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In 1964, at the age of 13, Jim Carroll was a New York street punk playing basketball, sniffing glue, and writing poetry and diaries. His basketball coach helped him earn an athletic/academic scholarship to Trinity High School; there, "one of the brothers, hip to the light in Jim's eyes, made him the sports editor of the school paper and passed along columns by Red Smith and others that Jim would study, underlining metaphors, and slowly begin to understand the craft of writing" (Milward 142). When Carroll was 15, he began attending poetry readings at the St. Mark's Church (170). By age 16, he was addicted to heroin and hustling gay men to support his habit, was reading Allen Ginsberg, Frank O'Hara, and Jack Kerouac. He published his first book of poetry, Organic Trains, when he was 17.

Carroll approached Ted Berrigan in 1967, asking him to read Organic Trains; Berrigan did, and called Carroll "the first truly new American poet" (9). The St. Mark's Poetry Project, which assembled such poets as Anne Waldman, Allen Ginsberg, and John Ashbery, continually provided a positive atmosphere for Carroll's growing aspirations, and Ted Berrigan further extended his support by taking Carroll to Maine to visit Jack Kerouac. Kerouac, after reading portions of The Basketball Diaries, stated that "at the age of 13, Jim Carroll writes better prose than 89 per cent of the novelists working today" (Fissinger 44). Even William S. Burroughs stepped in, commenting that Carroll "must be a born writer" (Infusino). At 19 Carroll won the Random House Young Writer's Award (1970) <Note 1> for excerpts from The Basketball Diaries printed in Paris Review.

After a month of college, Carroll dropped out to become assistant to New York artist Larry Rivers, worked odd jobs at Andy Warhol's Factory, frequented the backroom of Max's Kansas City where the Velvet Underground was performing, and was Patti Smith's beau for a time. By the time he was twenty years old, he was deeply enmeshed in New York's art scene; however, at the same time, his heroin addiction had utterly taken over his life: in 1973 Carroll fled to Bolinas, California, to kick the habit. He spent the first four years in Bolinas "practically a recluse . . . learning to enjoy boredom" for the first time in his life; toward the end of this period of seclusion, Carroll began writing rock lyrics (Rivers). By 1980 he had formed the Jim Carroll Band and was an acclaimed rock 'n' roll star.

Clearly, this is no ordinary writer. In his many incarnations, Carroll has been compared to such diverse figures as Arthur Rimbaud, Lou Reed, Patti Smith, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Frank O'Hara, the Ramones, the Rolling Stones, and the New York Dolls, among others--but no definition quite fits. The one certainty is that, because he has crossed the line between poet and rock lyricist, he blurs the distinction between popular artist and "serious" writer. This undefinable Jim Carroll is both author and character of his prose, poetry, and song lyrics, essentially creating and defining himself as he goes. Carroll knows what he's doing: as Gerard Malanga says of Living at the Movies, Carroll "fully understands the nature of poetry because he perceives and follows the nature of his own life, and with that recognition of his nature, he is able to write about it."

In The Basketball Diaries, written between the ages of 12 and 16, Carroll seems to be writing during time-outs, recording daily events of his life in New York City, perhaps unaware that he is a "writer." Perry notes that "in 'Basketball Diaries,' intentionally or not, he did a marvelous job of establishing his character--pulling no punches and holding nothing back . . . " and that "Carroll . . . tells a mean story both of a young punk searching for a pure high, and of a young man searching for a pure reality" (E6). Jamie James calls the book "Catcher in the Rye for real, for bigger stakes"; judging from the excerpts printed in poetry journals, "It seemed to be the charming but trivial work of a precociously gifted young writer. The catch was that anyone who had read Jimmy Carroll's poetry . . . knew it was charming but trivial like Moby Dick is charming but trivial."

Bart Platenga comments: "The Diaries are a real Jekyll & Hyde affair. Has his public life of 'great potential' he's college material by day but lowlifer by night. Loves basketball for its grace, finesse, and sweat, plus all the girls he meets through his playing . . . Basketball and heroin serve as ways IN as well as a way OUT." To the public, Carroll is a promising basketball star, but behind the scenes he describes his growing heroin addiction, experimentation with LSD, his adventures hustling gay men and mugging passers-by in Central Park--and "The stories are made all the more harrowing by the simple fact that Carroll was not like most writers, a silent observer lurking in the corners, unwilling to speak or step far enough into the room to become noticeable. Carroll was a participant" (Perry E5).

Malanga says of Living at the Movies that "Mr. Carroll's poems are populated with people he has loved and crowded with those who love him. His poems are irrigated by friends, by his own kind and consanguinity" (164), which also applies to Carroll's other ventures. After The Basketball Diaries, during the 1970s, Carroll worked at odd jobs for Andy Warhol's Factory, watched the Velvet Underground at Max's Kansas City, and generally was in the presence of lots of famous people; these famous people and Carroll's experiences with them make up the core of Forced Entries. Describing a very hip downtown scene from the inside, Carroll provides a humorous, clear-sighted picture; for example, he says Warhol's Factory was "as boring as an empty bag" (FE 33).

