Joe Godfroy, Bridge & Tunnel
‘I’m a hospitality worker in the day and magazine editor in the night,’ explains Joe Godfroy as he introduces Bridge & Tunnel, a magazine inspired by the gonzo-journalism he grew up on.
The small, 56-page magazine presents as a slightly austere black and white zine; open its pages, though, and you find a rich vein of humour running through its pages. It portrays contemporary Britain in the way only the British can, laughing lovingly at everything from scammers and cosmetic surgery to the disappearance of high-street stores and gambling via bingo apps.
Joe tells us more about his editorial inspirations as he shares his week ahead, travelling through South East Asia.
What are you doing this morning?
These days it’s rare for me to see Monday mornings. I work at a bar Wednesday to Sunday so my weekend is more of a weekstart, leaving Monday mornings to snooze in bed dreaming of back massages on a desert island or summer 2016. This Monday is slightly different however, I’m in the midst of travelling through South East Asia as I gather content for the second issue of Bridge & Tunnel, so right now I’m committed to a 12 hour bus journey from Bangkok to Surat Thani, a regrettable decision for someone known to get car sick from just the thought of Milton Keynes.
If you had asked me about my Monday morning routine a week ago I’d have probably said I don’t really have one. Now however, with everything of familiarity being stripped from me at Heathrow Terminal 3, I’m quickly realising that back home in England I did (sort-of) have a routine. For me banana Weetabix were an essential to starting my morning right, accompanied by an Aeropress coffee and a scroll through Instagram that could last anywhere between two minutes and two hours.
For now however, such a routine is on pause while I speed down to the south of Thailand. Breakfast today is a packet of Walkers crisps, some crackers, and a cucumber salad. I was about to suggest ‘at least I’ve got my routine instagram scroll to enjoy’, but I’ve just been notified I’m on my final megabyte of data, so even that will have to wait.
Describe your work environment
It’s difficult for me to describe my work environment because it’s always changing, not daily but hourly. I like to start at my bedroom desk, after all that’s where my laptop sits to charge. Here you’ll find a pin-board covered with postcards, random stickers collected over the years, and a photo of David Bowie staring judgementally down at me.
Sitting either side of the desk are my speakers, most often projecting the god-sent voice of Stevie Wonder, or the less heavenly tones of the greatest punk band of all time: Bad Brains. From here I’ll move to my kitchen table… or maybe my sofa… or perhaps a cafe.
Truly the only thing consistent about each space I find myself working within is the fact there’s always grey skies outside; if it was sunny I’d be outside frolicking in the grass instead. I suppose then that if I had to name my “work environment” it would be miserable weather. That or my shoes; I’ll ritually wear shoes when I’m working on the magazine. I’ve convinced myself that I work more productively when I’m dressed to be outside, sure it might be a placebo, but it works (possibly).
Which magazine do you first remember?
I think it was probably Thrasher; What’s cooler for a 10-year-old boy than someone twice his age throwing themselves across a 20ft drop with only a flimsy piece of wood on wheels to save them. In fact it was skate culture that opened up my love for print media in the first place. Every time I bought a new skate deck it would come with a selection of free skate magazines which, over time, began to form the basis of my collection of all sorts of zines and mags in the years to come.
Aside from yours, what’s your favourite magazine?
It’s got to be the Vice magazine of the early 2000s. I see them as the reason I started Bridge & Tunnel in the first place. They were the ones to introduce me to gonzo-journalism, not just through the writing but also the artistic direction. The cover of their ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll’ book, with the girl lying on her back smiling, remains one of my favourite photos of all time; it perfectly represents the gritty and raw attitude they stood to embody at the time. The humour, intelligence and uncensored nature of pre-instagram Vice completely enraptured my 12-year-old mind, and continues to do so to this day.
What other piece of media would you recommend? And why?
Throughout issue one, my personal love for film and cinema is clear, specifically DVDs. Their superiority to streaming is equal to that between print media and reading pixels off a screen, especially ones which include little booklets with bonus information on the film that others would be otherwise be unaware of. The one benefit of DVDs being relegated as relics of the nineties is that people like me can get hold of them for cheap.
Right now you can go on Ebay and buy a dusty crate of a hundred DVDs for the cost of a Tesco meal deal and a lighter—and that’s with the shipping included! In comparison Netflix will have you reaching into the depths of your wallet for an at-best mediocre selection of films that you don’t even own. You do the maths.
