Dave Carnie, the former editor-in-chief of the legendary Big Brother magazine, carved his name in skateboarding history by shattering conventions and pushing the boundaries of skate coverage. Known for his playful, irreverent, and often absurd approach, Carnie embodies the true spirit of skateboarding: fun, bold, and a little bit dumb. His recent move to CREEM, a music magazine with a similar rebellious ethos, raises questions about his transition and what he brings to the world of music journalism.
A Weirdly Synchronistic Path to CREEM
Carnie’s journey to CREEM was anything but conventional. While collecting magazines for his collages, he stumbled upon hundreds of old CREEM issues in a dumpster. He was immediately struck by the magazine’s similarities to Big Brother, recognizing its irreverent humor and rebellious stance against the music industry. Months later, a call from his friend John Martin, CEO of CREEM, led to a collaboration. Martin, having previously worked at Vice, sought to inject a bit of that “dumb, stupid attitude” into CREEM – a sensibility Carnie perfectly embodied. This strange series of events convinced Carnie to join the team, feeling it was too absurd to pass up.
The State of Media: Safe, Boring, and In Need of a Shake-Up
Carnie sees parallels between the current states of music and skateboarding media. Much like how Big Brother challenged the status quo in skateboarding, CREEM aimed to disrupt the often-sterile and overly-complimentary world of music journalism. He criticizes the mainstream media for being “very safe, everyone’s very nice and complementary, and ultimately kind of boring.” Carnie believes that both music and skateboarding are meant to be fun, but most media outlets take themselves too seriously. In his opinion, the world doesn’t need magazines, but publications like CREEM and Jenkem serve a purpose by shaking things up and providing entertainment.
The Interview Rule: If You Like Them, Don’t Interview Them
Carnie draws a parallel between musicians and skaters, noting that both are often precious about their public personas. He brings up the legendary CREEM writer Lester Bangs who famously said, “Musicians and rock stars are not your friends,” and that served as a guide for Big Brother’s interview approach. They had a rule that they wouldn’t allow anyone who liked the artist to interview them. This wasn’t meant to be mean-spirited, but rather to avoid sycophantic interviews. Carnie describes musicians as “cocksuckers” who are “arrogant and full of themselves,” due to the constant adoration they receive. This sets the stage for the type of ridiculous questions he and his team would ask, such as “Have you ever stuck your dick in a jar of peanut butter?”. He finds that musicians react in two ways: either being completely thrown off by the absurd line of questioning, or getting excited by the novelty of not being asked the same generic questions.
The Pedestal is Higher in Music Than Skateboarding
According to Carnie, the pedestal is much higher in music than in skateboarding. He notes that skateboarders are “dirtbags” who don’t make as much money as musicians. He explains that the music industry has more cultural influence than skateboarding. While skateboarders may be “rock stars” in a lowercase sense, musicians are “ROCK STARS” in a much larger, more impactful way. This difference in scale contributes to the expectation of reverence that Carnie finds prevalent in music.
Embracing Musical Ignorance and the Joy of Discovery
Carnie admits he doesn’t closely follow new music. In fact, he says he doesn’t “know anything” about music, which has surprisingly been a good thing. He enjoys learning about new music from his knowledgeable CREEM colleagues. This attitude of embracing ignorance, coupled with a willingness to learn, mirrors his approach to skateboarding in the past, where he often went against the grain.
From Classroom to Magazine: A Unique Path
Before his magazine days, Carnie was a teacher, working for a “weird school” called the Institute of Reading Development. He taught English, reading and literature and worked with both struggling students and those seeking to improve their reading abilities. He notes that teaching kids to read and fostering a love of books was the best part of his job. His love for literature is evident in a skater reading list he once made, which included authors like James Joyce and Samuel Beckett. He now feels a bit embarrassed by this list, viewing it as a boastful attempt at intellectual cosplay from his younger self.
Not Threatened by AI
Carnie does not feel threatened by the rise of AI or ChatGPT. He actually finds it “kind of cool” and is interested to see where it goes. He notes that while there have been numerous technological advances in how text is delivered over the past 5,000 years, the written word has remained essentially the same: “marks on a surface.” He dismisses concerns about the digital age and the survival of print, citing that writing has survived for over five millennia.
The Transition from Big Brother to The Skateboard Mag: A Culture Shock
Moving from Big Brother to The Skateboard Mag (TSM) was a significant adjustment for Carnie. He found that TSM had a very different level of sensitivity. He recounted two particular instances where his style clashed with the staff. One involved an interview with Duane Peters, where Carnie quoted Peters using a racial slur. Although he intended to show Peters’ character, it upset the staff, particularly Atiba Jefferson. This incident showed him that TSM was not interested in the same kind of controversy and polarization that he had grown accustomed to at Big Brother. The second incident involved a copy editor making spelling errors in his articles. He sent an email to the entire staff using harsh language to complain about it and found out the copy editor was the wife of another staff member, Grant Brittain.
