If anything, today, the cult of Jawbreaker-in their own words, "the little band that could but would probably rather not"-is now many times greater than it was when they broke up in 1996. Like the best work of Fugazi, The Clash, and Operation Ivy, the album is now is a rite of passage and a beloved classic among partisans of intelligent, committed, literary punk music and poetry.Why, when a thousand other artists came and went in that confounding decade of the 90s, did Jawbreaker somehow come to seem like more than just another band? Why do they persist, today, in meaning so much to so many people? And how did it happen that, two years after releasing their masterpiece, the band that was somehow more than just a band to its fans-closer to equipment for living-was no longer?Ronen Givony's 24 Hour Revenge Therapy is an extended tribute in the spirit of Nicholson Baker's U & I a passionate, highly personal, and occasionally obsessive study of one of the great confessional rock albums of the 90s. At the same time, it offers a quizzical look back to the toxic authenticity battles of the decade, ponders what happened to the question of "selling out," and asks whether we today are enriched or impoverished by that debate becoming obsolete.

    January 30, 1969 was one of those moments. There are those who were on the periphery of the event that day and heard what was going on; but as one of the few remaining insiders who accompanied the Beatles up onto the cold windswept roof of the Apple building, Ken Mansfield had a front row seat to the full sensory experience of the moment and witnessed what turned out to be beginning of the end. Ken shares in The Roof: The Beatles Final Concert, the sense that something special was taking place before his eyes that would live on forever in the hearts and souls of millions. As the US manager of Apple, Ken Mansfield was on the scene in the days, weeks, and months leading up to this monumental event. He shares his insights into the factors that brought them up onto that roof and why one of the greatest bands of all time left it all on that stage. Join Ken as he reflects on the relationships he built with the Fab Four and the Apple corps and what each player meant to this symphony of music history.

    This is his memoir of life at the heart of prog rock, art rock, & modern jazz. It is an honest, entertaining, well-written account of life on the road & in the studio.

    He is the only remaining original member of the group since the inception of April Wine in 1969. Goodwyn grew up poor and is the classic “small-town kid makes good” success story. As a young teen, Goodwyn honed his skills, playing in bands such as East Gate Sanctuary and Woody’s Termites. From the very beginning, Goodwyn plotted the course of the band. His unique but classic rock voice gives April Wine a distinct and immediately recognizable sound. Ranging from hard rock classics to soulful ballads, his vocal range and style can really grab a hold of you. His songwriting skills are prolific. He has penned virtually every April Wine song. He has a knack with words and seems to have an ability to write a catchy tune at will. Through the ups and downs and changing faces of the band, the one thing that has remained constant is Myles Goodwyn. Even today and with their latest release and shift in direction, his voice is as strong and apparent as ever. Now in its fourth decade, April Wine continues to charge ahead as one of Canada’s very best rock bands. And as far as rock history goes, Myles Goodwyn is already a living legend (especially in the annals of Canadian rock history), being known as one of the all-time greats.In Just Between You and Me, Goodwyn shares the story of his upbringing, first at home in rural New Brunswick and then in the music business as the lead singer of one of Canada’s most popular bands ever, April Wine.

    A collection of some of Bowie's most famous and insightful words that will continue to inspire gener....

    Charts the amazing fifty-year history of the British music business, where bad behaviour is encouraged, and where drugs are sometimes as important as talent.

    Neil is a dentally challenged, reluctantly hip downtown scribe whose life's work is "Dusted, " the 'zine that once earned him the title of New Jack Poet Warrior. But when the mag folds, Neil is left with an aching mouth and the realization that the icons of his time are either dying young, cashing in or dropping out. It's a time of reckoning— the perfect moment to cancel dental appointments and take off on a drift through the global ghetto. From the gritty grind of New York to the dark glitter of Hollywood, through the tropical wilds of Indonesia and the crumbling squats of East London, Neil embarks on a soulful search for a woman to love and a place to call home. But answers will remain elusive until the roaming writer tests both his friends and his beliefs, and commits to a plan to make peace with his teeth.With deft insight, sly humor, and dazzling prose, Hugh Gallagher captures the conflict of finding one's way in a culture that mocks ambition while craving celebrity. At once a saddening chronicle of childhood's end and an epic dental saga through a world of possible futures, "Teeth" is a touching resonant anthem for all those truly hungry for a solid bite out of life.

    They were all under contract to CBS Records, making it the most successful label of the era. And, as the company’s president, Walter Yetnikoff was the ruling monarch. He was also the most flamboyant, volatile and controversial personality to emerge from an industry and era defined by sex, drugs and debauchery. Having risen from working-class Brooklyn and the legal department of CBS, Yetnikoff, who freely admitted to being tone deaf, was an unlikely label head. But he had an uncanny knack for fostering talent and intimidating rivals with his appalling behavior—usually fueled by an explosive combination of cocaine and alcohol. His tantrums, appetite for mind-altering substances and sexual exploits were legendary. In Japan to meet the Sony executives who acquired CBS during his tenure, Walter was assigned a minder who confined him to a hotel room. True to form, Walter raided the minibar, got blasted and, seeing no other means of escape, opened a hotel window and vented his rage by literally howling at the moon. In Howling at the Moon, Yetnikoff traces his journey as he climbed the corporate mountain, danced on its summit and crashed and burned. We see how Walter became the father-confessor to Michael Jackson as the King of Pop reconstructed his face and agonized over his image while constructing Thriller (and how, after it won seven Grammies, Jackson made the preposterous demand that Walter take producer Quincy Jones’s name off the album); we see Walter, in maniacal pursuit of a contract, chase the Rolling Stones around the world and nearly come to blows with Mick Jagger in the process; we get the tale of how Walter and Marvin Gaye—fresh from the success of “Sexual Healing”—share the same woman, and of how Walter bonds with Bob Dylan because of their mutual Jewishness. At the same time we witness Yetnikoff’s clashes with Barry Diller, David Geffen, Tommy Mottola, Allen Grubman and a host of others. Seemingly, the more Yetnikoff feeds his cravings for power, sex, liquor and cocaine, the more profitable CBS becomes—from $485 million to well over $2 billion—until he finally succumbs, ironically, not to substances, but to a corporate coup. Reflecting on the sinister cycle that left his career in tatters and CBS flush with cash, Yetnikoff emerges with a hunger for redemption and a new reverence for his working-class Brooklyn roots.Ruthlessly candid, uproariously hilarious and compulsively readable, Howling at the Moon is a blistering You’ll Never Eat Lunch in this Town Again of the music industry.

    He later worked with the Beatles as they recorded their singles “She Loves You” and “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” the songs that would propel them to international superstardom. In 1964 he would witness the transformation of this young and playful group from Liverpool into professional, polished musicians as they put to tape classic songs such as “Eight Days A Week” and “I Feel Fine.” Then, in 1966, at age nineteen, Geoff Emerick became the Beatles’ chief engineer, the man responsible for their distinctive sound as they recorded the classic album Revolver, in which they pioneered innovative recording techniques that changed the course of rock history. Emerick would also engineer the monumental Sgt. Pepper and Abbey Road albums, considered by many the greatest rock recordings of all time. In Here, There and Everywhere he reveals the creative process of the band in the studio, and describes how he achieved the sounds on their most famous songs. Emerick also brings to light the personal dynamics of the band, from the relentless (and increasingly mean-spirited) competition between Lennon and McCartney to the infighting and frustration that eventually brought a bitter end to the greatest rock band the world has ever known.