Life - Keith Richards
Keith Richards claims to have been awake for more hours than any man but he has also probably been asleep while standing up more than any other man too. Through 550 large-type pages Keef stumbles his way around drug busts and overdosing friends to set the record straight about all the shenanigans he has been accredited with – there was no blood transfusion, he wasn’t concussed by a coconut and he has yet to snort the ashes of any of his family members. After shelling out nearly seven and a half million dollars for half the Glimmer Twins’ spotty memories it is understandable that Little, Brown and Co. may want a book they can sell to Costco by the pallet. Thus albums like Between the Buttons and Their Satanic Majesties Request are almost entirely ignored in exchange for extensive discussions of the potency of Merck cocaine and Mick Jagger’s diva needs while people like Brian Jones seem only slightly more significant than Gene Pitney to the history of the Rolling Stones. Nonetheless the book is charming. He survived, stitched together with bandanas and skull rings, and has the stories to prove it. For those interested in entertaining tales of excess and jokes about Mick’s dick should look no further. For those interested in, say, the music the man created, it might be better to check out Victor Bockris’ biography, an equally substantial door-stopper that addresses the music that afforded Keith the ability to own a speed-boat named Mandrax.
LA Record Issue 103
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