Marc Spitz

the early 80s were just a time of superstar duets, weren’t they? i mean it was like junk bonds, just throw two big names together and then cash out before anybody realized the (mostly cover) tracks weren’t very good. in a way, you have to hand it to things like “State of Shock” or “Say, Say, Say” because at least they were originals. new hooks.

am about to write about the devil. i should specify, the chapter in the book where mick flirts with what marianne called (in her first memoir) “pantomime satanism.” i don’t believe in any of it, personally. i wish i did. god. the devil. ghosts. spirits. it’s a pretty flat and lonely existence when you can’t get a calling, whether it’s popular or what others consider fringe (see, i write so stilted for fear of offending and mostly out of shame in my hyper-agnosticism that this chapter can’t possibly be any good. i almost want to hire someone with a bit more juice in them to write the bit for me). i was sort of shorted on the faith thing. i also have low arches. and allergies. i sold my soul for rock n’ roll, yes, but i’ve since bought it back on the installment plan.