When Steve Katz, late of Blood Sweat & Tears and the Blues Project, signed on to produce some Lou Reed albums, he discovered that there were two Lou Reeds. ...
Sylvia Reed - Lou Reed's wife, art designer, manager, and reading partner - offers insights into the most productive period of Lou’s career
Sylvia (Morales) Re...
Don Fleming, rock musician (Gumball, Dinosaur Jr, Velvet Monkeys) and producer (Sonic Youth, Teenage Fanclub, Hole, Alice Cooper, Dictators, Joan Jett, Richard ...
He appeared on more Velvet Underground recordings than John Cale or Nico and yet he is seldom mentioned in documentaries about the band, and was not included in...
When is a cover song better than the original? Is it flattery or just a cheap rip-off? Please Kill Me explores 12 cover songs that are better than you may expec...
Mick Rock, self-titled King of Glam Rock Photographers, looks back on his career capturing stunning images of Syd Barrett, Lou Reed, The Stooges, Queen, David B...
Gillian McCain interviews poet and visual artist Todd Colby about his favorite artists and influences
I met Todd Colby about 25 years ago when I was the p...
When Punk magazine writer, Mary Harron, went to England to interview Johnny Rotten in the autumn of 1976, she returned to New York infected with Sex Pistols Fev...
Music on Film is a new podcast that discusses as many aspects of audiovisual marriage as possible. Guests might include a film composer, a director with a propensity for visionary soundtracks, a musician who is featured in a film, or in the case of today’s premiere episode, the subject of a music documentary.
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Twenty years ago, Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain published Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk, a scabby inside-look at the wildly fun, incredibly seedy and at times terrifying underbelly of the 1970s New York City punk scene.
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IF YOU’VE READ it, you probably remember exactly where you were when you first encountered Legs McNeil and Gillian McCain’s Please Kill Me: The Uncensored Oral History of Punk. I first came across the book as a 16-year-old kid in a small town in southwestern Colorado. I’d recently discovered punk, and went about putting safety pins in my clothes and calling myself a punk, but for all I knew, punk rock began and ended with the Sex Pistols. When I found Please Kill Me on the shelf of the local bookstore, I bought it without question, expecting mohawks and mosh pits. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
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