In my late teens, punk rock changed my whole worldview. You didn't have to listen to the same music everybody else did. You didn't have to dress the way everyone else did. I'm sure I speak for many when I say it put me on a path to self-realization. It wasn't a bad thing, and sometimes it was a good thing to not fit in. Besides me, it turned music upside down. Music had become lethargic in the mid-1970's, and punk rock turned it upside down.
Jim Carroll was a footnote, but a big one at that. His song "People Who Died" was a long litany to his friends who had passed away in New York's seamy underside. Written over a raw, chug-a-lug of guitar, bass, and drums, Carroll read off his long list of characters without seeming emotion, saving his big salute for the last one. It was almost like a dark and fatalistic response to "Walk on the Wild Side"
Carroll's "Basketball Diaries" had a similar effect on the literary world. Based on journals he wrote as a thirteen year old, he detailed a double life as a prep school basketball player and a drug-addicted street hustler. Equal parts Salinger, Rimbaud, and Henry Miller, he stred at the darkness in an unfliching, almost conversational manner.
The big regret is that he wasn't more prolific. He did some other music and books, but nothing ever hit the stride of "People Who Died" and "Basketball Diaries". Both have left indelible marks on the literary and music world, whether directly or indirectly.
No comments:
Post a Comment