As in The Basketball Diaries, so in Forced Entries Carroll struggles to hold on to his sense of self, always searching for purity. Heroin no longer frees him; it has now become a prison. The last part of Forced Entries describes Carroll's 1973 move to Bolinas, California, where he undergoes methadone treatments and successfully kicks his eight-year heroin habit. As he says in a later interview with Barbara Graustark, "Susan Sontag once told me that a junkie has a unique chance to rise up and start life over. But I want kids to know it's not hip to indulge yourself at the bottom unless you're planning on one helluva resurrection" (81).

While in Bolinas, Carroll met Rosemary Klemfuss, who would become his wife in 1978. "Rosemary was studying law at Stanford, where she was a deejay a the college station, and she dragged Jim to see the pioneering punk/new-wave bands" (Milward 14); with further encouragement from Patti Smith, Carroll became interested in rock music. One night Smith was performing in San Diego; when a dispute arose with the opening act, Carroll found himself on stage reading his poetry with Smith's band backing him up. Of his decision to become a rock musician Carroll says, "When I did the shows with Patti, I saw that it could be done. It was incredibly fun, and it was so intense and scary and beautiful at the same time . . . I think it's just a natural extension of my work, of the images," and, "Any poet, out of respect for his audience, should become a rock star" (Flippo 35). Carroll also cites Henry Miller as a prime influence:

Henry Miller's study of Rimbaud, which is really a study of Henry Miller, was the big factor for me going into rock--that was it. That whole thing about getting a heart quality out of work rather than just the intellectual quality. A good poet works on both. Miller spoke about the inner register and how a great poet has to affect virtual illiterates as well as affecting people through the intellect, and I figured many poets are just writing for other poets today. It's all intellectual concrete minimal poetry. (Flippo 35)

Carroll believes that "rock can strike at the intellect and at the heart, like a wind in your veins or a fist tightening under your chest" (Graustark 81).

The result of Carroll's venture into rock 'n' roll has been three albums, with Catholic Boy being one of the most critically acclaimed work of his career (interestingly, it seems Carroll has received the most recognition for his music, rather than his poetry or prose). One song on the album, "People Who Died," in which Carroll rattles off the names of several of his dead friends (many of whom are mentioned in The Basketball Diaries), became an underground sensation even before it was publicly released. Steven Simels writes, "'People Who Died' is simultaneously poignant (Carroll genuinely misses his departed comrades and is appalled by the waste involved) and oddly celebratory . . . it soon becomes apparent that he admires their 'romantic' exits . . ."

Carroll's excursion into rock music ended, at least temporarily, with I Write Your Name in 1984. However, a third volume of poetry, The Book of Nods (1986), marks yet another transformation in Carroll's career. It's "nods" are prose poems which combine elements of fiction, autobiography, and surrealism, to produce what Daniel Guillory calls "verbal equivalents of Dali's paintings." Carroll is currently working on his first fiction novel, among other projects.

Because Jim Carroll's biography and personality are so important to understanding his work, I have attempted in this bibliography to accurately portray both Carroll as he shows himself in his work and in interviews, as well as his critics' impressions of him. I researched widely, running into several dead-ends--one problem being an abundance of persons named Jim or James Carroll. <Note 2> I also had some trouble locating Carroll's numerous limited-edition, out-of-print, and other rare primary works; my interview with Carroll, and correspondence with people associated with him, were most helpful in this respect. The most fruitful tertiary sources were The Music Index,Index of American Periodical Verse, Book Review Index and Book Review Digest, Index to Book Reviews in the Humanities, Contemporary Literary Criticism, The Alternative Press Index, Access, Newsbank, and the Library of Congress On-Line Catalogue (OCLC). I cover both primary and secondary works, the latter being exclusively reviews, portraits, features, and interviews. I found no scholarly articles or foreign reviews on Carroll's work, and no previous bibliography. <Note 3>

This bibliography is divided into two main sections, each of which is broken down into sub-categories. The first section lists works by Carroll, including his books, selected readings, albums ("Albums by the Jim Carroll Band," "Spoken Word Albums," and "Other Albums" are listed separately), and films, spanning the years 1967 through 1987. Under primary works, books, albums, and films are arranged chronologically. Selected readings are listed under six separate categories: "Uncollected Works," "Anthologies," and works collected in Organic Trains, Living at the Movies, The Basketball Diaries, and The Book of Nods. Within each category works are arranged alphabetically, with the exception of "Works Collected in The Basketball Diaries": these are arranged chronologically, as most of the works under this heading have similar titles. My annotation of the selected readings is minimal. I have briefly described, whenever possible, selected readings in "Works collected in The Basketball Diaries," and have indicated some variants on the texts. Aside from providing descriptions of broadsides and other unusual items, I have not annotated any of the other selected readings.

