LOONEY TOONS
So Lester Bangs came back to his Midwestern home after a lengthy farewell to Sweet Home San Diego; the best thing about that — in the aesthetic sense — is that El Bangs likes the new rock and roll better’n anybody. Not only that, he’s articulate.
Part One: CRAZY ’BOUT THE LA-LA
So Lester Bangs came back to his Midwestern home after a lengthy farewell to Sweet Home San Diego; the best thing about that — in the aesthetic sense — is that El Bangs likes the new rock and roll better’n anybody. Not only that, he’s articulate.
So we both wind up listening to Black Sabbath a lot — actually, I sort of leave it up to him to put it on, since I O.D.’d on Master of Reality awhile before he arrived, and sometimes things need a rest. (Like, I don’t care to ever hear “Sympathy For The Devil” again.)
Then, our local paper, the Fifth Estate called to ask if I would write a piece on Grand Funk’s second homecoming, since I have been known to shoot off my mouth both frequently and publicly on the subject of the Ferocious Flintlings and their rejection by all and sundry in the vaunted Alternative Media — a relatively monolithic syndrome, indeed, considering its pretensions. I said, O.K. Of course.