….ladies and gentlemen and every one in between…may i have your attention please? From way way uptown to downtown, to Chinatown, and back around. Coast to Coast like buttered toast its your hosts,,, the lords of the liquor store, the Dukes of the dime bag, the Earls of EBT… the one and only, Chainsaw Magazine, not to be confused with “Chainsaw”, a punk zine edited by “Charlie Chainsaw” published in suburban Croydon in 1977 of which fourteen issues were released before ceasing publication in 1984.
On July 4th, 1776, America declared its independence from the crown of England, severing the umbilical cord of old-world tyranny with a bloody quill and a hail of musket fire. Exactly two hundred years to the day—July 4th, 1976—we sent our own localized retaliation back across the Atlantic. Four Spanish brothers from Queens, clad in musty leather jackets and armed with three-chord chainsaws, plugged into the amps at the Roundhouse in London and blew the British empire to smithereens all over again.
Now, fifty years after the Ramones first crossed that pond to colonize the English consciousness with the high-speed gospel of Cretin Hop, we present you with this: the absolute best magazine on the face of the planet.
It makes a strange kind of cosmic sense.
When I was just a stray kid with my ear pressed against the speaker fabric, listening to the buzz-saw assault of “Chainsaw” off that first Ramones LP, my prepubescent brain didn’t hear the lyrics right. While Joey was barking about a cinematic slaughter up in the lone star state, I didn’t hear “Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” My fractured, rock-addled mind distinctly heard them shout “Texas Chainsaw Magazine!”
It was a beautiful, static-drenched hallucination. I thought they were singing about a publication so sharp, so abrasive, and so relentlessly fast that it could rip through the polite fabric of society like a Stihl engine roaring to life in a quiet suburb. I spent decades looking for that magazine on the racks. I never found it. So, naturally, we had to invent it.
But let’s establish some ground rules before you start flipping through these ink-stained pages looking for a letters column or a subscription card.
What you hold in your sweaty, trembling hands right now is a demo. A blueprint. A raw, bleeding proof of concept whipped up to show the money men and the skeletal suits exactly what happens when you let the lunatics run the printing press. This is a visual garage tape recorded on a cheap cassette—rough around the edges, overloading the master meters, and dripping with the kind of low-rent genius that you can’t manufacture in a corporate boardroom.
We are laying down the tracks, kicking the amplifiers until they stop buzzing, and setting the tone. It’s loud, it’s ugly, it’s completely uncompromised, and it’s exactly what you’ve been waiting for since 1976. Read it, burn it, or use it to line a birdcage—just know that the machine has officially started.
Jake Phelps…in memoriam
Story By Ellis Jones
I was skating at cherry park during the height of the hot girl summer in 2019. Lizzo was on the radio asking why men gotta be great… until its time to become brave. The air was filled with the mist of a thousand white claws and the scent of popeyes fried chicken sandwiches loomed in the streets of Long Beach. In retrospect I refer to this summer as the last truly free summer. Before the viral events of 2020. It may have been the last TRUE summer but it was the first one without there being a Jake Phelps on earth. Some young snarky shithead came up to me and said you kinda remind me of jake phelps
i said i get that alot.
He said “ but you are like Fake Phelps”
“Skateboarding teaches you how to take a fall properly. If you try to kickflip down some stairs, it might take you thirty tries – and you just learn how to take a tumble out of it without getting hurt.” – Bam Margera
“Skateboarding doesn’t make you a skateboarder. Not being able to stop skateboarding makes you a skateboarder.” – Lance Mountain
“Skateboarding is a way to let your body control the mind.” – Chris Cole
“I consider skateboarding an art form, a lifestyle, and a sport.” – Tony Hawk
“Skateboarding is not a hobby. And it’s not a sport. It’s a way of life.” – Ian MacKaye
“Skateboarding is not about landing a trick, it’s about trying until you do.” – Ellis Jones
“Skateboarding is like the mafia, once you’re in, you’re in. There’s no getting out.” – Steve Berra
“Skateboarding is a constant challenge. You’re always trying to push yourself to accomplish something that seems impossible.” – Ryan Sheckler
“Skateboarding doesn’t owe us anything. We owe skateboarding.” – Jason Lee
J.Lee and his airwalk shoe are very important to me. But I’m pretty sure that quote “Skateboarding doesn’t owe us anything. We owe skateboarding.” belongs to the fabled, and profoundly prolific, Jake Phelps.