My coverage of secondary works is selective and spans the years 1969 through 1988. I have attempted in my annotation to be non-evaluative, although I am a great fan of Carroll's. My intent is to accurately portray various critics' impressions of Jim Carroll, thus consistency in length of annotation was not a major concern. Generally the length of my annotation can be viewed as a guide to the thoroughness and value of a source. Secondary works are arranged under these headings: "Portraits, Features and Interviews," "Book Reviews," "Record Reviews," "Film Review," and "Performance Reviews." Works in the first and last categories are entered alphabetically by critic. Book and record reviews are arranged in separate alphabets under the works they review. Only one film review is listed.

My sincerest thanks go out to Dorothea Kehler at San Diego State University for her terrific support and encouragement from start to finish of this article, and to Rosemary Carroll and Karen Pals for putting up with my many letters and nearly-impossible questions. I'd also like to express my gratitude to the staff of the Mandeville Department of Special Collections at the University of California, San Diego; Janet Kraybill at Viking Penguin; Matthew Bailer at the William Morris Agency; Anne Corrigan at New World Video; and Joe Selby at BAM. Most of all, I want to thank Jim Carroll for being Jim Carroll.

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BOOKS BY CARROLL<Note 4>
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Carroll, Jim. Organic Trains. [New Jersey]: Penny Press, 1967.
Poetry--limited edition; 17 pages. Dedicated to Linda Cambi ("To you I offer my hull and the tattered / cordage of my will" --Frank O'Hara), this volume features the poems "The Ill Couples," "3 Seas," "Poem," "The Anarchists," "The Crucible of Dreams," "Poem of Arrivals," "11 Trains" (11 numbered "Trains"), and "On The Way." Eight of the "11 Trains" are dedicated as follows: "1st Train" (for D.C.), "2nd Train" (for Frank O'Hara), "3rd Train" for THE SUMMERS), "4th Train (for BLUES), "5th Train" (for L.C.), "6th Train" (for A. R.), "7th Train" (for POETRY), "9th Train" (for B. G. & J. H.). In my copy, Carroll has made corrections (in red ink, initialled and dated 1968) to "The Anarchists," adding the lines "days . . . / days . . ." to the end of the poem; in "On The Way," "about" is appended to the end of line 42, and line 43 is changed from "about imported bananas and soup and Rimbaud" to "amphetamines, Rail Road, soap and Rene Marcia Rilke."

---. 4 Ups and 1 Down. New York: Angel Hair Press, 1970.
Five poems in an eight-page, limited edition (300 copies) pamphlet. Includes "Blue Poles," "Love Rockets," "Styro," "Poem on My Son's Birthday," and "To a Poetess"; all of these are reprinted in Living at the Movies. The cover art is by Donna Dennis. There were 13 special copies, numbered 1-13, with a piece of hair and signatures of the author and artist.

---. Living at the Movies. New York: Grossman, 1973. New York: Penguin, 1981.
The back cover of the 100-page book states,

In these poems, all written before the age of twenty-two, Carroll shows an uncanny virtuosity. His power and poisoned purity of vision are reminiscent of Arthur Rimbaud, and, like the strongest poets of the New York School, Carroll transforms the everyday details of city life into poetry. In language at once delicate, hallucinatory, and menacing, his major themes--love, friendship, the exquisite pains and pleasures of drugs, and above all, the ever-present city--emerge in an atmosphere where dream and reality mingle on equal terms. . . .

The Grossman edition is dedicated "To Devereaux," and the cover features a painting by New York artist Larry Rivers (the Penguin paperback has neither the dedication nor the Rivers cover).

---. The Basketball Diaries. Bolinas, CA: Tombouctou, 1978; New York: Bantam, 1980. New York: Penguin, 1987. <Note 5>
Carroll wrote his autobiographical tales of "growing up hip [or stoned] on New York's mean streets" (informal subtitle) between the ages of 12 and 16, from 1963 to 1966. Carroll earned a scholarship to a posh Catholic school and spent his time playing basketball, stealing, hustling gay men to support his growing heroin addiction and, during time-outs, writing diaries. As Carroll says in one entry:

Now I got these diaries that have the greatest hero a writer needs, this crazy fucking New York. Soon I'm gonna wake a lot of dudes off their asses and let them know what's really going down in the blind alley out there in the pretty streets with double garages. I got a tap on all your wires, folks. I'm just really a wise ass kid getting wiser, and I'm going to get even for your dumb hatreds and all them war baby dreams you left in my scarred bed with dreams of bombs falling above that cliff I'm hanging steady to. Maybe someday just an eight-page book, that's all, and each time a page gets turned a section of the Pentagon goes blast up in smoke. Solid. (159-60)

The Tombouctou edition has the same photograph (by Rosemary Klemfuss/Carroll) on the front cover as the Penguin version, but in black and white; this edition also features illustrations from sculptures by Marc Blane, a four-page introduction by Tom Clark (titled "Rimbaud Rambles On: By Way of a Preface to The Diaries"), and an "author's note" by Carroll. The Bantam edition has a different cover photograph than the Penguin and Tombouctou editions; the back cover says Carroll's "prose is blacker than black leather, whiter than heroin, rainbow colored. Cuts like a razor. And twice as quick. Reading Carroll is a rare, unforgettable high."

