I can’t deny I’ve been on a complete and utter Henry Rollins kick of late. I hadn’t listened to his spoken word tours in a while and then ended up with shift upon shift in the stockroom at work, so played through them to keep me sane. Hours of Henry wittering in your ear is no bad thing.
I thought, you know, I got Amazon vouchers for Christmas, I’ll finally buy some of his books. I find him completely fascinating and hilarious on record, I figure with the time to put together a book it will be worthwhile, be it to the serious or humourous end of his spectrum.
His work is dark, twisted. It’s bleak, really. Brutal, ugly scenarios. But there’s something about it that hooks you in. I can’t deny it was a bit difficult to get through, with some of his internal rambles dragging a bit. But some of the short scenarios – many a mere couple of lines long – really stick with you, make you feel uneasy. There are the occasional icebreakers, raising a rare smile.
It’s odd. You listen to the grown up Henry Rollins talk for hours and hours on end, yet here you get to read words from the depressed, angry at the world young Rollins, and it’s certainly different. You feel like he could still come up with the same calibre of work now, but it would have lost a little edge. He seems more together now, whereas this is far more raw.
Not wholly sold on it, and it was tough at times, but it’s definitely got a real darkness to it.