Word: idols
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Unwittingly, however, Elvis is also a telling documentary about the packaging of the night club "artist" for cinematic consumption. When Peter Watkins made a film called Privilege, the story of the rise of a British rock idol, a few years ago, he stole directly from an American short called lonely Boy a brilliant little glimpse of the early Paul Apka surrounded by the demands of the night club world. Elvis has the same look of fictionalized reality...
GEORGE WALLACE. "All energy and strut . . . he has the dingy attractive air of a B-movie idol, the kind who plays a handsome garage attendant . . . He gives little-boy salutes, snapped off at the end, Wash-your-windshield...
Rence, trying to calm herself with a loud piece of Juicy Fruit, was a bit more passionate in her devotion to her idol. She sleeps with a poster of him and, in an effort to make their relationship a bit closer, keeps duplicate diaries and periodically sends Bobby the contents of one. This will keep him informed about her activities, she figures. No, Rence said, Bobby hadn't returned the favor. But she decided that his failure to do so indicated only that he didn't keep a diary...
...several years she floated around San Francisco from coffee houses to small folk festivals, puffing a little pot and belting out Bessie Smith blues ballads (her other idol was Leadbelly) in a competent but slightly affected style. She was into drugs as well as alcohol, but troubled by the fact. By early 1965, she had pulled out and gone home to her father, mother (a registrar at a local business college), and her younger brother and sister. For two years she dabbled at college, and one way or another got enough learning to read Freud and describe herself...
...group and moved out on her own. With a little help from Albert Grossman, who also manages Bob Dylan, Peter, Paul and Mary and The Band, she soon developed into the world's top female rock singer, commanding as much as $50,000 a night. Like her idol Bessie Smith, Janis had a singing style as earthy as a streetwalker. There were myriad subtle ways in which her voice could range from a deep throaty groan to a high tender croon. When she licked into a phrase like "Oh, I'd be so good to ya, babe, yeah...