My Back Pages

I've been reminded of my first national magazine piece--a review for Rolling Stone in the spring of 1970 written when I was still in college.   It led, in its way, to my eight years at Crawdaddy during the rest of the decade.  I'm proud to say that it has made someone's well-known list and commentary of Rolling Stone's "500 Worst Reviews" ever--not only that, it clocks in at #33.   I'd swear it was in the forties just last year so maybe it has "a bullet" as we used to say, referring to the Billboard charts.  The criteria seems to be that you thought an album kind of sucked and it went on to sell millions or even be considered a "classic."  Which still doesn't mean it didn't kind of suck.   P.S.  They spelled my name wrong in the original byline!  I did get my $15, however.