---. The Book of Nods. New York: Penguin, 1986.
A 172-page book of verse and prose poetry, divided into four sections: "The Book of Nods," "New York City Variations," "California Variations," and "Poems 1973-1985." "Nods" refer to Carroll's drug-induced states and the poems which result from them. Of the other three sections, the book's back cover notes:

In 'New York City Variations,' 'California Variations,' and 'Poems 1973-1985' Carroll grapples with his familiar themes--love, survival, obsession, good and evil, the city as landscape, paradise and prison--in language of special beauty and imagery of often religious intensity.

---. Forced Entries: The Downtown Diaries: 1971-1973. New York: Penguin, 1987.
In the 1970s, after the great underground success of The Basketball Diaries, Carroll was "a young and rising star in the crazy and creative downtown scene in New York City" (back cover). Forced Entries covers a period when he was rubbing elbows with such figures as Andy Warhol, Larry Rivers, Robert Smithson, Allen Ginsberg, Bob Dylan, and the Velvet Underground, as well as the period of Carroll's retreat to California to break his heroin addiction. As Perry notes, "The title of "Forced Entries" suggests both the way the writer forced himself to enter, at least part way, into respectable society, and his feeling that he had to continue the story, both to vindicate himself of his past and to work through the restlessness of his youth" (E6). In the first entry, "A Birthday," Carroll writes:

The fact is, in many ways, I hadn't planned to make it to this age. I think of my past as if it were some exquisite antique knife . . . you can use it to defend yourself or slit your own throat, but you can't just keep it mounted on some wall. I can no longer allow the past, however, to interpret my future. Not dying young can be a dilemma. . . .

So, having lived, it seems only proper to begin keeping track again, to record the flux of each self, and weigh the shifting landscape of this city. . . If you haven't died by an age thought predetermined through the timing of your abuses and excesses, then what else is left but to begin another diary? (2) <Note

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SELECTED READINGS <Note 7>
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Uncollected Works

Berkson, Bill, and Jim Carroll. "Back Up Front (for Ted Berrigan)." ts. Library of Ted Berrigan, 1970.

A collaborative, one-page poem, signed and dated by the authors.

Berkson, Bill, Ted Berrigan, and Jim Carroll. "The Very Best (to George)." Telephone 2 (n.d.): 4.

Carroll, Jim. "Breakfast Poem." Big Sky 9 (1975): 28.

---. "Catholics On Dope." Little Caesar 4 (1977): 6.

---. "Chez Rivers." Transatlantic Review 55/56 (1976): 193.

---. "Christmas Lists." The World 9 (1967): 26.

---. "Cops." Yale Literary Magazine 138 (1969): 24-25.

---. "Dealers." Big Sky 9 (1975): 26.

---. "For Edmund Joseph Berrigan." Big Sky 9 (1975): 28.

---. "For John Wieners." Big Sky 9 (1975): 25.

---. "French Poem." The World 21 (1971): 11.

---. "From a Diary: August 8, 1965." Adventures in Poetry 2 (1968): 65-67.

---. "From the 'Book of Nods': School Days." The World 20 (1970) 65.

---. "I'm Living Inside Again." Big Sky 9 (1975): 27.

---. "Into the Sky . . . Now." The World 11 (1968): 39.

---. "Kitten (Self Pity)." Big Sky 9 (1975): 25.

---. "A Last Poem (for Cassandra)." The World 10 (1968): 19.

---. "Little Princes." The World 16 (1969): 19.

---. "The Marketplace." The World 8 (1967): 15.

---. "Methadone Maintenance Program--Mt. Sinai Hospital." The World 22 (1971): 24.

---. "Ode." The World 8 (1967): 15.

---. "My Pale Skin." Long Shot 2 (1983): 66.

---. "Poem for Clarice Rivers." The World 21 (1971): 10.

---. "Poem: To Ted Berrigan." The World 9 (1967): 26.

---. "Ten Things I Do When I Shoot Up." The World 18 (1970): 28. Rpt. in Waldman, Another World 185.

---. "Wingless." Big Sky 9 (1975): 29.

Ratcliff, Carter, Jim Carroll, and Peter Schjeldahl. "True Love: For e e cummings." Penumbra 8 (1970): 22-23.

Anthologies <Note 8 >

Waldman, Anne. Ed. Another World: A Second Anthology of Works from the St. Mark's Poetry Project. Ed. Anne Waldman. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1970. 182-87.
Includes "Vacation," "Living at the Movies," "Ten Things I Do When I Shoot Up," "The Blue Pill," and "The Scumbag Machine."

---. Ed. The World Anthology: Poems from the St. Mark's Poetry Project. Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill, 1969. 10-13.
Includes "Next Door," "The Distances," "The Loft," and "From the Basketball Diary: Feb. 4, 1965."

Works Collected in Organic Trains

Carroll, Jim. "Red Rabbit Running Backwards (for A. W.)." Stone Wind 4 [1973]: 113. Rpt. as "11th Train" in OT 13.

---. "6th Train (for A. R.)." Stone Wind 4 [1973]: 114. Rpt. in OT 10.

