Rock’n’roll memoirs are chock full of casual sex, casual drug use, and casualties. Bad romance, bad luck and bad decisions — both personal and professional — are also standard fare of the genre. Blow jobs, blood and assorted bodily fluids occasionally dot the confessional landscape; think Nikki Sixx’s The Heroin Diaries, Motley Crue’s The Dirt, or Marilyn Manson’s The Long Road Out Of Hell. Anything missing? The female musician’s perspective on all of the above, perhaps?
Viv Albertine’s wonderfully titled, Clothes, Clothes, Clothes. Music, Music, Music. Boys, Boys, Boys is a breath of fresh air. Well...actually, that’s not quite right. The memoir from the guitarist of all-girl punk band, The Slits, is one of the most uncomfortable books I’ve read in some time. It’s also one of the best. That should not surprise fans of the band; they are long recognized as major influences of the punk DIY and, later, the Riot Grrl movement. Incidentally, the title comes from something her mum used to yell at her as a teenager obsessed with those things, and Viv remains both fashion-conscious and an old-fashioned romantic throughout the book. Her recollections of her outfits and shoes at key moments is charming.
Punk is often assumed as a revolution in music and, while that’s certainly true, it shortchanges the movement. The real revolution of punk was the manifest change in thinking, in self-expression, and in self-destiny. It resonates today as generations of X’ers, Y’ers and Millenials adopt a new DIY approach to life, shunning traditional and corporate jobs, unaware of the debt their lifestlyle choices owe to the tectonic shift in thinking that the punk movement espoused.
Albertine is Exhibit A of that ethos. She started a band — with pre-Sex Pistols’ Sid Vicious, of all people — while simultaneously learning guitar from the likes of boyfriend Mick Jones of The Clash and Keith Levene, also from an early incarnation of The Clash and, later, Public Image Limited. After getting sacked from her own band by Vicious (she was let in on the firing by Johnny Thunders, who fixed her up with her first and only shot of smack to relieve her of her disappointment), she joined The Slits, replacing their original guitarist. She would assume much of the discipline of booking rehearsals, gigs, management and songwriting. A couple of records later, (including The Slits’ landmark debut Cut) she was out on her ass again.
Albertine’s story is marked by disappointments and tragedies, such as an early abortion, a bout with cancer and the resulting infertility, and a brief exile from the music biz, all told in excruciating detail, bluntness and honesty. She is, at times, weary, resigned, and full of self-doubt, but always defiant and determined. And that’s the best part of the book. Albertine never gives up, never gives in, constantly re-inventing herself artistically while remaining true to who she is personally. Her book chronicles this very personal journey, becoming a wife, a mother, a filmmaker, an actress, a divorcee and, eventually, a musician again. And along the way, she turned into a fascinating guitar player. If that’s not punk rock, I don’t know what is.
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