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DIONYSIAN_SOAP
December 29, 2005
I remember once picking up some
rock n' roll book on display at
City Lights, I flipped through
it at random, and read a short
paragraph about Angela Bowie
walking in on David Bowie and
Mick Jagger in bed together, and
then casually offering to get
them something to drink.
I laughed, sneered at this lowbrow
rock "biography" crap, and put the
book back on the shelves -- and
walked away from it with this
(possibly apocryphal) story wedged
in my brain forever.
Thinking about this later, I
decided that my original sneer
was a misplaced snobbery...
This stuff clearly *matters* to
me, why pretend otherwise?
A character like Bowie
transcends mere celebrity
and becomes something like
a mythological figure.
Refusing to read from the Books
of Bowie just because their
veracity is uncertain is clearly
besides the point.
And refusing to read rock literature
because I'm supposed to be above that
stuff, that's pretty crazy:
(a) I'm not above listening
to the music.
(b) I'm supposed to be above
being above things.
So I resoved some day to
read some schlock rock
biography trash, and glean
what I could from it.
I didn't get very far... I read a book
about David Bowie, "Loving the Alien"
and found it to be only of middling
interest (it degenerates into reviewing
his sales figures... "Can he get
another hit!? Oh my.")
I bought a few Patti Smith bios (still
largely un-read); a few Velvet Underground BANG
books, and then let the project drop
for a while... CAMDEN_TOWN
I didn't even snag Angela
Bowie's tell-all book when
I saw it (I couldn't tell
you why not).
But more recently, I've really
found the mother-lode:
PLEASE_KILL_ME
Are celebrity anecdotes too trashy
for you to bother with?
Myself, I think there's something
inherently amusing about the
thought of Phil Spector asking
Arturo Vega if he's a Nazi.
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