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Miles’ autobiography really wild

I forget where I heard this, but Don Van Vliet (Captain Beefheart) allegedly worked on two novels throughout his life that he never finished. I feel like Hey Garland I Dig Your Tweed Coat is an excerpt from one of these unreleased novels because even though his lyrics are always top notch, the imagery in that one is viscerally vivid in a more prose-y way for Beefheart.

Similarly, billy woods has the lyric "Too scared to write the book, took it, put it in the hook of a song. No one listened to it, looks like I wasn't wrong" and hopefully he comes through with something because he's definitely got the mind to write a real classic.

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Originally Posted by Lisnaholic (Post 2125827)

I guess I'll forever be a dillitante about music because Violent J's book sounds so much more interesting than Harry Partch's.

lol even as someone who's pretty interested in what Partch was writing about, the Violent J book does sound a lot more interesting.

Quote:

Originally Posted by OccultHawk (Post 2126015)

Miles’ autobiography really wild

I've heard the same from a lot of people. It's in my reading queue and I have pretty high expectations.

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Originally Posted by Raime (Post 2126010)

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I'm getting the first book in the mail soon, and I've read a good portion of the second. I haven't been able to get ahold of the David Berman's works until after he passed away, but his lyrics are great, and I've read really good things about both of his books of poetry.

I was tryng to find Actual Air a few months ago and it seemed to be out of print, with older copies going fo hundreds of dollars. But now it seems to be easier to get. Thanks for the reminder.

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Originally Posted by Lisnaholic (Post 2125827)

To judge from grindy and Frownland's reading, the next category could be Musical Analysis and Manifestos, with a last category of Other. I don't know how big the "Other" category might be, but it includes a fair amount of self-indulgent material that probably doesn't appeal much today. That certainly describes Cohen's Beautiful Losers, which I once attempted to read - and here are two samples from books by J Lennon and J Morrison, whose books at least share the great virtue of brevity:

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The first time I read 'The Lords and the New Creatures' by Jim Morrison, I was tripping on acid and I thought the book was brilliant psychedelic poetry. I re-read it later, after the LSD wore off, and I thought it was silly, self-indulgent twaddle.

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Originally Posted by Psy-Fi (Post 2126034)

That's interesting, Psy-Fi: perhaps you had a wilder youth than I imagined.

Of course your confusion of judgement is what many of us go through: consumers, critics and artists themselves. In Brian Wilson's autobiog he details a cocaine-fuelled writing frenzy with Van **** Parks one weekend; after some all-nighters of drugs and inspiration, they had no ability to assess the worth of what they'd written.

I haven't read "The Lords and New Creatures", but just on that one page I posted, this bit seems very good to me:-

We are not constant
We are an arrow in flight
The sum of the angles of change
__________________________________________________ _____________

And as for John Lennon, I should have praised his books more. They are not just brief, they are fun. JL is not trying to be an artist with some exhaulted, portentious message, he's just enjoying the English language, and is a worthy heir to a long tradition going back to Edward Lear and Lewis Carrol.
At one pre-internet time I used to regulary dip into his books to enjoy the likes of the following:-

Spoiler for Quotes from In His Own Write:

And yes, Frownland, now you mention it, Hey Garland sounds much more like an extract from a story than a song.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Lisnaholic (Post 2126400)

And as for John Lennon, I should have praised his books more. They are not just brief, they are fun. JL is not trying to be an artist with some exhaulted, portentious message, he's just enjoying the English language, and is a worthy heir to a long tradition going back to Edward Lear and Lewis Carrol.
At one pre-internet time I used to regulary dip into his books to enjoy the likes of the following:-

Lisna, John's In His Own Write and A Spaniard In The Works still make me larf and larf like Araminta Ditch, larfing to myselve and to udders to the point of hysteriffs. :)

Quote:

"Araminta Ditch was always larfing. She woof larf at these, larf at thas. Always larfing she was. Many body peofle woof look atat her saying, 'Why does that Araminta Ditch keep larfing?' They could never understamp why she was ever larfing about the place. 'I hope she's not larfing at me,' some peokle would say, 'I certainly hope that Araminta Ditch is not larfing at me.

