I really am getting scared to read the news now: Glenn Frey, Eagles founder, dies aged 67.
I finally got to see the Eagles on their last tour when they came to the O2 in London. I’m just grateful that I got to see the great man in action.
All these musical heroes passing within a few weeks is really getting unsettling…
As if to prove that there’s really no such thing as universal justice, the last two weeks have seen the passing of Lemmy and David Bowie, and yet, Justin Bieber has just set new chart records.
I don’t want to live in a world where Motorhead are no more, where Bowie is dead and where Bieber is king!
Anyway, this was one of my favourite songs when I was little:
I wasn’t born when it was first released in 1969, but after consulting Wikipedia, it must have been the 1975 re-release that caught my imagination. I was four at the time and mad about anything to do with space.
It’s possibly an entirely unreasonable prejudice, but I hate it when publishers replace the covers of novels with promotional tie-ins with TV or movie adaptations.
One of my fave booksellers has the above on their home page. I already own a beat up old copy of War and Peace, but if I felt inclined to read any of the others, I’d be looking on second-hand sites for the originals.
Perhaps it’s down to the sloppy treatment that so many novels receive in remediation to film. Or, perhaps it feels like carrying around an advert – I can’t quite articulate what my problem is. But it seems somehow to cheapen literature.
Of course, no one can blame an author for making money from a movie deal, and jolly good luck to anyone who does. But forgive me if I want my books to look like books rather than lobby cards.