In the 1960s at his Soho building in New York City, “minimalism” icon Donald Judd would take his phone off the hook and park his elevator on the second floor to avoid the agents, the media, and the young artists who saw him as a mentor. He wanted to work without distraction. Judd found his […]
The N-word and the C-word are the two most dangerous terms in the English language. Steady at No. 3 is “heroin,” which won’t get you punched, but might kill ya. As today’s rebel youth are embracing the deadly drug, you wonder why they choose to ride this roller coaster without seat belts. The easy explanation […]
They’re in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame now, but in the summer of ’74, Aerosmith was known in only two places: their hometown of Boston and the Hawaiian Islands, 6,000 miles away.
“I was done with men,” said Lola.
Before I devoted myself to history, I was prone to hysteria, as a rock critic in love with the notion that opinion can’t be proven incorrect. There was no right or wrong, only interesting or boring.
Return of the drunken Irish bastard.
Mike Flanigin puts down the guitar to sit behind a “desk”
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the soul of a man.
He rides a Harley Prius and once worked security at Old Settler’s for all the gingko tea he could drink.
Producing Dylan, Velvets, Zappa, Sun Ra, Simon & Garfunkel
