Rock'n'roll as literature and literature as rock'n'roll

In a month, it will be 25 years since the death of Lester Bangs. More than a music writer, he was a true american writer.

For a pure coincidence, these days I found out two wonderful yet different ways to remember him.
I wanna thank my good friend, the lovely Sheva Golkow, for letting me use her words, a very simple, innocent, but moving memory of Lester:

"(Lester) came through Philly on a booksigning tour promoting that dopey Blondie bio he did. Only a handful of people showed up, and of those, I was the only one there because it was Lester. I was absolutely star struck and so excited to meet him. As far as I was concerned, he was a star - as much of one, if not more than, the people he wrote about. He signed a bunch of things for me, dripping cough syrup on the pages (he was guzzling the stuff), talking all the while to me about music and life. When it was time for him to go to some local radio station to be interviewed, he invited me to come along. I wasn't sure if he was hitting on me or just being friendly, and it is to my eternal regret that I panicked and said no (I was painfully, painfully shy). He gave me a hug and kiss, told me to keep listening, took one more swig of syrup and was off".

The second, is a very interesting article you can find at this link

http://www.christianitytoday.com/bc/2006/006/11.21.html



http://www.christianitytoday.com/bc/2006/006/11.21.html