Customer Reviews

The New York Dolls Too Much Too Soon

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When the New York Dolls rang in New Year's 1974 from the stage of the Michigan Palace, I'd only had my driver's license for a few short months and didn't have the guts to drive down to the old barn on Bagley in the heart of downtown Detroit (now the site of a parking lot), not that my old man would have given me the keys to his 1967 Galaxie 500 anyway. So, like an idiot, and despite the fact that I could have stayed home, warm and dry, and listened to a simulcast of the show on WABX, I hopped on my Huffy 10-speed and began pedaling, making my way straight down Michigan Avenue into the madhouse that was the Motor City (all apologies to Ted Nugent) back in those menacing years following the 1967 riots which changed this city forever, a 10-mile trek one way from my house in lily-white Dearborn. How bad was it back then? Every night, prior to its eleven o'clock newscast, one of the local TV stations here would announce "It's eleven o'clock. Do you know where your children are?" At least on that night, I'm sure my parents looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders.

Nina Antonia seems to have cornered the market on New York Dolls books. As far as I can tell, "Too Much Too Soon" is the only one on the market and unless Syl Sylvain, David Johansen, or Arthur Kane decide to pick up a pen or sit down at a keyboard (it's much too late for Billy Murcia, Johnny Thunders, and Jerry Nolan - they've all given up the oxygen habit), it's probably the only one you'll ever need. It's a cogent look through a haze of dope smoke and pills at a band spinning their wheels in search of the muse, clearly way ahead of any marketer's business plan, as well as that of their own management team. Despite the best efforts of Marty Thau and less-than-best efforts of Steve Leber and David Krebs, the Dolls sort of just escaped, ran around, and did a lot of drugs, in the process creating a highly influential milieu it seems the world is still trying to get a handle on 30 years later.

In my mind, there's nothing more boring in a band bio than reading about the hardscrabble lives of the members' parents or grandparents, so to Antonia's credit she gets in and gets out. By the end of the first chapter, the original lineup is in place and lookin' for a kiss, if not a gig, manager, and comfortable pair of heels. Although I've always considered myself a huge fan, Antonia recounts many interesting aspects of the band's history I'd never heard before, to wit (Spoiler Alert!):

* As a teenager, Thunders (nee Genzale) was scouted by the Philadelphia Phillies.

* As the band was forming, founding member Sylvain nipped off to London briefly, leaving the guitar duties to Rick Rivets and Kane, with street rat Thunders on bass. A short time later, Thunders took over the lead chores and prior to Johansen coming on board, also handled the vocals.

* The Dolls were seriously courted by Who manager and Track Records (whom the Heartbreakers later signed with) boss Kit Lambert during their first trip to London for a series of gigs, including one wedged between the Pink Fairies and The Faces at Wembley Pool.

* When Nolan signed on to replace the overdosed Murcia, he received three drumkits and a couch as part of the deal.

* Before Todd Rundgren was selected to produce the first album, the band also kicked around the names of Phil Spector, David Bowie, and Roy Wood.

* Thunders received his first fix from Iggy Pop.

* In Missouri, the band were supported by, and found kindred spirits in (are you sitting down?), Lynyrd Skynyrd, getting, in the words of Peter Jordan, "stoned drunk" together.

* The Dolls were filmed for an aborted Ralph Bakshi film called "Hey Good Looking," with animation to be fit in around them at a later date.

* Jimmy Page thought so highly of Thunders, believing him to be the "next special guitar player," that whenever Led Zeppelin appeared in New York, Page would send a limo around to pick him up.

If it's not already obvious, Antonia has really done her homework (despite a dearth of Dolls-related information and factoids out there) and must have busted her ass tracking down the surviving members of the band as well as uber-groupies Sabel Starr and Cyrinda Foxe-Tyler, roadies, hangers-on, and all of the ex-managers for their input. Yet for all of the critical glory they forged together, the New York Dolls' careers sadly went right down the toilet pretty fast, laid to waste by the now cliche combination of dope, mismanagement, and downright shameful album sales. And as for that New Year's Eve show I went to back in 1973? Definitely in my top ten of all time, due in no small part to a set of disheveled, sleazy gutter rock from the Dolls (for which Sylvain relates to Antonia they were paid $14,000 - God love her!) and the fact that I found a ride home with Pootzer, who let me throw my bike in the trunk of his car.

Too Much, Too Soon is an excellent read about one of the most influential bands of the early seventies. The band only released two albums but they made a deep mark in the pre-punk era and started the first New York punk movement.
The band had many tragedies (the death of Billy Murcia, the orignal drummer) and has been snake bitten repeatedly.
Drugs (Alcohol, Pills, Speed and Heroin) and malaise doomed this band. Only the front man and lead singer David Johansen has managed to remain unscathed whilst
heartbreak has taken Johnny Thunders, Jerry Nolan and most recentally Arthur Kane. All this and more can be found in this brilliant bio (and one of my sources for information).

Highly recommended.

The New York Dolls were pioneers of the punk movement stemming in the early 70's and this book comprehensively chronicles their provocative, inebriated stent as a band. Nina Antonia is very detailed in the roots of the band, from the members' childhood and influences, up to their split after a turbulent tour of Florida. I found the book very interesting and attention-grabbing, and I learned a lot of stuff I did not know before. This edition also includes some nice classic photos of the Dolls. A reccomended read for any fan of the band.

I saw The Dolls the first time they played the west coast, at The Whiskey. I bought their first album the day it came out. This is the worlds greatest rock band, bar none. So I love TOO MUCH, TOO SOON because it gives me a look inside the private world of these guys who were such a comfort to me during my years in teenage wasteland. I missed the Shangra-Las, but The Dolls more than made up for it!

I agree with Paul 110% I discovered this album thanks to his excellent journalism on this artform. The term music is not sufficient to describe this medium, as listening to it provokes a feeling of overwhelmingly sensations. As a woman, this album incurrs a raw sexual energy that makes me question my modesty. The raw totality of DJ's talents is so all encompasing that I hardly consider him to be a mortal man. I find myself questioning my existence on this auditory planet. As I experience this album I like to indulge myself in the inspirational pages of Larry McMurtry, and doing these acts simultaneously is a glorious experience second only to religious ecstacy.