclaiming, "Is that all?" I was probably the last UK promoter to get the band at a bargain price. Lovely chaps, even though they turned their noses up at the cheapskate Aldi own-brand cola I'd given them on the rider. They wanted the real thing!

Unfortunately I don't believe any videos actually made at my gigs exist. This was the 90s: video was big science. But here are a couple of my stars, with their own visuals. This is what we'd get up to, back then... On the right, Switchblade Symphony perform 'Clown' - and inadvertently invent Witch House ten years early. Proof that 90s goth wasn't all about gruff-voiced blokes in leather. It's interesting to speculate that if Switchblade Symphony formed today, they'd fit in neatly somewhere between Lady Gaga and Ebsen And The Witch, and they'd probably be hailed as the coolest thing in town. We were so far ahead of ourselves back then - and we didn't even know it.

And on the left, Dream City Film Club perform 'If I Die, I Die' - although this version isn't the original. For the first, rather more punk rock rendition of the song, track down the earlier recording, released on the band's debut EP on the Organ zine's label, Org Records. It's got lots of loud and fearsome guitars, which is what we like around here. But this version has a certain campfire spookiness. We like that, too. Both Switchblade Symphony and Dream City Film Club have now split. Tina Root, Switchblade Symphony's vocalist, subsequently formed TreLux and Small Halo. Michael J Sheehy, vocalist with Dream City Film Club, now performs solo and as part of Michael J Sheehy And The Hired Mourners.

In my years as a promoter I ended up doing a bit of every rock 'n' roll job you can think of - from tour management to humping gear, from ordering ticket print runs to sorting out the backstage catering. I became quite an expert on the arcane minutiae of rock 'n' roll logistics, such as splitter van hire and backline set-up. To this day I can discuss the merits of Ampeg and Trace Eliot bass amps in geeky detail. (I learned to dislike the Ampeg SVT-810 8x10 cabinet - great sound, sure, but it's a huge and heavy lump. And it always seemed to be me who had to carry the bloody thing up the stairs...) I was even registered at the Department Of Employment as an employer, so I could obtain international work permits for bands from outside the EU.

But my veneer of professionalism was very thin. It was often crazy chaos behind the scenes. I don't think any of my bands actually threw TV sets out of hotel room windows, but it came pretty close once or twice. It did occur to me several times over the years I spent as a promoter that my life had turned into 'Spinal Tap: The Goth Years'.

Somehow, along the way, I acquired the nickname 'Uncle Nemesis' or 'Uncle N'. Apparently, as a provider of entertainment I cut a rather avuncular figure. Well, there go my delusions of rock 'n' roll coolness.

I like to think my showbiz career was an artistic triumph, although frankly it was an unmitigated financial disaster from first gig to last. Being a promoter of live music in London at a time when club culture was in the ascendant was really just an extended exercise in shovelling money into a bottomless pit. And getting involved with goth-stuff at a time when the media at large didn't want to know was a masterpiece of bad timing.

Things are different now, of course. The music biz has come round to the idea that bands with a little something of the night about them are actually rather cool, and live music has come into its own again.

Maybe, in a small way, I helped to nudge things in that direction. I certainly carried a spluttering torch for loud, weird, live music at a time when it definitely wasn't fashionable to do so. I came out of the escapade with a large hole in my bank balance - only partly filled in, even now - and a nickname which endures to this day.

In 2001 I decided to step sideways. I've been a zine writer, photographer, and even a cartoonist of sorts for years - although, curiously enough, I've never done a zine of my own until now.

Getting back into the world of zines was a natural move, especially as the web had come along in the meantime. Courtesy of the web, non-mainstream music writing now has greater reach and clout than ever before. A heady prospect for anyone who, like me, compulsively holds forth about music at a moment's notice.

Between 2002 and 2005 I contributed reviews and photos to the US webzine Starvox - now closed, but much of my stuff is still there if you'd like to read it. In fact, as the StarVox archives show, I ended up writing the bulk of the content, certainly as far as live reviews were concerned. Eventually I realised it was rather silly for me to more or less carry a zine which ultimately belonged to someone else. So in 2006 I opened up my own rock 'n' roll takeaway, Nemesis To Go. You're tucking in to it now.

I'm quietly proud of the fact that my webzine has scooped the mainstream music media on several occasions, getting in on the ground floor with bands that only later gained wider recognition. I was covering bands such as R O M A N C E, Ulterior, O. Children, These New Puritans, and S.C.U.M anything up to three years before Big Media paid any attention. Indeed, sometimes I've had the distinct feeling that the NME is following me around. On occasions I've flagged up interesting new bands, only to see the NME 'discover' them shortly afterwards. However it happened, it's nice that they noticed - but I was there first.

