Andy Allison hasn't written much professionally, has minimal clout in the entertainment industry, and knows a little about an awful lot of music. Why would you listen to him, you ask yourself? Because he sure makes a bunch of fucking sense! Man, this fool's got more LPs, cassettes, cassingles, 78s, reel-to-reels and wax cylinders than a bag of 10 motherfuckers. Yeah, he has pack rat issues. Andy's taken several thousand pictures of his stuffed walrus, drives a big fat Cadillac and takes residence on the East Coast. You should pay attention to what he writes. Then you can write email and argue about what you've read; as if it'll do any good, because you're wrong!
Outsideleft exists on a precarious no budget budget. We are interested in hearing from deep and deeper pocket types willing to underwrite our cultural vulture activity. We're not so interested in plastering your product all over our stories, but something more subtle and dignified for all parties concerned. Contact us and let's talk. [HELP OUTSIDELEFT]
If Outsideleft had arms they would always be wide open and welcoming to new writers and new ideas. If you've got something to say, something a small dank corner of the world needs to know about, a poem to publish, a book review, a short story, if you love music or the arts or anything else, write something about it and send it along. Of course we don't have anything as conformist as a budget here. But we'd love to see what you can do. Write for Outsideleft, do. [SUBMISSIONS FORM HERE]