Hi, my name is madkevin, and I have a confession: I am addicted to books about music. In fact, I seem to have lost the ability to read anything else. I am specifically addicted to the musician and band biography, the dirty tell-alls and oral histories of crazy people making crazy music. Some recent great ones I've read: See a Little Light: The Trail of Rage and Melody. Outstanding autobiography from the seminal Bob Mould, the driving force behind Husker Du, Sugar and his own solo career. Mould had a reputation for being private in the hardcore days (although his homosexuality was probably the worst-kept secret in the American underground), so to see him finally open up about everything is pretty amazing. He doesn't pull any punches (spoiler: he really, really hates Greg Norton), and provides a lot of insight into his own process as a musician. Motley Crue: The Dirt - Confessions of the World's Most Notorious Rock Band. I used to think Nabakov's Lolita had the best opening paragraph of any book ever written. That was before I read Dirt, which is CLEARLY THE WINNER: Spray Paint the Walls: The Story of Black Flag. Title's kind of a misnomer, because this is way more than just an overview of Black Flag - it's really the oral history of the entire California hardcore movement, with Black Flag and SST Records at the centre. Phenomenally detailed account of that entire era, even without the participation of Henry Rollins and Greg Ginn. If you thought Black Flag went downhill after Keith Morris left, this is the book for you. Anybody got any other recommendations?
Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk was full of interesting anecdotes, especially about less-famous bands like the Dead Boys. It strongly affirmed for me that many of my favorite musicians were horrible people whom I'd never want to meet. Clinton Heylin's oral histories are similarly full of story, but they have a deep flaw: Heylin cares as much or more about punk clothing than he does about music. In From the Velvets to the Voidoids he compiles quite a case for Richard Hell being the true fountainhead of punk, but it amounts to his having been the first to wear safety pins and ripped shirts. Babylon's Burning was worth it only for the chapters about Australia. I find the usual canon of rock writers to be annoying and celeb-obsessed. The same old cast of Rolling Stone hagiographers have been praising the dotage of Lou Reed, Bob Dylan, any Stone, and any Beatle since 1981 or so. I like Lester Bangs when he's praising "Wild Thing," but not when he's competing with Lou Reed to see who knows more about prescription narcotics.
I've only read a few, all essentially profiles of bands I really like, but I did rather enjoy Jim Derogatis' book about The Flaming Lips, Staring at Sound.
Holy shit, dudes. I have an important question for you: Can you read? If the answer is yes, then you should read this: Peter Criss: From Makeup To Breakup. Goddamn, that is one hell of a book. I am very, very far away from being a Kiss fan, but I don't hate those guys half as much as Peter Criss does. In an autobio that, in true Simpsons fashion, is self-serving with many glaring omissions, Criss dishes dirt on everybody in his life on every page while seemingly never taking any blame or responsibility on himself. It is pure, 100% narcissism, and as such might be the best book I've read in years. Stories of insane abuse towards groupies (upon finding out that one of his favourite call-girls jumped off the roof of a Vegas hotel, he off-handedly notes that if he was her, he would have killed himself too), drug-fueled allegations that Ace Frehley once maybe gave him a blowjob (hey, man, it was an orgy, it's hard to keep track), openly admits that everything on Alive except his drums and Stanley's hilarious between-song patter was overdubbed by studio musicians, intense painful details on what a pig Gene Simmons is (including one particular story so horrifying that I will not repeat it here), and all through it a complete lack of personal growth or understanding at all. Guys, it's so great.
