Iggy laying on the floor asking Clive Davis to piss on him.

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Peter O’Toole came into the back room one time and was just sitting there drinking and the usual crowd was there. Ingrid Superstar was doing some number and there was a photographer in the room taking pictures and the flash would go off. Peter O’Toole was getting visibly crazier and crazier and started to appear very irritated. Mickey walked into the back room and Peter O’Toole called Mickey over to his table. “Excuse me, but could you tell those photographers enough is enough. I am here privately and do not wish to be harassed.” Mickey said, “You’re here privately, what does that mean?” He said, “Those photographers, they keep taking pictures of me.” Mickey said, “They aren’t taking pictures of you, they’re taking pictures of Ingrid.” He said, “But I’m Peter O’Toole.” To which Mickey replied, “Oh, are you a painter?”

when he sang about oral sex, cops stopped the show

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“My mother told me that they thought he might have schizophrenia. He might sit with us, but he looked dead-eyed, non-communicative. One evening all of us were watching television. Out of nowhere, Lou began laughing maniacally. We all sat frozen in place. My parents did nothing, said nothing, and ignored it, as if it was not taking place.”
ECT was given as a treatment: twenty-four shocks over several weeks. He was strapped to a gurney. Muscle-relaxant drugs and anaesthetic were administered. A gag was placed in his mouth to stop him biting his tongue. Electrodes were then attached to the sides of his head, and an alternating current passed through his brain. The body went into seizure. Fists clenching, legs trying to kick, his whole body trembling briefly before going limp.
“I watched as my parents assisted him coming home afterwards, unable to walk. It damaged his short-term memory and throughout his life he struggled with memory retention. My father, controlling and rigid, was attempting to solve a situation that was beyond him. My mother was terrified and certain of her own guilt since they had told her this was due to poor mothering. My parents were caught in a bewildering web of guilt, fear and poor psychiatric care. They regretted it every day until the day they died.”

dim lights, provocative gyrations, drug-taking and ‘sexual misconduct’

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‘The Strip was suddenly alive with hairy teen hobos and older hippies in nifty belly-button-baring shirts and little girls with mop straight hair and belted hip huggers settled low and cool on their anatomies. The convergence of social types has created a permanent bumper-to-bumper weekend traffic jam in which it now takes some 30 sardine-like minutes to inch along the strip’s 1.7 miles. Modernist architecture added a celestial feeling to the drive-in restaurants, underground theatres, and coffeehouses, not to mention more than 35 psychedelic/mod nightclubs catering to the scene.’

mod meets pub meets glam meets Johnny Burnette power-chord din

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“Have you had it with Bobby Sherman, Cat Stevens, James Taylor, The Carpenters, Crosby, Stills & Nash, Chicago??? Are you sick and tired of all these sex-less, whitewashed, psychedelic pop-shit groups???? …if so, why doncha subscribe to Rollin’ Rock Magazine and dig some of that wild, crazy, juicy, greasy, all-American rock and roll music!!!!!”

“Dear WTTS, Just received the first 43 issues of Who Took The Shelves, and I had to let you know how excited I am. Your mag sure does fill a void, not only in being a magazine by and for methed-up lunatics like me, but in being chock full of some of the most interesting pornography on the scene today… by any chance would you be interested in a 72-page article on Question Mark & The Mysterians? – Lester Bangs El Cajon CA”

“an assemblage that vibrates with menace, cynicism, and perversion"

pdf (373 pages / 110 MB), with thanks to the original sharer

“We spoke two completely different languages. We were on amphetamine and they were on acid. They were so slow to speak with these wide eyes – ‘oh, wow!’ – so into their ‘vibrations’; we spoke in rapid machine-gun fire about books and paintings and movies. They were into ‘free’ and the American Indian and going ‘back to the land’ and trying to be some kind of ‘true, authentic’ person; we could not have cared less about that. They were homophobic; we were homosexual. Their women, they were these big round-titted girls, you would say hello to them and they would just flop on the bed and fuck you; we liked sexual tension, S&M, not fucking. They were barefoot; we had platform boots. They were eating bread they had baked themselves – and we never ate at all!”

They were weird and different and didn't play songs like everybody else

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Lester Bangs: Rolling Stone had flown me up to San Francisco to check me out, since I had been writing for them for about six months. I guess they wanted to see if I was executive timber. I guess I wasn't, because not only did I get moved from Greil Marcus's to Langdon Winner's house after about two days, but I thought it was as curious that they sat around, not even smoking pot, but listening to Mother Earth and Creedence with absolute seriousness, as they were bewildered by my penchant for guzzling whiskey all day while blasting 'Sister Ray' at top volume ... to make a dismal story mercifully short, I discovered a magazine in Detroit called Creem, whose staff was so crazy they even put the Stooges on the cover. Of every issue! So I left my job and school and girlfriend and beer-drinking buddies and moved to Detroit, where my brand of degenerate drool would be not only tolerated but outright condoned, and over the five years I worked at Creem we used our basic love for it to exploit the punk aesthetic and stance in just about every way humanly possible.

THE MAGAZINE THAT DOESN’T KNOW WHEN TO QUIT!

pdfs of all issues - 1GB! - here

Slash: Tell us about the clubs in N.Y.

Lux: CBGB's is really the only club.

Slash: What about the "downtown bands"?

Lux: My personal opinion is, I think it's a good thing to keep those damned art-rock bands separated some place where they can drop out of art school and work out their neuroses! They don't know anything about rock 'n' roll. You can't dance to their music and I couldn't care less about it. I'm not interested in music you can't dance to. Get them out of the bars and put them in a loft!

Ivy: There are a lot of bands trying to get in at CBGBs but the art bands are keeping them out, they're cluttering up the place. They should call their music what it is. They should play for the artists in Soho. 

Lux: This "new wave," I don't know what it is. When rock 'n' roll changed to rock, it became acceptable. When punk rock changed to new wave it became acceptable and all these muck people started moving in.  Robert Christgau from the Village Voice despises us, so he won't write anything about us except snotty remarks and put-downs. He does not understand a goddam thing on what this band is about in the least. A hundred people told me the show we did at CBGB's was the best they'd ever seen and the review in the Village Voice called it "calculated ... sterile ... boring ... "