Works Collected in Living at the Movies

Carroll, Jim. "After St. John of the Cross." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 58. Rpt. in LM 61.

---. "The Answer." The World 21 (1971): 9. Rpt., revised, as "Sure . . ." in LM 58.

---. "An Apple at Dawn." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 61. Rpt. in LM 100.

---. "August." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 59. Rpt. in LM 5.

---. "The Birth and Death of the Sun." Paris Review 12.48 (1969): 36. Rpt. in LM 94.

---. "Birthday Poem." The World 12 (1968): 4-5. Rpt. in Waldman, The World Anthology 15-17; LM 22-23.

---. "Blood Bridge." The World 19 (1970): 25. Rpt. in LM 34.

---. "Blood Bridge." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 57. Rpt. in LM 34.

---. "The Blue Pill." The World 16 (1969): 19. Rpt. in Waldman, Another World 186; revised in LM 33.

---. "The Burning of Bustins Island." Angel Hair 6 (1969): 51. Rpt. in LM 15.

---. "Chelsea May." Chicago 6 (1973): 50. Rpt. in LM 96.

---. "Chop Chop." The World 21 (1971): 9-10. Rpt. in LM 64.

---. "Chop Chop." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 58. Rpt. in LM 64.

---. "Cold Faces." The World 21 (1971): 9. Rpt. in LM 51.

---. "Crossed Wires." The World 19 (1970): 25. Rpt. in LM 36.

---. "The Distances." The World 11 (1968): 40. Rpt. in LM 2-3.

---. "The Distances." Poetry 114 (1969): 31-33. Rpt. in Waldman, The World Anthology 11-13; revised in LM 2-3.

---. "For Sue's Birthday." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 54-61. Rpt. in LM 80-81.

---. "Fragment: Little NY Ode." The World 25 (1973): 5. Rpt. in LM 28.

---. "Gliding." Chicago 6 (1973): 48. Rpt. in LM 43.

---. "Gliding." The World 26 (1973): 5. Rpt. in LM 43.

---. "Heroin." Paris Review 12.48 (1969): 34-35. Rpt., revised, in LM 19-20.

---. "Heroin." Yale Literary Magazine 138 (1969): 23-24. Rpt., revised, in LM 19-20.

---. "In This Room Particularly." The World 26 (1973): 3. Rpt. in LM 85.

---. "It Doesn't Matter." Chicago 6 (1973): 50. Rpt. in LM 95.

---. "Invisible Sleep." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 59. Rpt. in LM 56-57.

---. "Jet Fizzle." The World 17 (1969): 20. Rpt. in LM 53.

---. "Little Ode on St. Anne's Day." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 56. Rpt. in LM 63.

---. "Leaving N.Y.C." The World 21 (1971): 11. Rpt. in LM 37.

---. "Living at the Movies (for Ted Berrigan)." The World 14 (1968): 30. Rpt. in Waldman, Another World 183-85; LM 25-26.

---. "The Loft." The World 8 (1967): 15. Rpt. in Waldman, The World Anthology 13; LM 13.

---. "Love Poem (Later)." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 55. Rpt. in LM 69.

---. "Love Rockets." The World 11 (1968): 39. Rpt. in LM 10.

---. "Love Story." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 55. Rpt. in LM 84.

---. "Mercury Clouds." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 57. Rpt. in LM 75.

---. "Midnight." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 56. Rpt. in LM 77.

---. "Morning." Chicago 6 (1973): 52. Rpt. in LM 8-9.

---. "New Year 1970." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 60. Rpt. in LM 76.

---. "Next Door." The World 10 (1968): 19. Rpt. in Waldman, The World Anthology 10-11; LM 10.

---. "On the Rush." Chicago 6 (1973): 48. Rpt. in LM 91.

---. "One Flight Up." The World 26 (1973): 4. Rpt. in LM 30.

---. "The Other Garden." The World 9 (1967): 27. Rpt. in LM 17-18.

---. "Poem." The World 26 (1973): 4. Rpt. in LM 83.

---. "Poem (for Linda Canby [sic])." <Note 9 >   Paris Review 11.43 (1968): 58. Rpt. as "Blue Poles" in LM 1; 4 Ups and 1 Down 1.
       There are some changes in punctuation and capitalization.

---. "Prell." Paris Review 13.50 (1970): 16. Rpt. in LM 78.

---. "Sea Battle." Chicago 6 (1973): 49. Rpt. in LM 54.

---. "Sea Battle." The World 26 (1973): 3-5. Rpt. in LM 54.

---. "Seltzer." Angel Hair 6 (1969): 50. Rpt. in LM 24.

---. "A Short Reminder." Chicago 6 (1973): 51. Rpt. in LM 41-42.

---. "Silver Mirror." Yale Literary Magazine 138(1969): 24. Rpt., revised, as "Silver Mirrors" in LM 65.

---. "Silver Mirrors." Chicago 6 (1973): 49. Rpt. in LM 65.

---. "To the Secret Poets of Kansas." The World 21 (1971): 10. Rpt. in LM 52.

