01 August 2011

...Now In Lemon

Excitement is like a wheelbarrow. It has one wheel and two handles.


Excitement is like a stretcher. It has a paramedic either end.

No. Still not right.

Excitement is like a rip tide. You can get carried away in it.

Yes. Let's go with that.

With an excitement borne from the impending delivery of a new fanzine, I eagerly pledged to write a piece on it, a review if you will. Dead excited I was. Rubbing hands together excited. Now I sit here, on the bus, the fanzine under my arm, still very excited but also unsure of what to say or where to begin. Apart from this preamble, I mean, where do I start? At page one? Yes. That's a start. Page one.

So I've been sent the first edition of a new fanzine and straight out of the block it's wrongfooted me, all dressed in blue but called 'Now In Lemon'. Already I know we'll be pals. Like all good fanzines, it delivers what the fans want: lo-fi, free badge, served in an earthy brown envelope. It pushes all the right buttons in making NME fanboy nostalgia ping the corners of my eyes.

At this point, I should lay my cards on the table, just in case I want to make a future bid for BSkyB. Someone who sits not six feet away from me at work is one of two people behind the project. A talent. A fellow designer. A friend. Hence my alacrity, then apprehension, at fulfilling my own hurried brief of attempting a nonpartisan review.

Hello, and welcome back to part two of this Now In Lemon special review. Coming up: The goings-on of camo-clad Ross Kemp; meta ghosts; fur and mortality; crusifixations; and the number 23. But first we speak to Will Weaver about this snazzy new cottage industry paper, and ask What do you really think about this fanzine?

What do I really think? To be honest, I don't want to spoil anything. Part of Now In Lemon's charm is the surprise, so I can only impart my obfuscated opinion. What I can say is this...

The reader is taken from absurd to very funny to unnerving from the turn of each page. It's a project publication, so you get the makers' heart right there on the page, in ink which appears to be hanging on to the A5 sheet for dear life. A lovely honesty emerges, helped in part by Footprint, the co-op printer of this old-school analogue format sympathetic to the tone of the ideas and art. In turn, a certain fuzzy warmth encircles the whole zine which would otherwise be compromised filtered through the cold, harsh VGA display of an onscreen blog.

A well metered observation of the human soul via black ink and earnest paper stock, Now In Lemon is a brief visit which never outstays its welcome but rather, didn't stop long enough. Looking forward to issue 2 already.

Get it here: nowinlemon.com