Jake Phelps was a legendary figure in the skateboarding community, best known as the editor of Thrasher Magazine. He was born on September 26, 1962, and grew up in California and Boston. Phelps was deeply passionate about skateboarding from a young age and became heavily involved in the skateboarding scene. In 1993, Jake Phelps took on the role of editor at Thrasher Magazine, one of the most influential publications in skateboarding culture. Under his leadership, Thrasher became known for its raw and unapologetic coverage of skateboarding, showcasing the sport’s rebellious and anti-establishment ethos. Phelps was renowned for his no-nonsense attitude and commitment to authenticity. He was fiercely dedicated to preserving the integrity of skateboarding and was not afraid to speak his mind, even if it meant ruffling feathers within the industry. Throughout his tenure at Thrasher, Jake Phelps played a pivotal role in shaping skateboarding culture and elevating the sport to new heights of mainstream recognition. He championed up-and-coming skaters, supported grassroots skateboarding events, and provided a platform for the underground skate scene to thrive. Jake Phelps passed away on March 14, 2019, at the age of 56. Phelps’ legacy lives on through his contributions to skateboarding and his enduring impact on the culture. He will always be remembered as a larger-than-life figure who fearlessly pushed the boundaries of what skateboarding could achieve.
I got introduced to Jake Phelps by the pages of thrasher magazine. Jake was an important character in the skateboarding world to me simply because of the glasses. It wasnt cool to have glasses, probably still isnt. My dad Davey would tell me you gotta get rid of these buddy holly glasses if you want people to take you seriously. Then I open up thrasher and i see a guy who looks like me and in my head I’m like well what does my dad know anyway… you can look like this AND be the editor of a magazine.
Jake was the Alfred E. Newman of Thrasher and Thrasher was my only connection to my true self when I was locked up in juvenile prison.
Fast forward to my early twenties Jake starts a band called “bad shit” and in the Mark Gonzales issue of the journal he says “we are bad shit. There is good shit out there but we are bad shit.” that always stuck with me and is pretty much my credo for any and all of the artwork i make. For i am “the dreamer of dreams and the music maker.”
Probably a year or so after reading that i saw Bad Shit play at a bar in Orlando during a trade show. The band started to play and Ed Selego broke a pint glass and grabbed Angel Ramirez and put him in a headlock. When The band finished i was trying to clear the way for mick e reyes but i wasnt fast enough and he grabbed me and threw me out of the way and escorted BS through the crowd. I tried to fight mickey outside. I was pissed he mishandled me. The next day my boss at skatepark of tampa asked what happened i told him he said you gotta let that shit go mickey is gnarly he used to be a cop. Almost immediately as we are having this conversation mickey comes up with a deranged smile and was poking me and teasing me about my outburst. Then Phelps showed up and said is this him? this is the guy? I took my glasses off and said if you guys are gonna fuck me up just dont break my glasses. Jake laughed and left and mikey put me in a head lock and took me over to the mini ramp where TNT was attempting a bomb drop off the extension. Gabe morford shot the photo and im in the back ground drinking beer. Less that two years earlier i was sitting in jail reading thrasher jacking off to hubba ads and now im in the mag.
Years went by and I’m skating through the mission and I skate into delirium and who is sitting there drinking Yeager, in the middle of the day, reading the paper? Yep Mick E Reyes. He bought me a shot and told me all the mysteries of SF skateboarding like heath painting the clipper ledge red. I asked him about a hometown hero from florida and when he was gonna turn pro for the eagle and he said never. That they just give kids boards forever so their home shop will buy boards from deluxe with no hope of turning them pro. And the kid was and i quote a “ jaded old man” so it wasn’t gonna happen. Mick asked what I was doing in the city I told him trimming weed and narrating a tour on the double decker buses downtown. I told him I was putting skate tourism stuff in there about the pier and union and black rock and about Frank Gerwer bombing Lombard street. He thought that was sick
A couple weeks later i was leaving the potrero skatepark walking down 24th to go get a dollar hamms at pops bar. This was that period of time between when the potrero park opened and when andy roy and his minions took the park over. a bunch of skaters had just got pinched for open beers so i bailed out and skipped the ticket and im crossing york, Who the fuck pulls up in a decomissioned cop car with front end damage.
You guessed it. The Phelper.
Millhouse, get in!
