So you’re an aspiring rock fan trying to make sense of the messed up jumble of proto-punk, punk, post-punk, and New Wave that emerged from the ashes of the not-so-sunny Summer of Love. Names like Lester Bangs, Greil Marcus, and Nick Kent populate this dark epoch of the ’70s, figures who partook in the drugs, nihilism and overall excess of the Me Generation. They dared to stare into the abyss and let it return their gaze. Presented here are some definitive collections of that period, oftentimes shocking books that force us to reconsider the “glamour” of the rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle.

“Psychotic Reactions and Carburetor Dung”
by Lester Bangs
Vintage Books; 1988.

The most famous of his ilk (thanks in no small part to Philip Seymour Hoffman’s portrayal in “Almost Famous”), the late Lester Bangs deserves all the credit. An indefatigable waterfall of opinions, writing in a pill-popping, highly personal style, Bangs has one of the most recognizable voices in all of rock history. “Psychotic Reactions” opens with the title article, a fictitious history of the Count Five that sent me scurrying to Allmusic.com only to find out that Bangs made the whole thing up. The prankster also imagines jamming out to Jethro Tull’s newest record with the president of Vietnam and interviewing a surprisingly verbose Dick Clark. But the true stuff is even better: Bangs’ little duels with Lou Reed are priceless, as is his review of Reed’s unlistenable “Metal Machine Music” (Bangs called it “the greatest album ever made”). The book’s centerpiece, though, is his 35-page excursion on the Clash, which tackles the ups and downs of the burgeoning English punk scene. Guaranteed to impress illiterate punks and literary snobs alike.

“Ranters and Crowd Pleasers” aka “In the Fascist Bathroom”
by Greil Marcus
Doubleday; 1993.

After reading Bangs’ kinetic, imaginative rants, poor ol’ Greil Marcus seems hopelessly academic. But he’s just as important as Bangs in terms of fitting pop music into the rest of the art world. Marcus’ obsessions include the Pistols, Costello, Bruce Springsteen and Ronald Reagan, and he delights in showing us how they all fit together. Sometimes the effect is overwhelming (an article about the Mekons contains so many literary references, you’ll give up early), but sometimes it works (juxtaposing Springsteen’s lyrics with Reagan’s speeches reveals the Boss’ deeper political sentiments). His attention to the underground is also noteworthy; Rough Trade Records receives considerable attention, and Marcus’s coverage of the Gang of Four, X and X-ray Spex is first-rate. You can skip much of the book (especially a 17-page catalogue of rock death in the 70s), but check out the stuff mentioned above for insightful, if somewhat formal, criticism.

“The Dark Stuff”
by Nick Kent
Da Capo; 1994.

Here’s where it gets nasty. Unsure of what to expect, I was first assaulted with a 70-page psychological diagnosis of the Beach Boys’ Brian Wilson. I knew the guy was a perfectionist recluse, but hearing him described as weighing 340 pounds, “lying in a huge bed surrounded by pornography and junk food,” I was mortified. Kent apparently takes great pleasure in professionally reporting the most sordid details of rock stars’ lives. The reader is treated to portraits of Syd Barrett slipping into insanity, Lou Reed as an emaciated, neo-Nazi transvestite, and Sid Vicious whipping the interviewer with a rusty chain. Kent’s subject matter is disgusting, but his writing is peerless, with each interview serving as “Rock ‘n’ Roll Interviewing 101.” The only non-interview, a brief, merciless eulogy for Kurt Cobain, ends the collection on a sour note, but, like the rest of the pieces, it expertly dissects the effects of stardom.

The soundtrack of their lives:
These seminal albums greatly affected the authors and receive no small attention in these books.

Iggy Pop and the Stooges- “Raw Power” (1973).
“The Idiot” and his band of misfits deliver an album of primal urges and raw energy. One of the foremost predecessors of punk.

The New York Dolls- “New York Dolls” (1973).
New York’s tackiest troupe hurls sleazy, gritty riffs and macho vocals all over this slopfest. Proto-punk puke at its finest.

The Sex Pistols- “Never Mind the Bollocks Here’s the Sex Pistols” (1977).
Maybe not the first punk album, but the most influential. Mr. Rotten & co. prophesy “Anarchy in the U.K.” and “no future.”

The Clash- “The Clash” (1977).
The proactive, political answer to the Pistols’ nihilism. Damn catchy tunes, too.

Television- “Marquee Moon” (1977).
New York art-punks that dig the jam! The 11-minute title track is bursting at the seams with solid grooves, poetic lyrics, and Grateful Dead-like guitar interplay.

Richard Hell and the Voidoids- “Blank Generation” (1977).
Was ’77 a great year or what? The man who made torn t-shirts cool unleashes thoroughly weird (and thoroughly bleak) tunes. Fun fact: Hell, a former member of Television, was also in the Heartbreakers with members of the New York Dolls.

Elvis Costello- “My Aim is True” (1979).
Signaled the New Wave era, but also stained with punk’s attitudes. The angry young man meditates on his two favorite themes-revenge and guilt.

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