---. "Torn Canvas." The World 21 (1971): 11. Rpt. in LM 93.

---. "Traffic." Paris Review 12.45 (1968): 141. Rpt. in LM 6.

---. "Vacation." The World 13 (1968): 21. Rpt. in Waldman, Another World 182-83; LM 39-40.

---. "Withdrawal Letter." The World 21 (1971): 12. Rpt. in LM 71-72.

---. "Words from Babylon." The World 21 (1971): 9. Rpt. in LM 92.

---. "Words from Babylon." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 56. Rpt. in LM 92.

---. "Your Daughter." Chicago 2.3-4 (1972): 57. Rpt. in LM 27.

Works Collected in The Basketball Diaries

Carroll, Jim. "From a Diary." Adventures in Poetry 2 (1968): 65-67. Rpt. in BD 3-4, 27, 54-56.
Five entries: November 6, 1962 ("Today was my first Biddy League game . . ."); January 26, 1963 (the memorial service for Teddy Rayhill); August 6, 1965 ("Willie Coll and I arrived in the Long Beach station . . ."); August 7, 1965 (the Celia sisters); and August 8, 1965 ("Today was the big game against Orlando's Furniture . . ."). The last entry is not collected.

---. "From the Basketball Diary." The World 11 (1968): 41. Rpt. in Waldman, The World Anthology 13-15; and as "Winter 66" in BD 153-55.
Two entries, dated Feb. 4, 1965 ("We just got into town for the very spectacular National High School All Star Basketball Game."), and Feb. 5, 1965 ("After a very poor breakfast Joe Slapstick calls Corky and I aside . . ."). The two World versions are identical, but Carroll changed the names of characters for the later publication of his book. For example, Benny Greenbaum, the homosexual coach from a well known Midwestern University in The Basketball Diaries is in this printing Mike Tittleberger from Marquette. Also, in The Basketball Diaries, Corky Ball became "Bax Porter"; Luther Green, "Sammy Fulton"; and Dean Meminger, "Ben Davis."

---. "From the Basketball Diary: Winter, 1965." Culture Hero 1.5 (1969): 9-10. Rpt. in The World 11 (1968): 41; Waldman, The World Anthology 13-15, and BD 153-54.
One entry ("We just got into town. . ."); included in Ted Berrigan's article (see "Portraits, Features, and Interviews"). With the exception of numerous typographical errors, this printing is identical to the two World versions above.

---. "The Scumbag Machine (from the Basketball Diary)." The World 15 (1969): [55]. Rpt. in Waldman, Another World 186-187. Rpt., revised, in BD 155-157.
The entry begins, "Coming back from the Washington trip today, we stopped at a gas station in Benny's car and Yogi went behind the place to use the bathroom."

---. "The Basketball Diaries [Excerpts]." Paris Review 13.50 (1970): 94-114. Rpt. in BD 4-6, 47-50, 65-67, 93-94, 80-86, 153-57, 138-39, 194-96, 174-75, 209-10.
In this version, numbers are not written out and abbreviations are retained. There are numerous differences in phrasing as compared to The Basketball Diaries, and the book's final sentence, "I just want to be pure . . ." is not included here. Several names are different: Benny Greenbaum in The Basketball Diaries is here "Benny Greenleaf," Bax is "Corky," Sammy Fulton is "Lex Lincoln," and Ben Davis is "Dean Marmelade." The diary entries are dated differently here than in the book.

---. "From The Basketball Diaries: August 17, 1965." The Ant's Forefoot 8 (1971): 60-61. Rpt. in BD 57-61.
In the book, this diary appears under "Summer 64"; it is the "Winkie and Blinkie" entry.

---. "From the Basketball Diaries: Winter 1966." Big Sky 8 (1974): 100-1. Rpt. in Little Caesar 3 (1977): 12-13; and BD 167-69; 171-72.
Three entries: "I have an older woman that I see now very often on the weekends . . .," "I saw my old lady lover tonight . . .," and "I told the old lady I been making it with lately that I was packing her in."

Works Collected in The Book of Nods

Carroll, Jim. "The Bees." Big Sky 8 (1974): 26. Rpt., revised, as "Quality" in BN 19.

---. "A Night Outing" (for James Schuyler). Transatlantic Review 55/56 (1976): 192. Rpt., revised, in BN 121.

---. "From NYC Variations." Broadside. Yanagi Broadside Series. Berkeley, CA: West Coast Print Center, 1977. Rpt. in BN 82.
An edition of 300 numbered sets, edited by Louis Patler and Bill Barrett, and designed by Marc Blane and Louis Patler. The broadside is printed in red ink on grey paper, and is illustrated with a photo of Marc Blane's sculptured red clay images (which also illustrate the Tombouctou edition of The Basketball Diaries).

---. "Poem." Long Shot 2 (1983): 66. Rpt. as "Poem (for Frank O'Hara)" in BN 115.

---. "A Poet Dies." Broadside. Walker Art Center Reading Series 1980-1981. St. Paul, Minn.: Toothpaste Press [for Bookslinger], 1980. Rpt. in BN 6-7.
A limited edition in 20 broadsides; 85 numbered and signed copies.