Im good man. I’m just gonna grab a beer.
Im not asking you millhouse. lets go.
I hop in the car and Phelps just peels off, not stopping at any stop sign or light down 24th street.
So youre here now. Why?
Come on. You know why man.
No, why?
Because Florida sucks. The Phelper hated Florida with a passion and (legend has it it all stems from one skatepark of tampa employee who invoiced thrasher for a table jake broke at a tampa pro. After that it was fuck the whole state of florida. forever.)
So I’m your dad.
No davey jones is my dad.
No I’m not saying im your dad, dum dum, thats what people are saying you are my long lost son… Mick tells me you are doing skate tours.
Not really just like key points of skate history, if there is a skater on the bus, and of course lombard street and frank.
So you are here now what are you gonna do you gonna try and do the skate thing?
No way man i just wanna smoke these northern california tweeds and bomb some of these hills.
What hills do you wanna hit?
I had my eye on Monterey out in Glen Park. From Sunnyside to Bart.
You dont got that. Said Phelps.
Bullshit. I got that.
Jake immediately changes directions and starts heading out to GP. the whole way hes giving me a skate tour now. Cardiel did this, Shao did that, Wade Speyer… ETCETERA. We get to sunnyside. I got out of the car and with out hesitation i bomb Monterey and the Phelper speeds ahead of me. i made it all the way down the hill and slipped out at the turn before Bart. When I fell i landed on my left wrist fracturing the bottom of my radius. Phelps pulled up beside me and said millhouse dont give a fuuuuuck!!! get some millhouse!!! WELCOME TO SKATEBOARDING!!! BART IS THAT WAY!!!! He let out a howl and sped off and left me in GP.
So I hopped bart to the fidi and went to north beach. I was skating in dirk dirksen alley off broadway and i fell on the bad wrist so i went inside a tiki bar on broadway called the bamboo hut. The bartender gave me a big bag of ice for my arm. I noticed he had a chocolate shirt on and i asked if he skated and he said no but that chico brenes was his cousin, by marriage. I got to know Mario well and we played music together and he taught me to DJ.
I think about that day alot. Phelps asked me flat out, are you in San Francisco to really do the skateboard thing or what? You didn’t come here for no reason. He forced me to put my money where my mouth is, when i claimed a hill bomb on Monterey. And that slip and fall at the very end nullifying the attempt. the glee on phelps face when i grabbed my wrist and winced in pain. Then of all places I land in a bar with a skate sympathizer who puts me on a path of the recording arts and disc jockeying as a job. I would see Phelps here and there over the years and he would always tell me you are gonna be successful at something one day. I just dont know what… but it aint gonna be skateboarding.
I took offense the first time he said it. Later He clarified “look you are a survivor millhouse you come to SF and you are riding a bus around giving tours day one, you did that. You break your arm bombing monterey and you turn it into a book deal and a “dj career” you are always gonna land on your feet but for you to be involved in skating would be an injustice to your potential and youd be taking up a spot in skating someone needs because there are guys out here can barely tie their shoes they need a spot in skating. Not you.”
I was djing the bamboo hut years and years later and its like four o’clock the fidi hasn’t let out yet and the strippers have barely warmed up the poles. And who comes in with a board under his arm? Yep. he bee lined it to me like he knew i was the one playing the venom record. He clenched a fist and screamed along with the song. BLACK METAL! I forgot you djed out here olde thrillhouse what do you got back there?
I let the Phelper dig through the crate and make some selections. Then damen who worked at the lust lady and cooked the tater tots at benders walked in and he i and jake drank gingerales and beer and listen to tunes Jake played by proxy. Then Jake told stories about old broadway in the 80s, how “it was a warzone” punkers and metal heads going at it.
I got my book deal and got the fuck out of the city. I hold up in the pacific northwest doing a character study. I came down to SF all the time to DJ and see friends. The last time I saw Jake Phelps I was riding the 49 van ness sitting in the back left seat. the bus stops and a psychotic and screaming street person gets on and starts raising hell. At the next stop a number of riders board and the last to get on the bus? the first to refuse to pay? Yep. skateboard under his arm hood up collar up on the vest. I wasn’t in a jake mood. But the homeless lady covered in piss and shit was between us and she started to move closer to me which gave me no choice but to go stand in the billow directly in front of jake.
Millhouse. the fucking. most. its been a while. Bomb any hills lately!? He said with a smirk
Nah i think those days are behind me.
