Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Neon Angel: A Memoir of a Runaway by Cherie Currie

Neon Angel had been sitting in my Nook reader for a while, purchased not long after I watched The Runaways, which is based on lead vocalist Cherie Currie's autobiography. While Currie's book was first published over two decades ago, this revised edition - now featuring an introduction by co-Runaway Joan Jett and, by Currie's admission, more material that pushes the book beyond the "young adult" reading age - coincided with the movie's release. Just to warn you now, if you have only seen the movie without the benefit of reading Currie's account, the book makes the film look rather tame by comparison. Though the Runaways' short history covers the first half of Angel, it's a harrowing story of exploitation in the name of sex, drugs, and rock and roll - part cautionary tale and part soap opera, and completely gripping.

First things first, I'd like to point out some of the differences between Currie's account of Runaways history and the film. One cannot expect every film based on fact to be 100% accurate, and while The Runaways portrays a number of truths there is some obvious creative license taken. If you don't want to be spoiled, hop off the train now and check out the movie and/or book, then come on back. Otherwise, you will know that:
  • In the film, Cherie is shown acquiring her iconic black and white corset in Japan and debuting it in concert there. This costume had actually been her signature look for the "Cherry Bomb" number for much of her career with the band.
  • The film seems to imply The Runaways toured the US primarily as a supporting act. Currie reveals in her book that The Runaways actually headlined here, with acts like Cheap Trick and Tom Petty opening for them.
  • The film plays up a heavy lesbian flirtation between Cherie and Joan Jett, hinting at more. In her book, Currie talks about a bi-curious one-nighter, one that happened before she met Joan. If anything happened with any of the Runaways, it's not in the book.
So, what did the film realize with more accuracy? I'd say most of the movie where Cherie is the prominent character is taken directly from the book. Within the short span of film we see Cherie's obsession with David Bowie and her relish for the wild LA nightclub scene up to her "discovery" by Kim Fowley - pretty much true to Cherie's account. Viewing the movie, I noticed Lita Ford's role in the film consisted solely of playing the guitar and screeching/cussing her entire dialogue, and to read Neon Angel you would think that fairly accurate as well. As I understand it, despite what resolutions came about following lawsuits to retrieve the band members their due compensation, there is still no love lost between certain people.

If you are a Runaways fan, I imagine this book will make you rather angry, and definitely hesitant to allow your daughter to pursue a career in entertainment. That Currie ended up on stage, promoted by Fowley as rebellious jail-bait, happened through a combination of lax parental guidance and Fowley's showmanship. Currie paints a sinister and ironic portrait here: for all the hype touting The Runaways as rebels with a "fuck it all" attitude, any girl in the group who tested those wings in Fowley's presence found them quickly clipped, shredded and forced back down her throat. Given that these girls were well underage at the time - I had to keep telling myself Currie was fifteen when this all started - it's a wonder the guy didn't land in jail. He definitely couldn't pull this off today.

Currie's post-Runaways story comprises the rest of the book, and it spills forth in a stream of alcohol and cocaine, blown opportunities and familial discord. An entire chapter devoted to a graphic, chilling encounter with a crazed "fan" left me open-mouthed, then wondering if this material had been left out of the original book. Through the stories of abuse and blown opportunities (Currie's attempts to parlay her Runaways fame into a solo acting/singing career quickly fizzled mainly due to her inability to stay sober), Cherie emerges a survivor, and eventual victor over her demons.

That she can look back and stand sure-footed provides inspiration to anybody suffering a low point in life, though in reading the book I thought the ending came rushed. The positive aspects of her life - her son, her new career, and her friendship with her ex-husband - all come summarized toward the end. I get the impression Currie is too protective of what drives her now to share it. I, for one, am glad she has it.

Rating B+

Kathryn Lively is a mystery author whose titles include Rock Deadly and Rock Til You Drop.



Thursday, June 2, 2011

Starting Over: The Making of John Lennon and Yoko Ono's Double Fantasy by Ken Sharp

There is a scene in a made for TV movie about John Lennon where the former Beatle is listening to the radio while lounging near the beach. He pauses on hearing a curious harmony punctuated by a high-pitched ululation that sends him to the nearest phone to call his wife, Yoko. "They're doing your act," he enthuses with apparent belief that his beloved's avant-garde approach to music is finally gaining acceptance. On this revelation, the scene cuts to a studio somewhere in New York City, where the Lennons commence an historic return to public life through the production of new material that will eventually comprise Double Fantasy and Milk and Honey. To look at those brief moments in a film that otherwise presents a relationship faced with various challenges, one might guess John had been at his happiest and most enthusiastic in that time.

