Ian Cone

​The 100 Biggest Assholes in Rock Issue, The Shit List Issue, The Overrated, The Rock Bible--Chunklet mastermind Henry Owings redefined the 'zine aesthetic with his deliciously wisecracking, ass-chewing tongue, dumping on everyone and their mother while taking a little bit of time to engage in some of his patented self-deprecation. (He is the same guy who emblazoned a Chunklet tee with the oh-so-perfect ethos "I Collect Records Because Pussy Hates Me," after all.)

Lately Owings has been occupied with his three-week-old daughter Charlotte--changing diapers, building a crib, having an extension built to his house. And then there's his latest publishing venture, which may indeed be Chunklet's zenith: the textbook-styled behemoth he calls The Indie Cred Test. Published with the assist of a Kickstarter campaign and compiled by Owings and a bevy of writers (including Voice scribe Christopher Weingarten), its sadistically thorough pop-culture aptitude tests include an "Online Music Journalist Application Form" and other multiple-choice quizzes and questionnaires. Once the "tests" are completed, you'll find out just how hip (or more likely, not hip) your pathetic ass really is.

I chatted with Owings while he was at his homestead in Atlanta; he answered questions lifted right from from The Indie Cred Test, addressed the misconceptions about his rep, and reflected on the book's dedicatee, the late drummer Jerry Fuchs.

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​Thursday, 7pm-11pm at Enid's in Greenpoint. More info and a collection of sad-making photos at the Washington City Paper.

Photo by Joshi Radin

​More horrific details are emerging regarding the tragic death of Jerry Fuchs early Sunday morning, the result of a fall down an elevator shaft of a building at 338 Berry Street with numerous code and safety violations on record with the DoB, including "Failure to Maintain Elevator." The Daily News has outed 24-year-old photographer Stephen Alessi as the other man in the elevator with Fuchs. The two men didn't know each other, but were headed to the same party when the elevator stalled. After 20 minutes, a party organizer and a person who appeared to work in the building helped Alessi and Fuchs pry the doors open. Alessi went first:

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​Jerry Fuchs, the beloved Brooklyn drummer whose death this weekend has inspired an outpouring of memorials and warm remembrances, solicited the exact same sense of awe, respect, and love when he was still alive. Fuchs was the subject of a profile in this paper back in 2007, pegged to very little except the drummer's then somewhat unknown ubiquity and virtuosity. Fuchs was loved. !!! vocalist/percussionist John Pugh, Turing Machine's Justin Chearno, and Maserati guitarist Coley Dennis all praised the drummer to writer Nikhil Swaminathan, who also spoke to Fuchs himself. "I stand to be home for no more than two days at a time," he told the Voice then. "I don't like to sit still."

Jerry Fuchs was that totally fucking amazing monster drummer you saw play in at least one show in the last 10 years--it could have been with Maserati, Turing Machine, !!!, or the Juan MacLean, as he completely decimated his hapless kit and mesmerized everyone no matter what band he was in. He died early Sunday morning after falling down an elevator shaft at a Williamsburg loft party. He was 34. Jerry was a friend, an inspiration, and one hell of a drummer. I say this with no exaggeration: New York will never sound the same.

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