I remember blaring Lou Reed’s Transformer out the window of my gold ’65 Chevy Malibu, slowing down as I approached the back side of Grant High School in Van Nuys so the unenlightened knucklehead jocks on the playground could clearly hear the do do do do do do do do do do’s of “Walk on the Wild Side.” My cassette deck was shitty sounding but extremely loud. While my first pubic hairs were sprouting, shape shifting, axe-slinging aliens were landing across Planet Rock, leaving one musical monolith after another. It varies, depending on the circumstance and subject.” Mick’s openness and ability to relish the moment enabled him to flow within the unfolding groove, snapping off split second frames, capturing a brief and exciting essence of evolving stardom for us all to vicariously devour. “I don’t think I have a style,” he once said, “but I do have an attitude. Like the family photographer at a holiday gathering, he was integral to the 70’s British rock scene, capturing moments that only the honored visual documentarian of the inner sanctum has access to. Michael David “Mick” Rock’s photography is a visual mural of my teens.
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