Where you been i dont see you no more.
I’m out the way now. Up in Washington.
Whats in Washington?
Babes. Concrete skateparks. Working on music. You want a tape?
He got a serious look on his face and said fuck yea i want a tape.
I gave him a tape he inspected it and said Ellis Jones like Ellis and Jones Streets? The most doped out block in the fuck L?!
Yea.
Thats your name? Ellis Jones, not Millhouse?
I said yea my parents arent sadists they didnt name me after nixon and the millhouse character front the simpsons hadnt been invented yet.
So Ellis Jones your name?
No, it’s a pen name.
So you come out here and you wanna attach yourself to the city and rename yourself ellis jones?
First of all you are always claiming SF but i heard you were from boston Ellis & Jones was an old zine name like that we did at an apartment at ellis and jones and then the zine became the ellis jones inn like “jonesing” then i broke my arm AGAIN and i went to the hospital and told them my name was ellis jones.
Whered you go general?
Nah saint francis that is the fastest emergency room known to mankind its like they got an express lane.
And they bought that there? Its right up the hill from Ellis and Jones.
None of them are from the city its all doctors that went to ucsb or sd or both. They wanted to talk more about my skateboard and tattoos than my name. The only one that wasnt buying it was the lady at the end who makes sure you are gonna pay your bill. She didnt buy it for a second. But…
Its not what they know but what they can prove. Jake took the words outta my mouth. So you think youve earned the right to use that moniker?
Its just a pen name man, and the last time I checked Jack London wasnt from London, he was from Oakland.
Yea so what? So you are jack london now i thought it was ellis jones?
Jake got off the bus at the next stop and i saw him shove my cassette tape into his vest pocket.
After i got my book deal i was doing writing retreats in omaha in the winter time and the omaha winter can go pretty late into the year. I remember the day i got the news. It had been a bad snow storm and a heat wave came through and melted a bunch of snow banks and caused flooding all over the heartland. But it cleared the sidewalks in Hanscom park long enough for me to attempt to bomb what i have dubbed “dead mans run”. As i have only successfully bombed it once and it was the day Jake left the earth.
Dead man’s run starts at the corner of Woolworth and Park Avenue you follow the sidewalk and make sure to stay to the left for the right is sudden death and then it gets fast real fast it doesnt look like it but its a sidewalk you got nowhere to go. i caught the wobbles half way through and swang two big swings of the trucks and i was in the mud with a separated shoulder. I used all my might to get up and unknowingly popped it back into place. Then with the adrenaline buzzing i went back to the corner and tic tacked into the hill this time and made it all the way to Hanscom Lake for Jake.
Now injured, AGAIN, I retired to my studio to do the only thing I have ever been able to do when im hurt. Write. I rummaged through my old pages and fished out a copy of the first and only letter i ever wrote to Thrasher Magazine in the summer of 2004 while incarcerated in the Mandela Boys Home in Port Richey Florida.
***
ATTN: Thrasher Magazine
High Speed Productions Inc.
1303 Underwood Ave
San Francisco, CA 94124
To Whom It May Concern:
I saw a Daniel Johnston illustration that said “skateboarding is a great way to get ahead of the rat race” (paraphrase).
Its been said before something to the tune of “the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result”.
It is my belief that skateboarding is a cure for insanity because you can exercise your need to attempt the insane but come out with a different result. And I agree with that, skateboarding can be a healthy activity for unhealthy minds. its thinking you can jamm this thing into a curb and glide on into your future. That’s insane, then trying is nuts too, but if you make it it cancels all that insanity out. Now does that sound like insanity? Or does that sound like an experiment?
In skateboarding you have to learn to do the impossible. wrong. First. Follow me… You have to learn the safest way to fall when you fail to make the trick first try. You have to expect failure and plan for it but strive to succeed in the experiment. You learn how to fail the right way. so in the repeated attempts to make the impossible possible and the insane, sane, you do not take a physical toll so great you may not be able to attempt further.
An experiment is a scientific procedure designed to test a hypothesis, investigate a phenomenon, or answer a specific research question. “ can i jamm my trucks into that curb and grind into the future?” It involves carefully controlled manipulation of variables in order to observe the effects or outcomes. Sounds like an experiment to me.
