The Dark Stuff and Brando

Darn it. I can't find my Nick Kent. I feel so lost. I've looked everywhere in my studio space and he just won't surface...I thought he was sandwiched somewhere in with my Fear and Loathing, my disintegrating Nancy Drews and my Go Ask Alice.

Me: Alice, have you seen my Nick Kent?
Alice: What the fuck are you talking about, don't bother me, the rabbit is waiting.
Me: Nick Kent, my favourite rock journalist, you know, he published a collection of his greatest interviews in a book called "The Dark Stuff". He also has huge history with NME and Melody Maker.
Alice: Fuck the dark shit, look at all that bright light and the pretty colours...

Aw, Fuck you Alice, everyone now knows you are a fake. That's right. The famous 1971 drug "diary" was actually authored by a Mormon youth counselor. I guess we should be thankful that the Mormons contributed something besides the Osmonds to popular culture.

I found "The Dark Stuff" at a Virgin Megastore whilst day shopping in Milan. I was living and somewhat stranded in a fairly out of the way part of northern Italy at the time and books in English were hard to come by. So once acquired and devoured, I hung onto that book for dear life. He's been with me ever since.

Or so I thought. Time for a new copy. I believe it's recently been revised to include new interviews, one of which is with Eminem. Ah...makes me want my first edition all that much more.
The best part of the book is the lengthy Brian Wilson interview. In it Brian is enjoying a salad and smoking a cig at the same time. Nick relates how Wilson absent-mindedly kept ashing the cig in the salad while he ate it. No matter, it wasn't like he was ingesting anything else harmful at the time, was he?

Perhaps Wilson's most harmful plate of bullshit was that served by Dr. Eugene Landy, his psychologist and "spiritual guide". Scammer. Ripoff artist. Right up there with the Memphis Mafia for the crime of doing close to nothing in return for a hefty payday. Or the costume designer for The Breakfast Club. How frickin' hard could that have been? One movie, no costume changes (except for the small one when weirdo/basketcase gets a makeover)and the characters were all stereotypes, meaning not a lot of imagination and brainstorming was required to convey physical character traits that we are all too familiar with simply by living day to day. And Marlon Brando...just how much did he end up making for a 5 minute part in Superman? Just how do you think he bought a whole island?

No man is an island. But some can afford to buy one. Let's just hope the next one we hear about who does actually deserves it.



currently listening to: Can, Tago Mago (go Krautrock!)