Even Artrocker magazine, which usually scuttles in the door before the NME has even got out of bed, has ended up following me - at a safe distance. Artrocker's November 2011 Artery interview covered almost exactly the same ground as my Artery interview - of two years previously. Do try to keep up at the back, there.

Strangely, I seem to have ended up as the key crossover point between the goth scene and the darker end of contemporary post-punk. An obscure nexus, I'll grant you, and not the busiest intersection in town - although you might be surprised to know who I've noticed passing by. In that particular area, I do appear to have had an influence. Fear not - I always use my powers for good.

What kind of music does Nemesis To Go cover?

The short answer to that one is 'anything that interests me'. But if you boil down all the bands mentioned above, simmer the resulting goo over a low flame until it begins to emit a funny smell - that, ladies and gentlemen, is what goes in to Nemesis To Go.

When are new issues of Nemesis To Go uploaded?

At irregular - sometimes very irregular - intervals.

Everything you see here is put together in whatever spare time I have after doing my day job and taking care of other aspects of my life. Much as I'd like to spend all my time investigating raucous bands in assorted subterranean dives, and then going home to fling merry quips about the experience onto the web, I've never found anyone willing to pay me a living wage to do so. (I mean, would you pay me to write this stuff?)

So, there may be lengthy gaps between new issues - but when the updates do arrive, the chances are they'll be big. New material is often previewed and trailed on Facebook, and in my LiveJournal and MySpace blog. Keep an eye on these locations for new photos, off-the-cuff comments about gigs I've been to, and general updates-between-the-updates.

How can I contact Nemesis To Go?

You can email me here.

You can contact me via my own Facebook page. Make any comments you like, or send messages to me via this location.

Nemesis To Go also has a Facebook fan page - by all means join it if you wish. The fan group was set up by others (who are all fine and wonderful people, obviously). I'm not involved, I don't provide content, and messages sent via this page will not get to me. Last time I looked, not much was happening there. If things don't liven up soon, I may remove this link...

Facebook isn't great for substantial content, so my lengthier blog entries, updates, photo previews, etc, go on LiveJournal and also in my MySpace blog. You can make any comments you like on my posts - again, everything is public. There are no filters and no restrictions (although I reserve the right to hit the delete button on you if necessary). Add yourself to my LiveJournal friends list and send me a MySpace friend request if you wish.

I'm on Last FM, too, although owing to lack of time on my part there's not much going on there. However, messages sent via the Last FM shoutbox will get to me.

At irregular intervals, I put brief updates, one-liners and general gnomic utterances on Twitter. Follow my every move!

Just to add the inevitable disclaimer - please note that if you're a band, being on any of my friends lists does not mean you'll get instant attention or guaranteed good reviews.

You can send hard-copy stuff to me at this address:

BCM Nemesis To Go, London WC1N 3XX

I never ask for promo material to be sent in - it's entirely your decision whether you send me stuff or not. I can't guarantee that you'll get a review, because sometimes there's just too much to wade through. Nor do I have time (or, frankly, the inclination) to reply to messages that say things like 'Hey - can we send you a promo CD?' or 'We sent you a promo CD last week - did you get it? What did you think of it?' You don't have to ask permission, and you don't have to engage me in conversation. If you want to send stuff in, send it. 'Nuff said.

Note for bands: don't assume your management, label, PR types or other rock 'n' roll middle men you may have on your team will send me a promo copy of your new release. In my experience, these music biz types sometimes do distinctly less work for the bands than the bands think they do. Regardless of what back-room support you think you've got, it's up to you to ensure that the right stuff is getting done.

I can't be responsible for anything that goes missing in the post. This has happened a few tmes in the past. Anything you send is at your own risk, I'm afraid. Don't send stuff via any delivery method that requires a signature - I don't actually live in that funny little box in London WC1, and I will not be able to sign for your package. Therefore, it'll probably vanish into some sort of postal limbo.

I'll accept music in digital form - nuthin' fancy, just normal mp3s will be fine, not too large. However, I can't be responsible for files that don't open, don't play, or otherwise fail to function. Digital files should represent a proper release that is formally available to anyone - I'm not here to give you an instant opinion on the bedroom techno track you flung up on the web last night after you got in from the pub.

Will you come and review my gig?

I can only give you a definite maybe. I do get to a fair few gigs - significantly more than most other zine proprietors, it must be said, some of whom seem to be languishing under house arrest, judging by the infrequency of their live music reviews. I'm quite the opposite. Live music is the engine that drives this ramshackle webzine.

But I can't get to every show in town. I have a day job and a life, which eat into my gigging opportunities...and anyway, sometimes I simply feel like a quiet night in. By all means alert me to your upcoming gigs if you wish, but I can't guarantee to be there.

