After a number of intriguing reviews (this one is a tad more balanced*), I’m quite interested in the new Keith Richards autobiography. Boatloads of “substances” aside (admittedly this is an “aside” akin to discussing the Statue of Liberty while ignoring her torch), he has always seemed a rather level-headed matter-of-fact fellow, to say nothing of the fact that I like the way he speaks kindly of his Mum and Dad (Bert and Doris). In his grandpa years he appears utterly at home in his admittedly remarkable skin, long past straining to be any more or less than he is…and that is the hippest attitude of all.
Now I find out the audiobook version of his autobiography is narrated by Johnny Depp, and it struck me this results in a hip factor capable of bending light. If Willie Nelson gets involved, the result will be a black (velvet) hole of coolness capable of smoothly devouring the universe.
*Supplementing that balance, Peter Hitchens, who in addition to disliking the book (second item, featuring clarifying photo of Keith) describes Keith Richards as “a capering streak of living gristle who ought to be exhibited as a warning to the young of what drugs can do to you even if you’re lucky enough not to choke on your own vomit.” Um, on board or not, the phrase “capering streak of living gristle” is writing that’ll scorch yer pinfeathers.
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