Read this book, thanks to _slasher_
Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain
The true story of punk rock in the stories of its participants
Translation by Anton Skobin, Max Dolgov
Judging by the book, those people were crazy and desperate. They didn't really think about much , devoured drugs for breakfast, lunch and dinner, fucked just about anyone, wore women's clothes, cut themselves with knives and died.
To each their own, of course. But there was no real meaning in what was happening, and they weren't looking for it either, unlike their English followers and researchers, who droned on about the social nature of punk.
"James Sliman: When Steve lived in Cleveland, he'd have fun like this every night. We'd get drunk, Steve would take off his pants, and then, without letting go of the steering wheel, he'd climb onto the windshield of the car and show everyone his bare ass. It was his favorite trick. His dick was pressed against the windshield, while his ass stuck out for everyone to see."
"Richard Hell: Quine takes maniacal care of his guitars. On stage he usually moved back as far as possible, he wanted to be away from the audience, who were spitting at the musicians. But someone hit his guitar with a big, thick loogie. He saw who did it, and broke that guy's jaw with the guitar.
So get this, that guy then came backstage to him to ask for an autograph! They were nuts, they were like British football fans, a feral crowd, a classic case. They wanted a rush, aggression and filth, to go berserk, you know?"
"James Grauerholz: Patti told me that she envisioned this performance as an ecstatic merging of life and death. During performances she adhered to a «whirling dervish» philosophy and thought that falling into a trance – was her duty to the audience. She told me that she frequently masturbates on stage."
"Bob Gruen: We went to a gay store, a giant supermarket of leather goods, so the guys could buy leather jackets. The store had plenty of everything: there were dildos, and some kind of gels. Sid bought leather bracelets, leather belts, and besides that – all sorts of gels, lube for ass-fucking – and smeared his head. They were like cream, and Sid squeezed a whole tube onto his hair and spiked it up. Johnny Rotten said: «Brilliant, Sid! Now you can stick your head in somebody's ass»."
"Scott Asheton: Sable dyed her pubic hair green. She'd swim on her back and do a backbend, so her pubes stuck out, and this green mop fluttered in the wind, ha-ha-ha!"
"Bob Gruen:
This flashy blonde turned out to be a guy who had gotten rid of his dick through surgery. Everyone in Tulsa knew him, but we didn't. At first glance he looked like a pretty girl.
Eventually Sid went with her to his room, and everyone who was at the party said: «Wow! Sid went with a transsexual».
When he got back, we started asking: «Hey, Sid, well, how was it?»
He answered: «Uhhh, it was okay».
Sid didn't go looking for adventures, adventures found him on their own. It was like he was some kind of magnet. Everything just dumped on him. Sketchy things were constantly happening around Sid. That same night some Vietnam War vet offered Sid his girlfriend, and the vet wanted to watch the process himself.
A little while later Sid came back and said: «I just shit in