It was a gas...
I wish that I had thought to take notes last night at the Mick Rock book signing that I dragged Melissa to. His quotes were priceless and I am going to be unable to do them justice here. Let’s just say that Mick Rock was exactly what I wanted him to be. He looked like the actor who played Martin Hannett in 24 Hour Party People (before he got fat and crazy) and was craggy in that terribly British old rock n’ roll guy kind of way. He flirted with all of the women in the audience and said that he would answer questions about everything but his sex life. Then, when people would actually ask him questions, he would launch into long “answers” that were really just tangential stories about his life and music and photography.
Now, for those of you who don’t know who Mick Rock is (best question NOT asked by Melissa all night, “What’s your real name?”) he is the famous rock shutterbug (heh-that is the sort of word that magazines use when copy editors don’t want to repeat the word “photographer”) who was Bowie’s official photographer during the Ziggy Stardust era and took the photos on the cover of “Raw Power” and “Transformer” and “Queen II.” You know, like seminal fucking rock images! He was at the Chelsea Barnes and Noble promoting his new book of photos of Debbie Harry and Blondie. (For which he told the audience that Debbie is getting royalties. I got the sneaking suspicion that he was kind of in love with her- but fuck it!- she’s DEBBIE HARRY, who wouldn’t be?. When asked if the rest of the band were getting royalties too, since they feature in so many of the pics, Mick said something like, “No, this was just between me and Miss Debbie and they should be glad to even be included. They should just be thankful that they had some nice pictures taken of them!”)
I almost pissed myself right at the start when the shy, rock-nerd Barnes and Noble employee had to come out and read the introduction that Mick had obviously written for himself that said that he enjoys “kundilini yoga and cats!!!” Mick then got “onstage”- looking decidedly unyoga-like, more like someone who drinks whiskey for breakfast than someone who loves kitty cats- and said that though he is known/pigeonholed for his rock photography, he has lots of “erotic images” and loves shooting cats and one day hopes to do a “pussy” book.
He told awesome gossipy rock stories like about how Marc Bolan was such a little bitch (his words, not mine) that he wouldn’t let Mick shoot him because he was shooting Bowie and the glam boys were in a tiff or how Debbie Harry had, by the time of Blondie’s heyday, already been a smack addict and gotten off of the junk- which was interesting because every book on the CBGBs scene paints her as detached from all of the debauchery. (I guess that was because she’d already been there, done that! After all, she was like 32 and everyone else was a crazy drug addled 20 year-old!) And though I hate asking questions in public (despite my chosen profession!), I sucked up my embarrassment and asked Mick if there were any photographic subjects that got away- like people he wished he could have shot. He had the BEST answer! He said that he was all set to shoot Elvis Presley and Big E died two days before the concert he was scheduled to shoot.
For an older guy with a teenage daughter, he is still totally hip. He zips around the world from NY to Tokyo to London shooting bands and putting together books with people like Lou Reed (omigod, can you imagine this dude’s rolodex…. Lou, Iggy, Bowie, Debbie. I’d die if I met just one of those people in person!). And he still has a really great eye and ear for exciting talent. Or maybe I just say that because, when asked what bands he’d like to shoot now, he said the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (who he has shot- he thinks Karen is unassumingly sexy) and the Killers (HE got tickets to Monday night’s show and thought it was great- but hey, Brandon is on the cover of the new NME and those Brits always fall in line with whatever the Rock Bible tells them is cool!)!!
I wished I had the money to buy his Blondie book so I could get him to sign it. I think I secretly just wanted some one-on-one face time with him. He is just so weird and talented and sexy (in that older, British, dirty-old-man way). I wish that I knew more about photography so I could explain why I thought his photographs were great. It’s not just because they are of famous people that I admire or think are cool. He generally photographs them in highly theatrical settings. While I loved looking at the shots of Debbie and Chris at home being normal, non-rock star people, his best shots really emphasize the myth of the rock star: it’s Debbie as Marilyn with big blond hair and big toothy smile and a pink backdrop, it’s Lou Reed shot in black and white looking dour in glam makeup on the cover of Transformer, it’s Freddy Mercury shot so that his head is ethereal and disembodied against a black background…. I like that his photos don’t try to normalize rockers, but serve to try and mythologize them. There is something BIG about them and what he’s trying to do and that is what I want from my art. I am over “small” art. I want brash, cartoonish, outlandish images.
