Whenever I read anything even remotely relating to the New York punk scene in the 70s, I get an immediate rush of inspiration. It’s not even always to create something or be proactive, but just to read about people’s lives in the time is so fascinating. I feel truly lucky to be living in a time of such proximity so as to be able to learn about such an explosive era of modern culture. And even though I own no albums by Patti Smith, nor have beyond a vague introduction to Robert Mapplethorpe’s photography, the former’s account of their relationship is simply just too interesting to put down. CBGB’s is nothing more than a hiccup in this book, a break from digesting their dynamic time together. In an oddly voyeuristic stance, I yearned to feel as close to anyone as they did to each other. The key component of this work is the brilliance of Smith’s writing. And despite perhaps an overuse of the word ‘talisman’ (although overused for a reason), I hanged on every word as poor Robert hung on to every last blood cell.