---. "A Poet Dies." Long Shot 2 (1983): 64-65. Rpt. in BN 6-7.

---. "From 'Scenes in the Life of Jean Arthur': Rimbaud Running Guns, for Patti Smith." Little Caesar 3 (1977): 4. Rpt. in "Rimbaud Scenes" from BN 34-35.

---. "A Section from 'The Variations.'" Little Caesar 4 (1977): 20. Rpt. untitled in BN 91.

---. "Variations for Waking." Little Caesar 3 (1977): 26-27. Rpt., untitled and revised, in BN 109-10.MacAdams, Lewis Jr., and Jim Carroll. "Cheered and Greeted" and "A Window in Cherry Valley." New York: Adventures in Poetry, 1973. "A Window in Cherry Valley" Rpt., revised, in BN 143.
Two non-collaborative poems in two leaves, with a cover illustrated by George Schneeman. "A Window in Cherry Valley" is Carroll's work.

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ALBUMS
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Albums by The Jim Carroll Band

The Jim Carroll Band. Catholic Boy. Atco-Atlantic, SD 38-132, 1980.
Songs include "Wicked Gravity," "Three Sisters," "Day and Night," "Nothing is True," "City Drops Into the Night," "Crow," "It's Too Late," "I Want the Angel," and "Catholic Boy"; one song in particular, "People Who Died," has been the focus of many critics:

Teddy, sniffing glue, he was 12 years old.
He fell from the roof on East two nine.
Cathy was 11 when she pulled the plug
On 26 reds and a bottle of wine.
Bobby got leukemia, 14 years old.
He looked like 65 when he died.
He was a friend of mine.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Band members are: Brian Linsley on guitar, Steve Linsley on Bass, Terrell Winn on guitar, Wayne Woods on drums, and Jim Carroll on vocals. Allen Lanier plays keyboards on "Day and Night" and "I Want the Angel"; Bobby Keys plays saxophone on "City Drops Into the Night." The album was produced by Earl McGrath.

---. Dry Dreams. Atco-Atlantic, SD 38-145, 1982.
Out of print. Songs include "Work Not Play," "Dry Dreams," "Them," "Jealous Twin," "Lorraine," "Jody," "Barricades," "Evangeline," "Rooms," and "Still Life." All lyrics are printed on the inner record sleeve. Band members are Jim Carroll on vocals, Wayne Woods on Drums, Steve Linsley on Bass, Paul Sanchez on guitar, Jon Tiven on Guitar and organ, Tom Canning on piano, Walter Steding on violin, Sammy Figueroa on percussion, Alan Lanier on synthesizer, Randy Brecker on trumpet (arranged by Cengiz Yaltkaya), and Lenny Kaye plays guitar on "Still Life." The album was produced by Earl McGrath.

---. I Write Your Name. Atlantic, 7 80123-1, 1984.
Out of print. "Dedicated to the memories of Ted Berrigan (1934-1983) and Brian Marnell (1954-1983)" (album cover note). Songs include "Love Crimes," "(No More) Luxuries," "Voices," a version of Lou Reed's "Sweet Jane," "Hold Back the Dream," "Freddy's Store," "Black Romance," "I Write Your Name," "Low Rider," and "Dance the Night Away." Band members are Lenny Kaye on guitar, Steve Linsley on bass, Jim Carroll on vocals, Paul Sanchez on guitar, Wayne Woods on drums, Brian Marnell on guitar, Kinny Landrum on keyboards, Will Lee on additional bass, and Michael Caravello on congas and percussion. Features Anne Waldman (among others) on backup vocals. The album was produced by Earl McGrath.

Spoken Word Albums <Note 10 >

The Dial-a-Poem Poets. The Dial-a-Poem Poets. Giorno Poetry Systems, GPS 001, 1972.
A double album (108 minutes) featuring 30 spoken-word selections. Carroll reads from The Basketball Diaries (a portion of 157-59; and "The Celia Sisters," 55-56). Carroll dates the first entry as 1962 (it is 1966 in the book), and the second entry as August 7, 1965 (it is Summer 1964 in the book). Also, Carroll's reading style here is remarkably different than his present style. Other artists appearing on the album are Allen Ginsberg, Diane Di Prima, William S. Burroughs, Anne Waldman, John Giorno, Emmet Williams, Ed Sanders, Taylor Mead, Robert Creeley, Harris Schiff, Lenore Kandel, Aram Saroyan, Philip Whalen, Ted Berrigan, Frank O'Hara, Joe Brainard, Clark Coolidge, John Cage, Bernadette Mayer, Michael Brownstein, Brion Gysin, John Sinclair, Heathcote Williams, David Henderson, Bobby Seale, and Kathleen Cleaver.