It’s the Pearl Jam-Oasis conundrum. I mean any geeky rock fan wants their favorite band to be serious about their music and eschew selling out. Pearl Jam represented that model of rock star. But there is nothing fun or remotely rock and roll about a band who is so serious that they shun the limelight and don’t play live out of some (legitimate) beef with Ticketmaster. You know what, I’d want Pearl Jam to be my lawyers or my accountant. They seem trustworthy and earnest. But that is not what I’m looking for in my rock stars. For that I want Oasis. I want you to love being in the public eye and do things (snort coke off of strippers’ asses, impregnate a pop star while you are married to a famous actress, have onstage fights with your brother/bandmate, be so drunk and British that your television interviews are unintelligible) that I could never do because I’m not wealthy, famous or dumb enough. Now I realize the Pearl Jam/Oasis conundrum is a hard one to stomach because, well, Pearl Jam are a third rate Nirvana and Oasis (though they have like 2 good songs) are a second rate Blur, but we are talking rock star behavior, not album content. I just think that rock and roll got too polite somewhere along the way. Maybe it was when it got its own, legitimate corporate culture. Maybe it was when the first generation weaned on rock grew up and became parents and respectable members of society. I don’t know. But that is fucking boring. I want bands that might not be safe to play on TV because you never know what they’ll say. I want bands whose songs can’t be played on the radio because you’d have to bleep out every other word. I want bands that don’t give a fuck about playing the Superbowl Halftime show or selling you their ringtone for your phone. I want bands that are ugly. I want bands that are beautiful. I just want big, big personalities. And maybe some silly costumes or set pieces. I just want some big, dumb rock n’ roll. Oasis-style. Mick Rock style. Reality is very disheartening. I can see it on the news everyday. I think I need more myths in my life.
Now, for those of you who don’t know who Mick Rock is (best question NOT asked by Melissa all night, “What’s your real name?”) he is the famous rock shutterbug (heh-that is the sort of word that magazines use when copy editors don’t want to repeat the word “photographer”) who was Bowie’s official photographer during the Ziggy Stardust era and took the photos on the cover of “Raw Power” and “Transformer” and “Queen II.” You know, like seminal fucking rock images! He was at the Chelsea Barnes and Noble promoting his new book of photos of Debbie Harry and Blondie. (For which he told the audience that Debbie is getting royalties. I got the sneaking suspicion that he was kind of in love with her- but fuck it!- she’s DEBBIE HARRY, who wouldn’t be?. When asked if the rest of the band were getting royalties too, since they feature in so many of the pics, Mick said something like, “No, this was just between me and Miss Debbie and they should be glad to even be included. They should just be thankful that they had some nice pictures taken of them!”)
I almost pissed myself right at the start when the shy, rock-nerd Barnes and Noble employee had to come out and read the introduction that Mick had obviously written for himself that said that he enjoys “kundilini yoga and cats!!!” Mick then got “onstage”- looking decidedly unyoga-like, more like someone who drinks whiskey for breakfast than someone who loves kitty cats- and said that though he is known/pigeonholed for his rock photography, he has lots of “erotic images” and loves shooting cats and one day hopes to do a “pussy” book.