I wouldn't doubt it. When Lennon and Ono entered the Hit Factory with The B-52's hit "Rock Lobster" no doubt ringing in their memories, they sought to put their own mark on the new decade. Ken Sharp's Starting Over attempts to record every detail of the making of Lennon's new music, and relies upon the memories of everybody involved in the production - from Yoko to producer Jack Douglas, guest artists Bun E. Carlos and Rick Nielsen of Cheap Trick, and a host of studio musicians and personnel, engineers, and music critics. Lennon himself is represented through interviews granted to various sources before his death.

The structure of Starting Over offers the play-by-play through a series of direct narratives from all involved parties. If you have read Live From New York, a history of Saturday Night Live as told by cast and crew, you will be familiar with the format. Here, readers bounce around a series of "he saids" and "she saids" where everything from Lennon's day to day mood and work ethic to the food delivered for lunch (sushi mainly, until the band rebelled and began to sneak in hamburgers) is revealed. Largely visible, too, is the overall perception of Lennon being somewhat insecure in his work despite the absence of pressure from labels. Because Lennon was not under contract to make the record, he opted for strict secrecy (it almost worked) and seemed ready to destroy everything if it didn't turn out to his satisfaction. One can only wonder the fate of the music that comprised Milk and Honey had he not died - would he have approved of that release?

Despite entering the relaxed atmosphere of the Hit Factory, a cloud did loom overhead - namely the pressure to live up to the Lennon name and reputation, as well as execute an impressive leap from the shadow cast by former band mate Paul McCartney, whose own 1980 album had gone gold. Some may view Lennon's decision to eventually sign with fledging label Geffen Records as opposed to McCartney's label (which, among others, courted Lennon) as a final act of non-conformity.

Few stories in the book, told from different angles, contradict one another. Yet, when it happens it happens big. The process of arranging tunes in playing order, as recalled by Yoko, might have resulted in a disadvantageous placement of her songs if others had gotten their way.

What I found most fascinating about Starting Over is the latter half of the story, the critical and public reaction to the finished Double Fantasy. As I read, I queued up the album to familiarize myself again with the music that seemed to dominate much of 1981 by virtue of our global mourning. Tracking responses by the major critics of the day, Yoko's work is singled out as the more innovative contribution to the album - interesting to note given that the bulk of Starting Over covers Lennon's involvement in the production. Lennon's songs, which mainly reflect his familial contentment and optimism, are dissected with great care, while explanation of Yoko's inspiration to write is hardly examined. I can only guess this lack of balance is attributed to Sharp's intention to offer Starting Over as a Lennon tribute, with the assumption that Yoko's story will be told in due time. This is not to say, however, that Yoko is shut out completely. We are reminded throughout Starting Over that two artists appear on the cover, and the story of how David Geffen finally won the most anticipated album of the new decade solidifies Yoko's importance in the project.

For readers interested in Lennon's later history with a concentration on work rather than gossip, Starting Over is a nice "oral" history, but may come off as a bittersweet read given how the story ends. Thirty years after the events, the stories remain as fresh as the music.

Rating: A

Kathryn Lively is a mystery author whose titles include Rock Deadly and Rock Til You Drop.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

FM for Murder by Patricia Rockwell

Recently I went on a book-buying tear at Amazon to burn down some gift card credit. Part of my goal was to stock up on some less expensive titles - given the recent boom of 99 cent eBooks, I thought surely I'd find some titles relevant to this blog. FM for Murder, part of a series starring an acoustics expert, held an interesting premise, and a good price.

Bear in mind, this is the second book in a series, so if you are the anal retentive sort who must start with A before going to B you may wish to see what else Rockwell has to offer. This book, FWIW, is written in a manner that doesn't give away anything important from its predecessor. That's a good thing in terms of spoilers, and to give Rockwell credit I didn't feel lost due to any inside references.

Getting to the story: the Black Vulture is, rather was, a popular local DJ who held court during a late-night shift of alternative rock and songs for the goth/emo set. His on-air murder sets off a ripple of shock and concern among fans, but for college professor Pamela Barnes the event rekindles her sleuthing desires. Not that she takes charge immediately - local authorities call on her expertise in sound recordings and voice to assist with digging up clues, and we find out quickly that her family is none too pleased with this moonlighting.