One date Araminta rose up out of her duffle bed, larfing as usual with that insaje larf peojle had come to know her form. 'Hee! Hee! Hee!' she larfed all the way down to breakfart. 'Hee! Hee! Hee!' she gurgled over the morman papiers. 'Hee! Hee! Hee!' continude Araminta on the buzz to wirk. This pubbled the passages and condoctor equally both. 'Why is that boot larfing all the time?' inqueered an elderberry passengeorge who trabelled regularge on that roof and had a write to know.

'I bet nobody knows why I am always larfing,' said Araminta to herself privately, to herself. 'They would dearly love to know why I am always larfing like this to myselve privately to myselve. I bet some peoble would really like to know.' She was right, off course, lots of peotle would.

Araminta Ditch had a boyfred who could never see the joke. 'As long as she's happy,' he said. He was a good man. 'Pray tell me, Araminta, why is it that you larf so readily. Yeaye, but I am sorly troubled sometimes when thy larfter causes sitch tribulation and embarresment amongst my family and elders.' Araminta would larf all the more at an outburp like this, even to the point of hysteriffs. 'Hee! Hee! Hee!' she would scream as if possesed by the very double himself.”

Have read these over the years and would generally recommend:

Ravi Shankar – Raga Mala
Jah Wobble – Memoirs of a Geezer
John Lydon – Rotten: No Irish, No Blacks, No Dogs; and Anger Is An Energy
Richard Lloyd – Everything Is Combustible
Richard Hell – I Dreamed I Was a Very Clean Tramp
Jim Dickinson – I’m Just Dead, I’m Not Gone
Loretta Lynn – Coal Miner’s Daughter
Chris Stamey – A Spy In The House Of Loud
Johnny Ramone – Commando: The Autobiography of Johnny Ramone
Steve Jones – Lonely Boy
Sun Ra – This Planet Is Doomed: The Science Fiction Poetry of Sun Ra
Chris Difford – Some Fantastic Place
Will Carruthers – Playing The Bass With Three Left Hands

Quote:

Originally Posted by ribbons (Post 2126460)

Lisna, John's In His Own Write and A Spaniard In The Works still make me larf and larf like Araminta Ditch, larfing to myselve and to udders to the point of hysteriffs. :)

That's a great quotation about Araminta Ditch, ribbons, with so many funny details in JL's story. Thanks for the post. It's good to meet another enthusiast of JL's books; I have often wondered why they don't get more attention than they do - but then even JL didn't talk about them much, afaik, especially given that he had a platform to promote them like other authors could only dream of. Perhaps he preferred to keep the writing separate from his career as a musician.

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Originally Posted by ribbons (Post 2126462)

Those books are all completely new to me. Best Title Award goes to Chris Stamey: A Spy In The House Of Loud :laughing:

Quote:

Originally Posted by Lisnaholic (Post 2126552)

Lisna, it did appear that John was somewhat uncomfortable with his literary success. As you may know, John was guest of honor at a Foyle’s literary luncheon shortly after the publication of In His Own Write (on the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare's birth, no less). A hungover John did not realize he was expected to make a speech – and stood at the mic merely to mumble, “Thank you very much, and God bless you. You’ve got a lucky face.” The assembled literati were disappointed and Beatles manager Brian Epstein cleaned up with a longer speech.

However: John later had the chance to put his oar in when a woman, while asking for his autograph, remarked, “I never thought I would stoop to asking for such an autograph.” To which John stooped to reply, “And I never thought I would be forced to sign my name for someone like you.” :laughing:

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Originally Posted by Lisnaholic (Post 2126552)

Best Title Award goes to Chris Stamey: A Spy In The House Of Loud :laughing:

Yes - a play on titles by Anais Nin or Jim Morrison, or both! :laughing: