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Our Ill-Equipped Critics 

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To the editors:

After reading Bill Wyman's umpteenth lame attack on the band I'm in ["Pop '91," January 17], I'm reminded of some wise words from a local artist concerning critics in general and one in particular--"Fuck them, they're just eunuchs in a whorehouse."

Lenny Pincus

Chicago

PS: Apologies to Jae, Greg, Mark, Dan, Don, etc, etc, etc.

Bill Wyman replies:

I almost hate to say this, lest it serve to stem the flow of Pincus's continuing trenchant commentary on my writing, but I think his use of the word "umpteenth" is something of an overstatement. Several years ago, in another publication, I gave a list of popular local bands that (if I recall my wording correctly) were never going to set the world on fire, musically or philosophically. Pincus's group--he plays keyboards for a nightmarish frat band, Dick Holliday and the Bamboo Gang--was one of several outfits I named. It was hardly an attack, lame or otherwise.

Unless I'm blotting something out (which would almost be understandable), I think that was the first time I ever referred to the group in print, and the last until I made the comment that provoked this letter. Perhaps Pincus is still smarting from a cold-cocking he received at the hands of the New Duncan Imperials in this letters section a year or two ago. But that was the culmination of a set-to that Pincus started, the Imperials ended, and I had little to do with.

As for his friend's remark, at least he doesn't seem to have any question about what it is that Pincus does.

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