Debbie Harry

I'll admit I've got a weakness for musician biographies. I read them voraciously. I'm also a disciple of New York punk rock. Choosing to read Deborah Harry's new memoir should have been a no-brainer. Yet I approached it with trepidation.

That was a mistake. The book is phenomenal. Sure it's got it's salacious stories but more than that it captures a spirit and a period of time where the value of art stood on it own and not as a tool to attract more likes, followers, or memes. A time people show more didn't leave the garage after the first band rehearsal looking for a manager, agent, and videographer. A time when the journey truly was as important as the end result.

I'm very glad I got over my initial trepidation with this book and allowed Harry to share her tale with me. I'd recommend that you do the same. show less

The autobiography by Harry and rock journalist Sylvie Simmons. If you're a Blondie fan, as I have been since elementary school, you'll love this. Harry's childhood, discussions about her adoption, and growing up in the 50's and then the hippie era. She talks about spending years trying out this and that, looking for something that made her happy while knowing she didn't want to get married and be normal. Harry's natural weirdness comes through even when she isn't talking about music, show more something that I find endearing.
She discusses meeting Chris Stein, her Blondie co-founder, co-writer and longtime boyfriend, Blondie bandmates, the infamous Hall of Fame induction and the managers who ripped them off, along with discussing the tours and meeting lots of famous people, and the start of punk at CBGB's. She is candid about drug use and rape, and her looks and aging.
This is a heavy book, both because Harry has a lot to say and because it's made with heavy cardstock. It's really heavy. There are photos, of course, but not an excessive amount, and probably even more drawings of Harry from fans that she's saved over the years. I would have given this 5 stars if not for the still unanswered questions about the band's fracturing. show less

I'm not sure why I wanted to read Debbie Harry's memoirs - I like Blondie's hits, and Maria was lodged firmly in my brain while reading, but I'm not really a fan. Face It hasn't changed my mind, either - Debbie is gorgeous ('Luckily, the face I was born with has been a huge asset and I have to admit I like being a pretty person') and Blondie were actually more successful than I realised - although I've never thought of them as 'punk' - but there's nothing new here. Wannabe singer/artist show more living in the right city at the right time forms a trendy band, makes some bad choices, hits the big time, the band breaks up, some personal and emotional angst, bit of acting on the side, name dropping, band makes a come back. That's it, that's Debbie Harry and Blondie. And every other band ever.

Debbie tells her story in a very friendly, forthright and 'kooky' style, however - the last chapter is some stream of consciousness tangent on thumbs ('I thought a little bit of levity might be a good way to end my somewhat morose memoir, hence all this thumb business') - and there are a couple of interesting chapters. She was adopted and tried to find out about her birth parents, she was once raped, and also claims to have been picked up by Ted Bundy ('My story has been debunked since, because Bundy is said to have been in Florida at that time and not NYC'), for instance. Also, I was mostly motivated to learn about her relationship with Blondie guitarist Chris Stein, who she nursed through a particularly nasty illness (pemphigus vulgaris), which she talks about. They split up, and he's married with a family, but they're still good friends.

Debbie's crazy narrative is interspersed with photographs and artwork from fans, mostly of Debbie herself, hence the title. Recommended for fans of Blondie, obviously, otherwise wait until the price drops, like I did, or borrow a copy. show less

It turns out that heroin use is not a good way to build memories. Debbie Harry's memoir, is hampered by this fact as well as her unwillingness to say anything bad about anyone, tell juicy stories or get personal. She's lead an interesting life, what with being a part of the punk/new wave music scene, hanging out and performing at CGBG, a legendary music club in the seventies and eighties, with people like Andy Warhol, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and assorted drag queens and musicians, being part show more of Blondie and touring the world and acting in movies like Hairspray and Videodrome. I just wish there hadn't been so much missing from her memoir.

The book itself is a lovely object. The paper is the kind of thick, matte paper that photographs look good on and there are pictures. Mostly, there is fan art; drawings of Harry sent to her through the years and which she kept. It's a nice, surprisingly sentimental touch from a woman intent in making sure we all know how tough she is (she is very tough, and had to be). There's a lot of name-dropping, but not much in the way of stories. Harry isn't going to say anything bad about anyone and anyway she doesn't remember much of the early CGBG days, has only nice things to say about most of the members of Blondie (there's a bit about two former members behaving badly in 2006) and she's too guarded to say anything about how she felt about any of it along the way.

I'm sure that people who loved Blondie will enjoy this, but it's dull stuff. show less