"The aural equivalent of a Tom of Finland tattoo, this gayest possible album is dedicated to Truman Capote. With no electronics, prominent guitars or snare drums, its genre is kept vague, so there are sort-of accordion chanties and sort-of disco hits whose lead instrument is yang t'chin (Chinese zither). Released in 1986 only two years after the breakup of Soft Cell, this was Marc's third solo album (fifth if you count Marc & the Mambas), on top of which he was releasing 12" EPs longer than many albums, burning his crimson candle at both ends with, according to his memoir, a £26,000 monthly party habit. The literate lyrics are populated by hustlers, boxers, and Yma Sumac, and set in rundown motels, downtown Barcelona, and "the backrooms where soiled goods are sold." Makes a great gift for a confused teenager, along with some Jean Genet and John Rechy."

"The New York Times asked me to review Keith Richards’ rock and roll memoir, Life. Due to a printing delay, I was reading and writing my impression of his chronicle while I was out on tour myself. It was a delight to immerse myself in such a jaw-dropping account of the peripatetic lifestyle I was experiencing, albeit at a much shallower altitude. The Rolling Stones are iconic by any measure. Getting an all access pass backstage through Richards’s eyes to the world beyond the bright lights and throbbing amplifiers is as thrilling as you might imagine. You will laugh out in parts, nod in recognition at the famous cultural touch-points and feel proud to be a music fan. Rock and roll has a very specific ethos, and Life hits upon all of the sacred precepts. Plug it in and turn it up to 11."