By Lester Bangs
Earlier than his premature dying in 1982, Lester Bangs used to be inarguably the main influential critic of rock and roll. Writing in hyper-intelligent Benzedrine prose that calls to brain Jack Kerouac and Hunter S. Thompson, he eschewed all traditional considering as he mentioned every thing from Black Sabbath being the 1st really Catholic band to Anne Murray’s smoldering sexuality. In Mainlines, Blood Feasts, undesirable Taste fellow rock critic John Morthland has compiled a significant other quantity to Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung, the 1st, now vintage choice of Bangs’s paintings. listed here are excerpts from an autobiographical piece Bangs wrote as undefined, shuttle essays, and, after all, the tune items, essays, and feedback masking every little thing from titans like Miles Davis, Lou Reed, and the Rolling Stones to esoteric musicians like Brian Eno and Captain Beefheart. Singularly interesting, this e-book is an absolute needs to for someone drawn to the heritage of rock.
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Additional info for Main Lines, Blood Feasts, and Bad Taste: A Lester Bangs Reader
Theron Raines of Raines and Raines was Lester's agent when he was alive, and has continued in the same capacity for the estate. Edward Kastenmeier of Random House was the first editor to see the original proposal for this book, and jumped on it right away. In as few instances as possible, where there were references I felt some readers might not understand because Lester's work was so of the moment, I have added explanatory footnotes. But because I believe that even with all the time that has elapsed Lester's work still stands on its own, I usually haven’t tried to introduce individual pieces or put them in a context.
Man, I can’t stand it! I’d like to rip that fucker into a million pieces! ” I was in a very ironic/sarcastic mood that night, so I said: “Well, man, if he bothers you that much, rip the shit out of him! The poster belongs to me and I don’t mind. ” “Really? ” Everybody else made noises of disgust or told Luck to cool it. For a brief moment there was an odd suspenseful lull, and then he sprang at the poster and ripped it off the wall with a gurgling cry. Flopping about on the floor like a beached octopus, he tore it into a scattered litter of small pieces, snarling.
The result was that he got drunk free on the best stuff every weekend. Most of the others didn’t have it so cushy. ,satisfied I suppose that he’d beat all of ‘em that counted, he dropped his last bottle and slumped dead, his chin thudding on the top rim of the chair's back. His routine. I wonder if it ever got him laid. The only other thing they did at those hip-cool get-togethers was dance. Of course, there were always one or two profs and their wives, discoursing learnedly over precise mixed drinks, making the kids feel simultaneously nervous at the presence of a great mind that all the chicks thought was sexy because of his waxed mustache, and at the same time important because he’d come to their party instead of one with other learned faculty members where he would’ve been able to discourse even more learnedly.