An entertaining celebration of punk rock’s golden age and a cautionary tale about overreach and excess.
A pointed history of the rise and fall of one of the earliest alt-rock record labels.
All labels have problems, as any musician will tell you, no matter what their good intentions. In the U.K., the case in point is Factory Records. In the U.S., it’s SST, the subject of journalist and aficionado Ruland’s dig into the archives. Greg Ginn founded SST Records as a preteen in the exurbs of Los Angeles County, locked in his bedroom as a ham-radio geek selling hard-to-find electronic parts. He found his way to a guitar, drifted from heavy metal to punk, and founded the iconic band Black Flag. SST, along with a few other indie labels, “bolstered the fractious scene and proved that punk rock was more than fucked-up kids with blue hair playing dress-up.” In a Southern California scene that featured bands like Black Flag, the Germs, the Weirdos, and the Minutemen, Ruland notes two constants: SST’s business and accounting methods were as anarchic as the music, and if homogenizing corporate radio was an enemy, a worse one was the LAPD, which declared open war on the unruly kids. SST signed now-legendary bands such as the Meat Puppets, Hüsker Dü, Soundgarden, and Sonic Youth, but the business practices worsened. Lawsuits mounted, bands defected, royalties went astray, and, ultimately, writes Ruland, many of the label’s contracts were flat-out illegal, commingling publishing and recording contracts. More than four decades later, the label still exists, though it’s been quiet for a decade. The author closes by noting that while die-hards wonder why SST hasn’t cashed in on the remaster, deluxe-edition craze, the answer is simple: Many masters have gone missing, and “the vast majority of these records were produced for very little money during a short period of time in studios rented by the hour,” with iffy sound quality.
An entertaining celebration of punk rock’s golden age and a cautionary tale about overreach and excess.Pub Date: April 12, 2022
ISBN: 978-0-306-92548-1
Page Count: 432
Publisher: Hachette
Review Posted Online: Jan. 21, 2022
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 15, 2022
A blissfully vicarious, heartfelt glimpse into the life of a Manhattan burlesque dancer.
A former New York City dancer reflects on her zesty heyday in the 1970s.
Discovered on a Manhattan street in 2020 and introduced on Stanton’s Humans of New York Instagram page, Johnson, then 76, shares her dynamic history as a “fiercely independent” Black burlesque dancer who used the stage name Tanqueray and became a celebrated fixture in midtown adult theaters. “I was the only black girl making white girl money,” she boasts, telling a vibrant story about sex and struggle in a bygone era. Frank and unapologetic, Johnson vividly captures aspects of her former life as a stage seductress shimmying to blues tracks during 18-minute sets or sewing lingerie for plus-sized dancers. Though her work was far from the Broadway shows she dreamed about, it eventually became all about the nightly hustle to simply survive. Her anecdotes are humorous, heartfelt, and supremely captivating, recounted with the passion of a true survivor and the acerbic wit of a weathered, street-wise New Yorker. She shares stories of growing up in an abusive household in Albany in the 1940s, a teenage pregnancy, and prison time for robbery as nonchalantly as she recalls selling rhinestone G-strings to prostitutes to make them sparkle in the headlights of passing cars. Complemented by an array of revealing personal photographs, the narrative alternates between heartfelt nostalgia about the seedier side of Manhattan’s go-go scene and funny quips about her unconventional stage performances. Encounters with a variety of hardworking dancers, drag queens, and pimps, plus an account of the complexities of a first love with a drug-addled hustler, fill out the memoir with personality and candor. With a narrative assist from Stanton, the result is a consistently titillating and often moving story of human struggle as well as an insider glimpse into the days when Times Square was considered the Big Apple’s gloriously unpolished underbelly. The book also includes Yee’s lush watercolor illustrations.
A blissfully vicarious, heartfelt glimpse into the life of a Manhattan burlesque dancer.Pub Date: July 12, 2022
ISBN: 978-1-250-27827-2
Page Count: 192
Publisher: St. Martin's
Review Posted Online: July 27, 2022
A charming and often poignant valediction from rock ’n’ roll’s Prince of Darkness.
The late heavy metal legend considers his mortality in this posthumous memoir.
“I ain’t ready to go anywhere,” writes Osbourne in the opening pages of his new memoir. “It’s good being alive. I like it. I want to be here with my family.” Given the context—Osbourne died on July 22, 2025, two weeks after the publisher announced the news of this book—it’s undeniably sad. But the rest of the text sees the Black Sabbath singer confronting the health struggles of his last years with dark humor and something approaching grace. The memoir begins in 2018; he wrote an earlier one, I Am Ozzy, in 2010. He tells of a staph infection he suffered that proved to be the start of a long, painful battle with various illnesses—soon after, he contracted a flu, which morphed into pneumonia. A spinal injury caused by a fall followed, causing him to undergo a series of surgeries and leaving him struggling with intense pain. And then there was his diagnosis of Parkinson’s disease, the treatment of which was complicated by his longtime struggle with alcohol and drug addiction. Osbourne peppers the chronicle of his final years with anecdotes from his past, growing up in Birmingham, England, and playing with—and then being fired from—Black Sabbath, and some of his most well-known antics (yes, he does address biting the heads off of a dove and a bat). He writes candidly and regretfully about the time he viciously attacked his wife, Sharon—the book is in many ways a love letter to her and his children. The memoir showcases Osbourne’s wit and charm; it’s rambling and disorganized, but so was he. It functions as both a farewell and a confession, and fans will likely find much to admire in this account. “Death’s been knocking at my door for the last six years, louder and louder,” he writes. “And at some point, I’m gonna have to let him in.”
A charming and often poignant valediction from rock ’n’ roll’s Prince of Darkness.Pub Date: Oct. 7, 2025
ISBN: 9781538775417
Page Count: 368
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Review Posted Online: Oct. 7, 2025
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Nov. 1, 2025
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