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Christina Madonia – whom you may now know as recording artist CHRISTINA CARTER – reviews fanzines in a free record store publication in late 1991.

My own Superdope fanzine from that time is reviewed here, and I believe my quotes come from a pre-internet interview Christina did with me via mail.

BLOAT was a well-done publication back in an era when record stores like Houston, TX’s Sound Exchange actually made enough money to support such an endeavor. 

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CURIOSITY IN STOUT SHOES was a short-lived (one issue?) fanzine put out by Christina Madonia in Austin, TX. Very soon thereafter she married one Tom Carter, moved to Houston, and became the Christina Carter whom we know and love from Charalambidies and solo recording fame.

She put together a fanzine very much in keeping with the earthy, ethereal, poetic and dissonant nature of her music. We were in touch pretty frequently back then – by letter, kids – we didn’t have no internet – and I was sorta stunned after pulling it out of a box last week to even see myself thanked in this issue from about 1991, for providing encouragement. Hey, I didn’t do nothin’.

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THE CHARALAMBIDES were  – and may very well remain, for all I know – a Houston-based band who continued well into the ‘00s after putting out a number of self-released tapes and records, as well as a much-hailed series of experimental psychedelic/folk LPs on Siltbreeze. I actually got to know the band’s Christina Carter via mail back when she was Christina-something-else, and working in a record store in Austin. She and her later-husband Tom Carter showed me a fantastic time in Houston once around 1994 or so when I was visiting on a business trip; taking me to an Indian restaurant, playing me records at their house and then drinking on the lawn at Rice University. Almost – almost – made me want to move to Houston, for about five minutes. 

For years my favorite thing by them has been this 5-minute accordion instrumental that was almost a throwaway near the end of a side on their “Historic 6th Ward” LP from 1994. It’s called “Now The Day Is Over”. Let it lull you into a pleasant chin-on-hands stupor.