Pura, purissima energia: sale da ogni pagina e se non fai attenzione ti ustiona le labbra. Davvero: io tra Beatles e Rolling Stones mi sono sempre schierata per i Beatles. Ma per Keith Richards ho sempre avuto una passione che oggi so spiegarmi molto meglio. Un vero pirata dei caraibi e di tutto l'universo mare....Continua
Keith recupera un briciolo di stima dal cestino delle cartacce dove l'ho sempre relegato. Con quella curiosa fissazione per il blues di Chicago, e la faccia da culo di Jagger hanno scalato l'Olimpo dei musicisti. Ma Jagger è diventato un fighetto davvero indigeribile mentre Richards dopo questa autobiografia mi pare un tipo accettabile, un onesto cazzone, consapevole di ciò che ha davvero saputo e non saputo fare con la chitarra in questi ultimi cinquanta anni.
Insopportabile per chi non sia stato un pò consumatore di qualche tipo di sostanza stupefacente, per chi lo sia stato in modo esagerato, per chi detesta gli sconvoltoni, o per chi trova repellente la sua faccia da tossico anziano.
Non so se leggerò mai questa autobiografia di Keith Richards. Non sono mai stata una fan dei Rolling Stones. Ma la foto della copertina è veramente un capolavoro e valeva la spesa.
Now, I know that the big rock stars of the sixties didn't always turn out to be the most likeable personalities in real life, but after attempting to read this ego-tripping white-washing of Keith Richards's he now strikes me as possibly the least likeable of the bunch.
While finding the book an enjoyable reading at first, what now echoes in my mind are mostly passages like the one where K.R. claims that he may have written Jimi Hendrix's 'Hey Joe' and that a mutual girlfriend of theirs snatched the song from K.R.'s apartment and brought it to Hendrix. Richards claims that this is a story that he heard and that, hey, it may be true, even if he doesn't remember it, because there are so many things from those days that he doesn't remember. This he claims in a book which is exactly about those times and is so rich with details that it actually ends up becoming off-putting - in the sense that you start wondering just how much of the material is coming from K.R. himself as opposed to being filled in by the ghost writer(s - hardly a one man's job).
Where the book really lost me was where Keith covers the death of Brian Jones. The contempt that Richards still holds for Jones 40 years after his untimely death is one of those moments amidst the self-aggrandizement where the reader gets a glimpse of K.R.'s true self. Anyway, Brian Jones was apparently a pathetic scumbag, whose only real success in life was to have helped launch a band with the genius of Richards and Jagger. Keith Richards describes how he saved Anita Pallenberg from the evil Brian Jones, and after that moment in the book Jones dissolves from the narrative - only to be mentioned again when Richards learns of his death, with a passing mentioning that they had just kicked him out of the band two weeks earlier. Then after at first going through his doubts that the builder Frank Thorogood actually killed Brian Jones, Keith Richards goes on to say that maybe he did, after being provoked by obnoxious Brian Jones, but even in that case it was irrelevant anyway, as scumbag Brian didn't have any life left in him anyway.
I stopped reading the book on page 310, not even bothering to finish the chapter I was at, as K.R. had lost all credibility to me. This all-around nice guy image that he (and his over-wroked ghost writer) tries to give of himself - not buying it!...Continua