Maintaining the Spirit of Provocation in a More Sensitive World
Carnie is well aware of how much the world has changed since his Big Brother days. He acknowledges that “the line” has moved closer but believes that they were always told they had crossed the line, even back then. He does not try to censor himself, but has found that “cancel culture has made being offensive a whole lot easier” and he uses that knowledge to his advantage.
The John Cardiel Incident: A Regretful Misstep
The only thing Carnie says he regrets from his entire career is the John Cardiel incident. In the early 2000s, when skateboarders started getting agents for commercial work, Big Brother decided to review several headshots. Cardiel’s photo was included, and Pat Canale wrote a somewhat critical caption that was misinterpreted as saying his “fire had gone out.” This upset Cardiel and others at Deluxe, leading to a boycott of Big Brother by Vans, who at the time was a major advertiser. This loss of revenue contributed to the magazine’s demise.
Honoring Skateboarding’s Literary Voices
When asked to name his favorite skate writers, Carnie humbly declines, but recognizes the contributions of his Big Brother colleagues, and mentions GSD (Gary Scott Davis) and Neil Blender as personal favorites for their unique writing styles. He points out GSD’s self-reflexive article which was about itself. This playfulness and self-awareness heavily influenced his own writing style and his approach to skateboarding. Carnie believes skateboarding is inherently self-referential and that’s what he loves about it.
Zine Culture and the Spirit of No Direction
Carnie acknowledges that Big Brother was heavily influenced by zine culture. He admired how the creators of zines would “out-weird each other”. He notes that there was no need to have a title or articles in a zine; one could write their stories by hand, draw on photos, and “do whatever the fuck you wanted.” This lack of direction and the ability to be unconventional became the driving force behind what they did at Big Brother. They hired Earl Parker, after seeing his zine Polyurethane Monthly because it was so different and weird, because they were drawn to this artsy side of skateboarding and all that came with it.
The Need for Stories Over Just Photos
Carnie finds skate photography beautiful, but also a bit lazy. He thinks it’s “kind of boring to fill an entire issue with just photos.” He criticizes photo annuals as “lazy” and believes magazines should prioritize storytelling and meaning. He wants to know more about the what’s going on rather than just seeing pretty pictures.
Do You Need to Skate to Write About Skateboarding?
Carnie answers that question with a resounding yes, stating that a writer needs to actively participate in skateboarding. He also believes that someone who has never stepped on a board probably wouldn’t be able to write about skateboarding well. However, Carnie acknowledges that skateboarding is a state of mind and that some who don’t actively skate still embody this spirit and can be considered skateboarders. He uses Fausto Vitello, the founder of Thrasher as an example. He also references skate photographers and videographers who are also considered skateboarders even though they are never seen on a board.
The Skateboarder State of Mind
Carnie uses Ken Block’s story as an example of how one can maintain the skateboarding spirit while not actually skateboarding. Although Ken Block ran a massive skateboarding company, he chose to focus more on the business side as he enjoyed it more than skateboarding. He says, “Skateboarding is frustrating to me because I like to be the best at everything I do and I am definitely not at my best on a skateboard now.” This reveals that he still retained the same state of mind as he brought the skater perspective to business. Keith Hufnagel said something similar once, that skaters learn self discipline which leads to a drive to succeed in any industry. Carnie believes anyone who embodies that spirit of skateboarding can carry that state of mind throughout their lives.
The Carnie Dildo
Carnie confirms he has a mold of his penis that he made for an article in Hustler. He mentions that he was going to use it for an action figure character at CREEM. He used to bring the dildo, which he nicknamed “Carnie Cock,” to work and throw it at people, making for a very unique work environment.
The Value of Words
Carnie does not think that words have become less valuable. He believes language will evolve regardless of his opinions and it would be absurd for him to be upset about it. He equates this to skateboarding and says that kids will decide the direction of the sport and that he gave up giving a shit about that a long time ago. However, he acknowledges that reading and writing are important for education, so he would be sad if words were less valued. He states that there are more pressing issues to worry about at the moment, like the future of the planet.
Offensive and Vulgar is the Name of the Game
Carnie addresses his ability to maintain his offensive and vulgar writing style, but doesn’t have an answer to it. He brings up a Jack White interview and how he said that he is just a conduit for the creativity that comes through him. Carnie feels that is similar to how he works. He doesn’t consciously think about what he’s doing, and will be more funny and obnoxious when he can get away with it. He says that his ideas come “a la minute,” and that he is just “in the kitchen, cooking up whatever everybody wants whenever they want it and hoping it tastes good.”
Conclusion
Dave Carnie’s transition from skateboarding provocateur to music mag maverick is a natural progression for someone who has always pushed boundaries and challenged conventions. He brings his unique blend of humor, irreverence, and absurdity to the world of music journalism. While his approach may be unconventional, it’s a breath of fresh air in a media landscape that often takes itself too seriously. Carnie’s journey is a reminder that staying true to your own unique voice can lead to unexpected and exciting places, and that sometimes, the best way to make a statement is to embrace the dumb, stupid attitude that made skateboarding so great.
Interview by: Alexis Castro
Photos courtesy of: Dave Carnie & Stefan Schwinghammer / Solo