By the way, just as I never ask for promo material to be sent to me, I never ask for guest list places, either. Sometimes bands or promoters are kind enough to offer, and sometimes I accept. But most of the time I buy my ticket like any other punter. This means that even if the bands don't like my review, they can console themselves with the thought that at least they've got my money. 

Can I be sure you'll give my band a good review?

In a word, no.

Everything I write is straight-from-the-shoulder opinion, unleavened with any hidden agendas, ulterior motives, or 'got to support the scene' artificial fluffiness. Unlike most mainstream music publications, I don't have any sponsors, backers, or industry partners who need to be kept sweet. I don't genuflect before record labels, bands, promoters, or anyone else - a rare approach in any corner of the music media these days.

While my reviews are not (usually) streams of bile and wormwood, please take on board the fact that I don't write promotional blurb. I write what I think. From time to time, this may not be quite the same as what you think.

When I was a live music promoter, nobody cut me any slack. I had to take criticism of my gigs on the chin with a grin, and cheerfully come back for more. Fair enough - that's the only way to play it. If I can cope with it, so can you.

It's true that some music publications (fanzines and magazines, online and off) operate blanket policies of saying nice things about everything. This may be due to a reluctance to rock the music biz boat, and make sure the adverts and promo items keep on coming. Or it may be due to genuine all-encompassing enthusiasm for the music itself - which is OK, although it's always wise to state this approach upfront before anyone gets the wrong idea.

But, either way, I think the result is the same. Many bands, labels, and promoters have become accustomed to receiving universally bland approval from the music media. Some bands may never have experienced anything else. On the rare occasions when they meet unfiltered opinions, they flip straight into the freak-out zone. Well, please freak out over my opinions if it makes you feel better. But I shall remain unmoved.

There is, of course, one advantage to this approach. You can be sure my reviews are the real deal. If I say nice things, you'll know I'm not dutifully trying to 'support the scene', or suck up to the record label, or appease my advertisers - and I'm certainly not trying to ingratiate myself with the artists because I want to be mates with the bands. Believe me, I saw enough gormless musos at close quarters during my years as a live music promoter to put me off being mates with bands for life.

As the great Jim Thirlwell once put it, 'Say what you mean, and say it mean.' Or, as I would have it, 'Say what you mean - and throw in a few jokes.' 

Can I contribute to Nemesis To Go?

I've always been open to the idea of getting a few contributors on board, if only because I can't go everywhere and do everything myself. There are gigs that I'd like to get to, albums that I'd like to review, bands that I'd like to interview - I'm aware that there's much going on out there that I simply can't cover because there's only one of me in here. So, yes, a few more hands on deck would be very useful.

But I want to avoid the trap I think some other webzines fall into: building up an extensive array of lavishly credited contributors, each with their impressive self-penned biography in which they portray themselves as God's gift to the music media, and yet who contribute very little real content. I have resolved that my train ain't gonna carry no passengers.

I suppose my ideal contributor would be another one of me. Someone who can go out and get the raw material, and then do both the photos and the words. Since I started up this webzine, one or two people people have approached me, wishing to take photos, or write reviews - but it's not easy to find anyone who is willing or able to do both, which is what I really want. Inevitably, the people who want to do the photos never want to go to the same gigs as the people who want to do the words.

I'm also looking for people who can write well. It's not that I regard myself as a giant of English literature, you understand, but at least I know where the commas and apostrophes go, which seems to be a rare skill in these ill-educated times. Only recently I found myself groaning in despair when I discovered Artrocker Magazine had namechecked the Arctic Monkey's. This, in a professional, mainstream music mag. I like to think I can do better than that.

I also like to think I have a touch of my own style. There are too many zines out there which are written in an oddly characterless format: dry and over-formal, clunky clichés sprinkled all over the place, without the writers putting anything of themselves into their work. That kind of thing just leaves me bored.

Someone once told me that reading my stuff was a bit like listening to me holding forth about music in the pub. I'm not sure if they meant that as a compliment, but I'll take it as such. At least it shows that when you read my stuff, you know it's me. And it's safe to go down the pub with me, knowing I (probably) won't go off on one about music. It's all here instead.

If you've read all the above, and you reckon that my hypothetical contributor bears a distinct resemblance to yourself, show me what you can do. No promises, mind. And, before you ask, no money, either. If this zine ever makes enough money for me to get paid, then I might be in a position to pay other people. To date, it doesn't, and I'm not.

Can I advertise in Nemesis To Go?

I've now signed up with Google AdSense, which automatically places advertising on the newer pages of this zine, based on the content of the pages. This is a quick and easy way of grabbing ads, but the ads themselves are not necessarily very relevant. For example, my Zola Jesus interview seems to attract religious ads, because Google picks up on the word 'Jesus'. That's obviously not doing anyone much good.