Skateboarding in and of its self is a testable prediction or statement about the relationship between variables, based on existing knowledge or theory. Just looking at one i feel its possibilities in a primal part of my brain like one of my ancestors was doing ancient heel flips and getting kicked out for skating in front of the Roman colosseum.
“Thou must go from here with thyn rollerboards”
Why thou art trippith thyn honor? There are no gladiators on the day of the moon!
It is an order of the emperor that there are no roller boards on colosseum properties. You must go or suffer thyn sword.
skateboards can be manipulated, measured, or observed in the experiment. The independent variable is manipulated by the researcher, while the dependent variable is measured to assess its response to changes in the independent variable.
Skate boarders plan or layout of the experiment, including procedures for manipulating variables, controlling extraneous factors, and collecting data.
Skateboarders as a group and/or individuals in the experiment are treated identically to the experimental group except for the manipulation of the independent variable. It provides a baseline for comparison to assess the effects of the independent variable. This irrefutable truth is known as “Kook law”. Or the ”unwritten rules of the skateboard underworld.” as some would call it. We are all judged by the same unit of measure. Not grams or inches or milliter. We gague the experiment in units of stoke.
As a skate boarder you participate in an experiment that receives the treatment or manipulation of the independent variable. All the while engaging in the systematic collection of observations or measurements relevant to the research question or hypothesis…can i jamm my board into that curb and grind out an audacious noise? Statistical or qualitative analysis of the data collected to determine whether the results support or refute the hypothesis. Did i do it? Yes i did. Am i stoked? Yes i am. And questions; why?
And after the dust settles on the grand victory of seeing the experiment through. Out comes a blood thirsty carnivore. As evil as the hounds that gard hades and as brutal as the dogs of war.
The hater. I think we can all agree the hater does a little bit more than share their Interpretation of the results of the experiment and discuss its implications, including limitations of the study and suggestions for further research.
No, no. we all know its a little bit uglier than that. On this planet earth, there prowls a creature of grotesque visage and insatiable appetite, known to mortals as the hater. A vile amalgamation of a blood thirsty wolf of willful ignorance and a culture coyote of conformity, the hater embodies the darkest depths of the skaters psyche, a primal force of malevolence and malice.
With eyes like hot coals, and empty souls, the hater stalks its prey with a cunning born of the void. The haters’ snarl reverberates through the desolate wastelands, a sonata of primal fury and unbridled aggression. For the hater knows no mercy, no remorse; the hater is driven by a voracious hunger that can never be sated.
The hater kills not out of necessity, nor out of hunger, but out of sheer delight in the act of killing. Each victim becomes a canvas upon which it paints its macabre masterpiece of suffering and despair. It revels in the terror of its prey, relishing the taste of fear as if it were the sweetest nectar.
The Hater or (playericus hatteras). prowls the shadows, seeking to extinguish the light of others with its venomous words and deceitful schemes. The hater, thrives on the misery of others. It seeks not to build, but to tear down; not to uplift, but to destroy. the hater, it is driven by a singular obsession with dominance and control, blinded by its own twisted desires, agents of chaos, spreading misery and despair wherever they roam. And though their forms may differ, their essence remains unchanged
Let us take a journey into the masturbatorial mind of a modern hater. You see, being a hater can stem from various motives and perspectives, and it’s not necessarily purely evil or self-indulgent. skaters hold themselves and others to extremely high standards, leading them to be highly critical of any perceived flaws or shortcomings in the artform. This perfectionistic tendency may come from a desire for excellence or a fear of mediocrity. Be gentle to the hater. harsh criticism of others’ can sometimes be a reflection of the critic’s own insecurities or feelings of inadequacy. By tearing down the work of others, they may seek to bolster their own sense of superiority or worth. To them i say just because i shine… doesnt mean you dont shine, so shine on shiney. Then i shine them.
To the romantic hater. Relax. I understand that in some cases, harsh criticism may stem from a strong personal artistic vision or aesthetic preferences. The critic may have a specific vision for what constitutes good art and feel compelled to critique work that deviates from their ideals. And why shouldnt one be able to do so? We have christians stuffing their doctrines up our noses.
To the teachers. The carries of the tradition. The helpful hater with their constructive criticism it can be a valuable tool for skaters seeking to improve their craft. Some haters may adopt a harsh tone in their feedback as a means of pushing skaters to strive for greater excellence or to challenge them to think critically about their work.
Yours Truly
Ellis Jones
Chainsaw Magazine 