In her best-selling memoir, Just Kids, the legendary Patti Smith tells the story of her – wait, who? A songwriter author performer visual artist poet? That’s like ten things; I’m calling bullshit. Did she write Blowin In the Wind? Does she have pipes like Aretha? Did she shock the world with Leaves of Grass? Does she get the stadium rockin’ with Born to Run? Do her paintings hang at the Met next to Cézanne and Manet?
Why does every Baby Boomer who slummed it in New York City in the 60s feel the need to write a 500-page biography with some bullshit twee title slapped on the front?