The "Dreaded" Rock Biography

There have been at least a million rock artist biographies, not quite as many self-penned but that seems to have been the most current trend: Keef, Mick, Pete, Neil Young, Clapton, Dylan, Heart, Gregg Allman just to name a few. My friend Jeff even read Randy Bachman’s (yes THAT Randy Bachman from BTO & Guess Who fame) and said he quite enjoyed it. My experiences with biogs (especially the self-penned ones) fall into the In the Be-Careful-What-You-Wish-For category; I’d love to know what is on the minds’ of these artists but sometimes find extreme disappointment when what is really on their mind is touting themselves.

I have always been fascinated with deciphering lyrics, although I really suck at it for the most part. There are quite a lengthy list of songs that I didn’t really like until I either:

1. deciphered the lyrics myself (Sigmund Freud’s Impersonation of Albert Einstein in America – Randy Newman)
2. heard the artist via interview or articles in Rolling Stone (Waterloo Sunset – The Kinks, The Royal Scam – Steely Dan) or on the internet
3. found in liner notes or in a biography (Wild Horses – The Rolling Stones).

I am not sure why this affects me. My take on the songs should be just that – MY take on the song – not some superimposed image of someone else – even the author. Back in the day I guess I looked at it all as a kind of mathematical equation to solve – without infusing personal subjectivity. But I ain’t 17 anymore. Back then I had the time to devote to such ventures. Today, not so much. Sadly, back then when I would have had the time to consume all these biographies, the artists themselves either hadn’t accumulated enough ribald anecdotes or were too drug or alcohol induced to write them down.

There were a couple of good tomes released, but mostly they were not penned by the artist and fell into either a dry chronology of the artist, glorified gossip (No One Here Gets Out Alive) or star worship (Dave Marsh’s Springsteen bio Glory Days). More recently, there have been a spate of releases. I have read 3 in the past several months: Rock & Roll Doctor – Lowell George by Mark Brend; Gregg Allman’s My Cross to Bear & Pete Townshend’s Who I Am.

First off – Rock & Roll Doctor. I have to thank my buddy Brad for letting me borrow his copy of the Lowell George book. I have long been a Feats’ fan and would love to pick up any nuggets about one of my favorite musicians, taken from us far too soon. Brend’s book is fairly dry. It does pass on some nice little nuggets: Did you know Lowell George was a member of The Standells? Sadly he was not an original member, nor did he participate in the recording of their classic Dirty Water, but played with the touring band for a year or so. Also, I didn’t know that Lowell used a socket wrench as his slide device which helped account for his unique sound. Aside from that, he went into great detail on each album and the songs, but not really telling me much more than what I already knew as a fan.     

Being a HUGE Who fan and a big fan of Pete’s lyrics in general, I couldn’t wait to read his autobiography Who I Am. I was amazed at his narcissism. I can only imagine what it must be like to be a rock legend; a true mover and shaker of this music we all love so much. I don’t want to sit here and simply bad mouth a man who’s work I love, admire and couldn’t fathom my life without. But c’mon Pete, when you describe anything – a woman, a fellow artist, friend or compatriot as “brilliant” or “life-changing” or some other superlative - it begins to diminished the value of the person you are describing. EVERYONE can’t, by definition, be the BEST. Also, for every effort at humility Pete attempts, and to his credit he does try, his failings are mostly rationalized away as someone else’s fault or bad timing or circumstance. For someone who has the gift with words that he clearly does, it would have been more enjoyable to me if you would have given more insight into your writing than into who you bedded down and why; instead of simply touting his daughters’ successful careers, explain how it felt to be their father; instead of mentioning repeatedly how much you loved The Ox explain why instead of who he was screwing while you were trying to perfect your art.

As excited as I was about Townshend’s book, I was totally dubious of Allman’s My Cross to Bear. I have my friend Neal to thank for changing my mind. We had spoken about it on a phone call one day. He asked if I had read it yet. I replied that I had not. He said I would like it. I thought of Gregg in a different light before reading the book – talented singer but more trouble than he was worth. Fast forward a couple of weeks when I received a copy of the book Neal bought for me delivered in the mail. Imagine how surprised I was when I couldn‘t put the book down. Granted, where it would take Pete a page to poetically describe a particular memory in the manner of Shelley or Keats, Gregg spoke like a normal guy in a normal voice and describe his memory in a paragraph or less. No one will confuse his writing style with Norman Mailer. But it suits him perfectly; a blue-collar guy who wrote in a blue-collar style.

He spoke with love and (what I perceived to be anyway) real affection for the people in his life. He explained why. With the notable exception of Dickey Betts, he didn’t blame anyone for any of his hardships – other than himself. He spoke glowingly as he recalled of the early days of the Allmans and how he began to allow himself to use alcohol and narcotics as a crutch. He spoke of some of the women he had been with but mostly without overplaying his hand with graphic conquest stories. I am surprised how fondly he spoke of Cher, for instance. I learned a lot about songs that I hadn’t had much call to like for any reason other than the driving rhythms or stellar playing of the the ABB. Now I am listening to some of these chestnuts with new ears, a real gift these days.

I suppose I could go on but, let’s face it, this isn’t the Sunday Times’ Book Review here. My favorites bios are still: Frank Zappa’s autobiography The Real Frank Zappa Book; Shakey – Neil Young’s bio by Jimmy McDonough & Joe Jackson’s self-penned - A Cure For Gravity: A Musical Pilgrimage. If you find any of these they will not disappoint. Gregg's would be in my Top 5, with Ray Davies' X-Ray. I can even let you borrow them.