However, even if the ads were more relevant, I doubt if they'd pull in much of an income. The click-through rate on banner ads like the ones on this site is apparently 0.2% (info from here), which is obviously such a low figure only sites with massive traffic will ever generate any worthwhile cash.

Personally, I feel that paying per view, rather than per click, would be more realistic - after all, that's how advertising in print media or on TV works. The assumption that people will automatically interact with online ads just because it's technically possible to do so is just that - an assumption. An entire online advertising industry has grown up around the assumption that people will do something that, in fact, they by and large won't.

Because Google's auto-generated ads have such obvious limitations, I'm open to suggestions for more effective methods to get adverts that are relevant and generally a bit more for-real. Unless there's a specialist music-related ad-generating service out there (if you know of one, please tell me) I think the best plan is to sort it out myself. I never wanted to be an advertising salesperson, but I'm prepared to grit my teeth and do a bit of that if it's necessary.

So, if you're a band, a record label, a gig promoter, a T-shirt printer, or anyone supplying goods and services that are likely to be of interest to fans of left-field-ish music, email me and we'll work something out. I don't have a standard ad rate - I'll probably charge you anything from a pint of beer (if you're a DIY band) to as much hard cash as I can get away with (if you're a major record label). Results absolutely not guaranteed, of course. Don't run away with the idea that an ad on this zine will turn your band into superstars. It's not that easy, unfortunately.

I'm not daft enough to think that a few ads - however they're brought in - will make me a dot com millionaire. But, if nothing else, it would be useful to cover the cost of running around to all those gigs - and also meet the site's hosting costs, which are quite substantial. Mad optimistic fool that I am, I bought a lot of bandwidth.

It goes without saying (but I'll say it anyway) that buying an advert on Nemesis To Go will not buy you lavish coverage or good reviews. Yes, I know certain other music magazines work on exactly that basis - but I don't.

How is the Nemesis To Go site constructed?

Up to Issue 8, this webzine was mainly built with Dreamweaver 4, with a few bespoke HTML tweaks along the way. I have also used Fireworks 4 and Photoshop 7. The site was originally made with an old-school tables-based page layout. All that is ancient technology now, of course.

From Issue 9, I switched to a new CSS-based page layout, although I still use tables for laying out photos. It's quick and dirty, but it works. I'm now using Dreamweaver CS4, Photoshop CS4, and Fireworks CS5 (which in my view is now drastically over-complex, but at least they finally let you save images as jpgs. How long did it take 'em to include that feature?)

The entire site - new bits and old bits alike - should work well in any browser. I've checked the site in Safari, Opera, Firefox, Internet Explorer and and Netscape Navigator, and aside from minor browser differences, it all seems to work. Google Chrome looks OK, too, although I haven't tested the site extensively in this browser yet.

Internet Explorer might not show my favicon - the little 'N' icon in the browser address bar. There's a known issue with IE here (there's always a known issue with IE) and although I know various workarounds exist, I haven't quite been able to solve the problem yet. If you happen to have a quick fix for this one up your sleeve, I'm interested.

Is Nemesis To Go safe for my wife and servants to read?

Ah, it's time for a disclaimer.

Nemesis To Go is not what I would call an 'adult' website. It is not festooned with gratuitous pictures of hawt chyxx in states of undress, even if some of the bands do get a bit rock 'n' roll at times. However, I do employ the English language in all its expressive glory, without any foolish fig leaves of self-censorship. This means that if I'm moved to say fuck, I'll say fuck - and not f*ck, or f**k, or any other unconvincing 'I'm not really swearing, vicar' version.

Therefore, Nemesis To Go may not be entirely suitable reading matter for sensitive ickle kiddies, or indeed sensitive ickle adults. You must make your own decision here.

Privacy Policy:

A brief burst of legal small print:

As is common practice on most websites, I use log files to gather basic information about site traffic. These record internet protocol (IP) addresses, browser type, date and time of visit, entry and exit pages, numbers of unique users, search keywords, referring sites and search engines, etc. This information does not identify individuals. No personal information is gathered.

Third party vendors, including Google, use cookies to serve advertising on this site, specifically by means of the DoubleClick DART cookie. This enables Google to serve ads based on visits to this site and/or other sites on the Internet. You can opt out of the use of the DART cookie by visiting the advertising opt-out page on the Google website.

Go here - then click the 'Opt Out' button.

You can, of course, also disable cookies in your own web browser.

It's also worth noting that I am not responsible for the content of external links. If you follow a link from this site and discover something that fills you with seething disgust, existential woe, or otherwise gets you wailing and gnashing your teeth, don't come moaning to me, cuz it ain't my fault.

Any other questions?

If you want to know something that I haven't covered on this page, please ask me.