Describe Bridge & Tunnel in three words
Fairly
Decent
Start
…Or so I’d like to think.
And the name?
The project’s aim from the very beginning was to bring the ‘gonzo-style-journalism’ of the nineties New York punk magazine into the wonderfully unusual world of subterranean Britain, hence the its name, Bridge & Tunnel. It’s a slang term originating from 20th century Manhattan, used by inhabitants of the borough as a derogatory name for those living outside the island.
Those who were referred to as ‘Bridge and Tunnel’ were characterised by their tasteless and ostentatious appearances. Overtime the saying caught on, and by the 1990s its meaning had developed across the pond in London, becoming used as a descriptive name for all who could by considered culturally ignorant as a result of their ethnocentric world views and passé values.
The history behind the magazines name is therefore tied up with its central purpose, not only in putting a British twist on a New York format, but more importantly in ignoring what’s viewed as ‘current’, and instead shining a light on the people and subcultures of modern Britain that swim below the surface—out of sight from those both on the ‘bridges’, and in the ‘tunnels’. It also helped that the domain name was available.
I found the zine quite disarming. The headlines are tabloidy, the text intelligent. Is that contrast deliberate?
You’re on point about the magazine being built on contrasts, it was a feature central to its tone from the very first article written about the art of public toilet graffiti. Whilst many of the topics appear somewhat farcical (especially when going off the tabloid-esque headlines found on the contents page) there’s a juxtaposing thread of insightful and often intellectual charm brought out in many of the interviewees, even those speaking on something as absurd as getting high off your own excrement.
That being said, whilst I’m flattered by your comment on the text being ‘intelligent’, I’d also point out that not all the articles are, some even far from it—possibly even unintelligent. That’s not to suggest they do a disservice to the tone of the magazine, instead they allow this ‘contrast’ between topic and tone to go both ways—the more serious topics are met with off-beat and satirical digressions whilst the seemingly unserious topics are given a sense of perceptiveness not dissimilar to a newspaper article.
I wish I could articulate a greater reason for this style other than it being something that I find a lot of humour in. I suppose it goes back to the purpose of issue one being an ode to gonzo-journalism. The style itself was founded by Hunter Thompson who sought to contrast the format of the news article with sarcasm, exaggeration and interjecting comments of his own personal experiences. He even went as far to write entire books out, like ‘The Great Gatsby,’ to learn how to use a prosaic rhythm in his writing, completely unheard of in journalism at the time. The fact you’ve picked up on this resemblance between issue one of Bridge & Tunnel and the founding style of gonzo-journalism (albeit perhaps unknowingly) makes me very happy to see the project fulfil its aim.
Please show us one spread that sums up how the magazine works, and gives a sense of what the reader can expect from the mag
The first page that springs to mind is titled ‘I want to live in Camden, but even more than that, I want to not want to live in Camden.’ The article is penned by Camden resident Lev who dissects and articulates his love-hate relationship with the weirdest borough in London. Not only is it one of my favourite spreads due to its ridiculous humour, but also because of how it reflects that contrasting sense of mild poetic beauty reminiscent of the magazines early influences.
What has the magazine taught you that may be helpful to anyone else planning to launch one?
When I had first posted about the magazine, an older man asked me on the train why I was smiling at my phone. I responded with ‘funny AI video of a chiuwaua singing Ed Sheeran songs’ because at the time I was too shy to say I’d just published my first magazine. ‘I mean what if he asked to see it and thought it was stupid?’ I thought.
Looking back on it, I now realise that it was this very same attitude that had prevented me from completing the magazine for so many months before. After all, unlike other art forms, print media requires you to be committed not just creatively but also financially - that’s a surprisingly big ask for people who’ve never launched a magazine before. I suppose my advice is therefore not to be afraid of being confident with your project. It’s cliche but true, and actually sort of necessary if you want to see your magazine become more than a photoshop file lost on your computer.
What are you most looking forward to this coming week?
I wish I could be more precise than ‘finding further content for issue two of Bridge & Tunnel,’ but I honestly have know idea what’s headed my way down in South East Asia.
Maybe I’ll get off this coach and stumble upon a gold mine of strange people to feature in the magazine? Perhaps I’ll get scared and return to England with no more than a regrettable tattoo to one day show my future grandkids? All I know is that right now I look forward to getting myself off this coach as quickly as fucking possible.
Editor Joe Godfroy
Designers Joe Godfroy & Toni Brook