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"Jerry Lee Lewis was waiting in the lobby of the William Morris Agency, New York, one day in 1958. The receptionist was very attractive and, as he loved to, he began to tell her of life on the road, of how he nearly pushed Paul Anka off the roof of a hotel, all kinds of wildness. After a while, he paused. “What if I told you that none of that was true?” he asked her.
She looked crestfallen. “Please don’t tell me that. That’s the Jerry Lee Lewis I know. The one people love.”
"Jerry Lee Lewis always hoped that his music was what he would be remembered for. Given that he spent his life so close to the edge that he was usually dangling over it, it was always going to be tricky to separate the myths and legends of a man nicknamed “the Killer” from bare Top 40 statistics. He considered himself a “stylist” – not just a musician but a complete package, fully formed from his very first record. “You are either hot or cold,” he would say. “If you are lukewarm, the Lord will spew you forth from his mouth.” He would spend much of his life wrestling with his southern upbringing and his conscience, torn between his piano and the pulpit; he had outlived two wives and two children by the time he was 60. His life story would provide rich enough material for two extremely strong biographies."
RIP Jerry you mad f****r. Article here.
She looked crestfallen. “Please don’t tell me that. That’s the Jerry Lee Lewis I know. The one people love.”
"Jerry Lee Lewis always hoped that his music was what he would be remembered for. Given that he spent his life so close to the edge that he was usually dangling over it, it was always going to be tricky to separate the myths and legends of a man nicknamed “the Killer” from bare Top 40 statistics. He considered himself a “stylist” – not just a musician but a complete package, fully formed from his very first record. “You are either hot or cold,” he would say. “If you are lukewarm, the Lord will spew you forth from his mouth.” He would spend much of his life wrestling with his southern upbringing and his conscience, torn between his piano and the pulpit; he had outlived two wives and two children by the time he was 60. His life story would provide rich enough material for two extremely strong biographies."
RIP Jerry you mad f****r. Article here.
