100 Books Like Hit Men

If this beautifully illustrated collection of Hollywood tragedies were only kink, only lurid scandal like so many cheap TV potshots, it wouldn’t be the iconic masterpiece it has become. Kenneth Anger’s take on the faded and fallen Hollywood differs because he loves the place and its people with all his heart.

A child starling and renegade director in his own right (Scorpio Rising, Kustom Kar Kommandoes), he oozes child-like wonder and horror on every page. As he puts it in the book’s equally stark sequel, Hollywood Babylon II, the movies “promise immortality, but don’t really deliver.”   

A century ago, the record industry sent representatives all over the country to do field recordings of vernacular artists playing folk, blues, and early country for “hillbilly” and “race” records (the sort that Rounder would start putting out in the 1970s).

One of these scouts was Ralph Peer from the Victor Talking Machine Company, for which he oversaw 1927’s legendary “Bristol Sessions.” It was the first time that Hall of Fame titans the Carter Family and Jimmie Rodgers recorded, generally cited as the beginning of the country music industry.

As explained in Barry Mazor’s excellent biography, Peer went on to become one of the giants of the recording and publishing industry, laying the groundwork that pretty much every record label including Rounder has followed since.

Woody made fun of movie novelizations in Manhattan, but they have a special charm, especially when written by the director.* Tarantino’s gripping novel captures the changing of the guard in Hollywood ’69 as only a native son could, with special attention paid to Manson’s floppo music career.

The book also features some intense scenes that aren’t in the flick. For instance, in one chapter, Manson Family acolyte “Pussycat” creepy crawls into an elderly couple’s home at midnight and strips naked in their bedroom while they sleep and then…yeah, well, try not turning the pages, I dare ya. 

*(Another fine example is The Last Days of Disco, With Cocktails at Petrossian Afterward by Whit Stillman.)

Not usually considered a Hollywood novella per se, Bellow’s “small grey masterpiece” (V.S. Pritchett) tracks failed actor Tommy Wilhelm on a dark Manhattan day when his luck and his money run out.

This book is at once a tender portrait of failure and a searing indictment of the false promises America makes to the gullible. Along the way, Tommy recalls his one and only screen role—as a Hollywood extra, he briefly appeared barelegged in a kilt, pretending to blow bagpipes—just one more humiliation in a string of let-downs. By day’s end, Tommy goes face to face with humanity in a subway station and spirals toward “the heart’s ultimate need”—tears. 

You might think that every artist you hear on the radio is rolling in dough, and it does work out that way for a fortunate few.

But for the vast majority of acts, recording and releasing and promoting music is an enormous amount of work with an uncertain payoff that may never come. Geoffrey Stokes’ from-the-trenches account of the 1970s-vintage country-rock band Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen taking their major-label shot is an eye-opening account of how the sausage gets made – and how hard it is to break even.

In contrast to expensive sessions that leave artists in debt, Rounder’s model was always proudly low-budget.

Commander Cody made that album for Warner Brothers Records during the time when the U.S. record business was grossing over a billion dollars a year.

During those heady days, no label group better exemplified the positive side of the industry than Warner, which stood as proof that you really could have profits with honor. From Frank Sinatra to Madonna, Warner put out music that generated sales and critical acclaim in equal measure.

Stan Cornyn was an executive at Warner for 34 years, overseeing countless publicity campaigns, and this delicious memoir evokes the industry’s glory days in the prestige penthouse. If Rounder was the cream of the independent-label crop, Warner was top of the major-label heap.

The record industry was at its compact-disc-era peak in the late 1990s, when a tech firm called Napster went into business. A file-sharing service, Napster allowed listeners to trade digital versions of songs online for free.

The record industry ignored it at first and then tried to fight it before giving in and offering its music for purchase as online downloads, but it was too late. The genie was out of the bottle, and label revenue plunged by more than half. There were some grim years before online streaming took hold, which boosted the record industry to its highest peak ever in the 2020s.

By then, Rounder was no longer an independent label – sold to the Concord Music Group. It exists to this day, but on a more modest scale than before.

Lessing was the rare woman among Britain’s pack of Angry Young Men in the late Fifties and early Sixties, and, among her primary targets, was Hollywood’s sometimes thin, hyper-sentimental, maudlin version of love.

The centerpiece of this collection is the gut-punching title story, all about an aging theater actor who tries and fails to rekindle an old flame and then ends up with a brash actress half his age.

His new lady’s view of romance is contemporary—which is to say, ice cold. After sleeping with him, she says, “You know what, George? You’ve just got into the habit of loving. You just want something in your arms, that’s all. What do you do when you’re alone? Wrap yourself in a pillow?”  

One of the most legendary producers in music history, Visconti enabled the talent and genius of ground-breaking artists such as David Bowie, Iggy Pop, T Rex, Thin Lizzy, Wings, and U2.

This is an insider’s view from a brilliant musician and arranger, an intimate view from a man whose talent earned the trust of the talented. The book is filled with fascinating personal tales of his work, and photos from his private collection.

I always knew there was something special, even mystical, about Led Zeppelin’s lead guitarist Jimmy Page. As a high school student, there was something about the band that drew me in, as if I didn’t have a choice.

I now know that I love their music, and Page’s playing in particular, because of the vision Page had for the band’s music, lyrics, and iconography on their album covers and artwork. Light and shade, light and heavy, clear and murky, simple and epic—how better to sum up Led Zeppelin?