January 14, 2009

"Rock 'n' roll can save the world"? "The chicks are great"? I sound like a dick!

Posted by Miss Jaime at Wednesday, January 14, 2009 4 comments
Hey, I'm not the smartest guy in the world, but I'm certainly not the dumbest. I mean, I've read books like "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" and "Love in the Time of Cholera", and I think I've understood them. They're about girls, right? Just kidding. But I have to say my all-time favorite book is Johnny Cash's autobiography "Cash" by Johnny Cash -- Rob Gordon. High Fidelity.


I can relate. I've got a stack of rock (auto) biographies on my bookshelf -- Caught In The Crossfire (Stevie Ray Vaughan), Hammer of the Gods (Led Zeppelin), Ain't No Sin To Be Glad You're Alive and Glory Days (Bruce Springsteen), Aerosmith's autobiography and my most recent addition, Slash's autobiography.



I'm a bigger Slash fan than I am a GnR fan so I was looking forward to reading this book.

The book was pretty much par for the course -- Slash does drugs! Slash drinks Jack! Slash shreds the merciless fuck out of his Gibsons! Slash finds creating the world's most memorable guitar riffs preposterously easy! Slash thinks Axl is a control-obsessed douche!

Typical rock star bullshit. You hear about it with pretty much every band (except for the memorable guitar riffs being preposterously easy thing. Only Slash could have given the world the opening to Sweet Child O' Mine).

It got me thinking, though.

I used to have a thing for musicians. I'm not some obsessive who collects every single last piece of merchandise and my adoration was nothing close to the extent of Pamela Des Barres, Cynthia Plaster Caster or hell, even Penny Lane, Sapphire and Polexia (I realize they're fictional but just go with me here) but I totally bought into the Golden God myth.



I could justify it all -- the self-involvement, self-indulgence and self-importance.

Of course they had huge egos! Wouldn't you if you could make a guitar sob, moan and scream like that? Of course they trashed hotel rooms! They're trapped there for endless hours -- I mean, who wouldn't go insane? Of course they slept with groupies....and you know, not all groupies are like, whores. Some are muses who inspire the music that could save the world.

Yeah. I sounded like a dick.

So, I got a little older and a little smarter and you know what I realized?

If you take a second and step back and you strip away this glitter-dusted, whiskey-hazed view of them well....these Gods of Rock, these mystic shamen whose fingers of fury burned up fretboards, whose voices screamed and howled with thunderous sound and fury, whose bombastic drumming echoed like the hyperkinetic heartbeat of the universe?

They're men.

Flesh, blood and bone.

And like all men, they're fallible.

And like some men, they're actually pretty big assholes.

At the height of his fame, Jimmy Page slept with 14-year-old Lori Maddox. Steven Tyler became so completely besotted with a 14-year-old groupie that he convinced the girl's parents to sign a form making him her legal guardian. Ted Nugent did the same thing with a 17-year-old Hawaiian girl when he was 30 (note to Sean Hannity -- You might want to remember that when you take a break from fellating the guy for his right-wing viewpoints and sidebar? If The Nuge is all about the troops and pro-military, why didn't he enlist and serve his country during the Vietnam war? Something to think about).

The night before his wedding, Slash cheated on his fiance. Eric Clapton not only stole his best friend's wife but shagged her sister as well. Vince Neil drove drunk and killed one of his friends (and in a total fuckhole move, allowed the release of Music To Crash Your Car To -- a compilation of Crue songs. Seriously, Vince? Seriously?).

These are the guys I defended to the ends of the earth? Child molesters (a while back, Gary Glitter got in trouble for sleeping with underage girls. Instead of having the incident overlooked as part of the rock 'n roll lifestyle, he was classified formally - and rightfully so - as a sex offender. I'm not defending Glitter or his abominable actions. I'm just asking for accountability across the board. If Glitter's a sex offender, so are Ol' Pagey and the Demon of Screamin'), drunk drivers, adultering assholes who can't keep their pecker in their pants.

Your average, run-of-the-mill douchebags who you wouldn't want to be around if they weren't so musically gifted.

I'm not asking for perfection nor am I asking sinners to be saints. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm older, a little smarter and a little more experienced and while I'm still in love with the music, I've fallen out of love with the men who make it.

I'll save my hero worship for those who really deserve it.

January 1, 2009

It's hard to rely on my good intentions when my head's full of things that I can't mention

Posted by Miss Jaime at Thursday, January 01, 2009 2 comments
In 2009, I want to:

Write more.
Be a better writer.
Read more -- become BFF with used bookstores and the public library.
Send Thank You cards.
Take more pictures.
Add to my Flickr Favorites.
Eat healthier -- Adios crap. Hello fruit!
Eat better -- Hello cheese! Marhaba, Lebanese food!
Spend regular quality time at the gym.
See the family in Florida.
See the Smithsonian in D.C.
Purchase cute and sassy costume jewelry and band tees.
Pick up the guitar again.



Especially if it's this one.
Floss regularly.
Make more mix CDs filled with amazing new tracks and classics I can't ever forget.
Remember to remember.

Here's to hoping you have a fabulous 2009 and have as much fun as I appear to be having on New Year's Eve:

 

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