While I was reading this wonderful memoir—which is less about girls and drugs (although they're in there) than about the working life of an artist through the second half of the 20th century—I was reminded of a question by the German poet Durs Grünbein:
I don't want to frighten you, but have you ever thought about what happens to people who aren't artists?Keith Richards spared himself that terror. If you want a glimpse into the cost of his calling—the highest calling that we can call a profession—then give the book a long listen. Like his music, it's worth every minute.
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