Wild Thing

July 1, 2020
A perceptive look at the rock superstar. Norman has created a successful niche for himself writing first-rate biographies of rock musicians, including John Lennon, Mick Jagger, Eric Clapton, Elton John, and Buddy Holly. Add to that esteemed list James Marshall Hendrix (1942-1970). Sharon Lawrence, a former reporter and a close, "platonic" friend of Hendrix's, was a consultant, and the title of the book ostensibly refers to Hendrix. However, born in Seattle to alcoholic parents, Jimi wasn't all that wild--until he got on stage, playing his guitar with his teeth, something he learned from a band mate, or smashing and burning it. Norman describes a poverty-stricken, shy youth whose aunt gave him the $5 he needed to buy his first guitar at age 15. Left-handed, he turned it upside down to play. "From that moment on," his brother recalls, he "lived only for the guitar." Hendrix dropped out of high school, did a stint in the Army, and played backup for the likes of Ray Charles, the Isley Brothers, and Little Richard. His big break came thanks to Chas Chandler of the Animals, who was interested in trying management. Much impressed by Hendrix, he brought him to London in 1966 to perform, later signing him up. Chandler also found his band mates for the Jimi Hendrix Experience: bassist Noel Redding and drummer Mitch Mitchell. Norman does a fine job recounting the remaining whirlwind years of his subject's life, discussing individual songs; the admiration of fellow guitarists; his stunning American debut at the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967, which turned him into a flamboyant fashion icon and a legend in his own time; and the "bizarre" tale of his plaster-cast penis. The author goes into detail about the days and hours before Hendrix's death in London from an overdose of sleeping pills. "Jimi's death," writes Norman, "would be replayed over and over, with as many variations, and improvisations, as one of his guitar solos." An intimate, accomplished biography of a peerless musician.

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Starred review from July 1, 2020

James Marshall Hendrix (1942-70) will be forever remembered as one of the key figures in rock music. Rolling Stone magazine is not alone in ranking him "the greatest guitarist of all time." Sadly, he is also a member of the 27 Club, those memorable musicians including Robert Johnson, Janis Joplin, Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, and Amy Winehouse who all perished at that young age, and it's that tragedy that informs Norman's (Paul McCartney: A Life) book as much as the extraordinary musicianship of his subject. Norman weaves artistic achievement, personal struggles, and management difficulties together, making the tragic outcome seem if not acceptable then at least understandable. Occasional suggestions of what Hendrix might have been thinking notwithstanding, Norman avoids sounding overly sensationalist and draws heavily on his revered biographies of other key figures of the time for context and color. Readers searching for complete details of Hendrix's recorded work will need to look elsewhere, as this is by no means a definitive catalog of his output. But as a biography of the legendary ax man, this is the one. VERDICT There will be much interest in all things Hendrix on the 50th anniversary of his death this September. As his chronicler, Norman is, most definitely, experienced. Essential for music collections and anyone interested in Hendrix or music of the 1960s. [See Prepub Alert, 4/15/20.]--Bill Baars, formerly with Lake Oswego P.L., OR

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Starred review from July 13, 2020
In this rollicking biography, Norman (Paul McCartney) follows the electric guitar god from hardscrabble Seattle boyhood to enormous fame and his 1970 martyrdom to rock-star excess. (The author’s lengthy postmortem considers conspiracy theory suspects—his manager, the mafia, the CIA—before returning to the official line that he overdosed on sleeping pills and drowned in his vomit.) Norman styles Hendrix as a great Black crossover pioneer who founded heavy metal with his flamboyant stagecraft and use of feedback and other effects in his virtuosic solos, which saw him play guitars with his teeth and behind his back and then hump, burn, and smash his instruments in ritual sacrifice. (Offstage, Hendrix is more shy naif than rock demon in Norman’s telling.) Norman combines colorful, energetic picaresque—“It might have been a brilliant duet had not Morrison been helplessly drunk and ruined the recording by shouting ‘I want to suck your cock’ at Jimi until Janis Joplin subdued him by breaking a bottle over his head”—with lush evocations of Hendrix’s sound. (One solo “resembles a thrillride through some extraterrestrial cityscape, each gush of the slide like a glowing elevator, sibiliantly ascending or descending.”) Norman’s entertaining, psychedelically tinged portrait shows why Hendrix made such a deep impression on rock ’n’ roll.