He told awesome gossipy rock stories like about how Marc Bolan was such a little bitch (his words, not mine) that he wouldn’t let Mick shoot him because he was shooting Bowie and the glam boys were in a tiff or how Debbie Harry had, by the time of Blondie’s heyday, already been a smack addict and gotten off of the junk- which was interesting because every book on the CBGBs scene paints her as detached from all of the debauchery. (I guess that was because she’d already been there, done that! After all, she was like 32 and everyone else was a crazy drug addled 20 year-old!) And though I hate asking questions in public (despite my chosen profession!), I sucked up my embarrassment and asked Mick if there were any photographic subjects that got away- like people he wished he could have shot. He had the BEST answer! He said that he was all set to shoot Elvis Presley and Big E died two days before the concert he was scheduled to shoot.
For an older guy with a teenage daughter, he is still totally hip. He zips around the world from NY to Tokyo to London shooting bands and putting together books with people like Lou Reed (omigod, can you imagine this dude’s rolodex…. Lou, Iggy, Bowie, Debbie. I’d die if I met just one of those people in person!). And he still has a really great eye and ear for exciting talent. Or maybe I just say that because, when asked what bands he’d like to shoot now, he said the Yeah Yeah Yeahs (who he has shot- he thinks Karen is unassumingly sexy) and the Killers (HE got tickets to Monday night’s show and thought it was great- but hey, Brandon is on the cover of the new NME and those Brits always fall in line with whatever the Rock Bible tells them is cool!)!!
I wished I had the money to buy his Blondie book so I could get him to sign it. I think I secretly just wanted some one-on-one face time with him. He is just so weird and talented and sexy (in that older, British, dirty-old-man way). I wish that I knew more about photography so I could explain why I thought his photographs were great. It’s not just because they are of famous people that I admire or think are cool. He generally photographs them in highly theatrical settings. While I loved looking at the shots of Debbie and Chris at home being normal, non-rock star people, his best shots really emphasize the myth of the rock star: it’s Debbie as Marilyn with big blond hair and big toothy smile and a pink backdrop, it’s Lou Reed shot in black and white looking dour in glam makeup on the cover of Transformer, it’s Freddy Mercury shot so that his head is ethereal and disembodied against a black background…. I like that his photos don’t try to normalize rockers, but serve to try and mythologize them. There is something BIG about them and what he’s trying to do and that is what I want from my art. I am over “small” art. I want brash, cartoonish, outlandish images.
It’s the Pearl Jam-Oasis conundrum. I mean any geeky rock fan wants their favorite band to be serious about their music and eschew selling out. Pearl Jam represented that model of rock star. But there is nothing fun or remotely rock and roll about a band who is so serious that they shun the limelight and don’t play live out of some (legitimate) beef with Ticketmaster. You know what, I’d want Pearl Jam to be my lawyers or my accountant. They seem trustworthy and earnest. But that is not what I’m looking for in my rock stars. For that I want Oasis. I want you to love being in the public eye and do things (snort coke off of strippers’ asses, impregnate a pop star while you are married to a famous actress, have onstage fights with your brother/bandmate, be so drunk and British that your television interviews are unintelligible) that I could never do because I’m not wealthy, famous or dumb enough. Now I realize the Pearl Jam/Oasis conundrum is a hard one to stomach because, well, Pearl Jam are a third rate Nirvana and Oasis (though they have like 2 good songs) are a second rate Blur, but we are talking rock star behavior, not album content. I just think that rock and roll got too polite somewhere along the way. Maybe it was when it got its own, legitimate corporate culture. Maybe it was when the first generation weaned on rock grew up and became parents and respectable members of society. I don’t know. But that is fucking boring. I want bands that might not be safe to play on TV because you never know what they’ll say. I want bands whose songs can’t be played on the radio because you’d have to bleep out every other word. I want bands that don’t give a fuck about playing the Superbowl Halftime show or selling you their ringtone for your phone. I want bands that are ugly. I want bands that are beautiful. I just want big, big personalities. And maybe some silly costumes or set pieces. I just want some big, dumb rock n’ roll. Oasis-style. Mick Rock style. Reality is very disheartening. I can see it on the news everyday. I think I need more myths in my life.
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