Meanwhile, a subplot involving Daniel Bridgewater, heir to a carpet manufacturing company a few hours away, takes the reader slowly through a familial conflict veiled in secrets. Desperate to mend ties between his ailing father and prodigal brother, Daniel tracks down the elusive David to discover a reunion is inevitable, but not in the way he expects. To go further into detail would give away too much of the story, so I will just say that Rockwell brings together both story lines the way one would slowly pull on a zipper. The lives affected do not cross so much as meet together at the right time for a resolution.

I personally would not consider FM for Murder a mystery in the traditional sense. The book is presented more like a crime drama, where the pieces gradually come together. You may get a sense of where the story is going as you read - I got to a certain point and figured out much of the revelations before they happened. Still, it didn't diminish what I enjoyed of the book - mainly Pamela's sleuthing. A sub-plot involving a co-worker's pending marriage - while likely used to shape Pamela's workplace and expand on characterization - didn't catch my interest as much. I felt that space could have better served in Pamela's corner.

As a quick read for a good price, however, FM for Murder just may satisfy readers of suspense.

Rating: B-

Kathryn Lively is a mystery author whose titles include Rock Deadly and Rock Til You Drop.

Sunday, May 22, 2011

Good Rockin' Tonight by Colin Escott & Martin Hawkins

When I received the galley for the revised edition of Good Rockin' Tonight, my knowledge of Sun Records was minimal - I knew basically that it existed. I had known some of the legends of early rock and roll cut records with the label - Elvis, Jerry Lee, Roy - but I hadn't realized the richness of the label's history before now. While reading this book, what grabbed me the most was the sheer amount of minor record labels active in the 50's and 60's, and the preference of cutting singles as opposed to whole albums since one was likely to find more profit - a practice one sees now with iTunes, where one can buy individual songs.

I can remember, as a child, sifting through stacks of 45 RPM discs my parents had collected over the years. There may have been a Sun or two in the mix, but I recall quite a variety - Dot, Decca, Buddha, Stax...the music business doesn't appear that different from publishing, particularly in this time of transition. It is interesting to note how some labels operated to serve a specific market (in Sun's case, the South - perfecting what became known as the "Memphis Sound") and gain a following before broadening their reach. This makes sense when you think about it - popular music variety shows like American Bandstand and the Grand Ole Opry had roots in localized followings before expanding. Rockin' touches on the Sun Records connection to these national outlets, in particular with their more prominent artists.
When the original Sun studio opened, it had originally served as a place for musicians and organizations to make use of the equipment until it was realized that money could be made representing and distributing artists. Rockin' goes on to break down, chapter by chapter, the many relationships Sun and Phillips enjoyed with various artists and architects of R&B, rockabilly, and early rock and roll. The Sun histories of Elvis, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis, and Roy Orbison - some of them so brief - are recorded with academic detail and very little gossip. Though it's not revealed directly, as you run down the list of songs recorded and released by Sun you realize the butterfly effect Phillips had on rock and roll - one can argue that if not for the Sun discs making the rounds in the UK, where American artists of this period were quite popular, The Beatles may not have come into existence (indeed, check the Fabs' earlier albums for their covers of some of Perkins' Sun songs.).

Probably the juiciest tabloid-esque bits one can expect to find are Lewis's exploits, mainly because they resulted in nearly damaging his career while with Sun. Given the same amount of play here, though on the radio it was a different story, are the careers of second and third-tier artists like Charlie Rich, Malcolm Yelvington, Warren Smith, Billy Riley. You might not know the names, but perhaps if you had parents like mine who held a wealth of records you may recognize the music - a thorough appendix of Sun recordings at the end of the book provides the information you need to educate yourself.

A friend who has also read and enjoyed this book noted his amazement that Phillips not only had so much talent in his stable, but seemed to willingly let it go. The passages on Johnny Cash support this - one reads this entire book and wonders how a man of such innovation, who once had the organization so many others imitated, didn't seem perceptive enough to know he should hang on to the likes of Presley and Cash. Would Sun have survived the changing landscape of music in the 1960s if Phillips had been more aggressive in keeping certain artists? We can only guess at what might have been, but we do know the legacy left by one of the more influential independent labels in music history, and thanks to this book we know so much more.

Rating: A

(Book provided by publisher via NetGalley)

Kathryn Lively is a mystery author whose titles include Rock Deadly and Rock Til You Drop.