First we had no intention of sneaking out of the back door like adulterers in the night, we're not done with the incomprehensible propaganda yet and there was such an overload of information to lay on your frail intellects, such a gorgeous display of terminal confusion and unexplained phenomena to report and inflict on your village sensibilities as well as much local cliquey foulness to deposit on your elegant rug and offend your world-conscious sophistication (we welcome all types - even the proxy thrill seekers who go slumming thru our X-rated binges), there was so much to give and share and communicate (oh what a sense of duty) that even Jah Jah the old tea head himself couldn't have stopped this cultural apotheosis. A man with a mission delivers the goods, and when many are involved and they all come thru (take a bow boys and girls) watch out, timber, the impact might kill you. Potent stuff everywhere, droogies, a panoramic scope without equal even if it occasionally blurs out, stunning absence of manifestos and editorial unity (meaning respect in the reader and a stand still at the office), obscure beliefs exhumed from the tomb, cover symbolism (Indian land and punk music meet with...) that doubles as a fashion exclusive. No one asked for it but we can't resist showing off, there was more but you can only take so much of a good thing. And you ought to know when to stop. Like now?"
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[Notes by Mark Vallen]
This last issue of Slash not only introduced US readers to bands like Adam & The Ants and the enormously influential anarchist outfit, Crass, it also presented interviews with movie director Sam Fuller (The Big Red One) and science fiction author Phillip K. Dick. Two years after Dick's 1980 interview with Slash his short story, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, was made into the movie Blade Runner. Directed by Ridley Scott, the film made use of punk aesthetics in fashion and actually recruited punks from LA clubs as stand-ins.