---. Disconnected. Giorno Poetry Systems, GPS 003, 1974.
(Two sound discs, 119 minutes). Carroll reads "From The Basketball Diaries, Age 13, Spring 1965" (BD 187-89); the piece was recorded on April 25, 1973. Also appearing on the album are Charles Amirkhanian, John Ashbery, Imamu Amiri Baraka, Bill Berkson, Paul Blackburn, Joe Brainard, Michael Brownstein, William S. Burroughs, John Cage, Tom Clark, Clark Coolidge, Gregory Corso, Robert Creeley, Diane Di Prima, Ed Dorn, Larry Fagin, Allen Ginsberg, John Giorno, Frank Lima, Michael McClure, Gerard Malanga, Bernadette Mayer, Frank O'Hara, Charles Olson, Peter Orlovsky, Maureen Own, Ron Padgett, John Perreault, Charles Plymall, Ed Sanders, Jack Spicer, Lorenzo Thomas, Chogyam Trungpa Rimpoche, Diane Wakoski, Anne Waldman, Philip Whalen, and John Wieners.

---. Life is a Killer. Giorno Poetry Systems, GPS 027, 1982.
A note on the album jacket says, "The cuts recorded in Toronto are from the film Poetry in Motion by Ron Mann. This album was produced in part from funds from The New York State Council on the Arts." Most of the pieces (not including Carroll's) are accompanied by music (instrumental ensemble or synthesized sound). Carroll's reading of "Just Visiting," from The Book of Nods (63-65), is from Poetry in Motion; on this album Carroll reads the entire piece. Other performers include Amiri Baraka ("Wailers"), Brion Gysin ("Junk"), William S. Burroughs ("The Mummy Piece"), Rose Lesniak ("She's So"), Ned Sublette ("Cowboys Are Frequently Secretly"), Jayne Cortez ("I See Chano Pozo"), Four Horsemen ("The Dreams Remain"), and John Giorno ("Everyone Says What They Do is Right").

---. You're a Hook: The 15 Year Anniversary of Dial-a-Poem. Giorno Poetry Systems, GPS 030, 1983.
Music and Spoken word. Carroll reads from The Basketball Diaries; the pieces were recorded on March 30, 1969, and are the same reading as on The Dial-a-Poem Poets above (a portion of 157-59; and "The Celia Sisters," 55-56). Appearing on the album with Carroll are John Giorno ("[Last Night] I Gambled with My Anger and Lost"), William S. Burroughs ("Old Man Bickford"), Laurie Anderson ("Song from America on the Move"), Philip Glass ("A Secret Solo"), Lenny Kaye ("No Jestering"), Patti Smith ("7 Ways of Going"), Frank Zappa ("The Talking Asshole"), and Allen Ginsberg ("Father Death Blues").

---. Better an Old Demon than a New God. Giorno Poetry Systems, [catalogue number not available], 1984.
Spoken word. Carroll reads "A Peculiar Looking Girl" from Forced Entries (46-49). Also appearing on the album are David Johansen ("Imagination Cocktail"), John Giorno ("Exiled in Domestic Life"), William S. Burroughs ("Dinosaurs"), Psychic TV ("Unclean"), Lydia Lunch ("What It Is"), Meredith Monk ("Candy Bullets and Moon"), Anne Waldman ("Uh-Oh Plutonium"), Richard Hell ("The Rev. Hell Gets Confused"), and Arto Lindsay ("Alisa").

Other Albums

Various Artists. Tuff Turf. Movie soundtrack. Rhino, RNSP 308, 1985.
The Jim Carroll Band performs "People Who Died," "Voices," and "It's Too Late." Also appearing on the soundtrack are Southside Johnny ("Tuff Turf"), Jack Mack and the Heart Attack ("Green Onions," "So Tuff," and "She's Looking Good"), Lene Lovich ("Breakin' The Rules [What Do You Do When Opposites Attract?"]), Marianne Faithful ("Love Hates"), and Dale Gonyea with J. R. & The Z-Men ("Twist and Shout").

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FILMS <Note 11 >
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Poetry In Motion. Videocassette. Prod. Sphinx Productions, in assoc. with Giorno Poetry Systems. Dir. Ron Mann. Voyager Press, 1983. 90 min.
Carroll reads a portion of "Just Visiting," from The Book of Nods (63-65). Early in the video, he also comments on the nature of poetry:

You don't want to lead anybody in any subjective sense, or push anything onto them, you know. I mean you can say you teach in a certain way, but it's like, just, you know, puttin' the light in peoples' eyes, you know. That it's just like opening the door but not showing them around and telling them, "This is the chair, this is the table," you know, but just saying, "Here, here's the room," and turning on the light.

The video also features performances and commentary by Charles Bukowski, Amiri Baraka (with David Murray on saxophone and Steve McCall on drums), Anne Waldman, Ted Berrigan, Kenward Elmslie, Helen Adam, Tom Waits, William S. Burroughs, Christopher Dewdney, Michael McClure, Ted Miton, Robert Creeley, John Cage, Four Horsemen (b. p. Nichol, Rafael Barreto-Riveis, Paul Dutton, Steve McCaffery), Michael Ondaatje, Jayne Cortez (with Bern Nix on guitar, Jamaaladeen Tacuma on bass, and Denardo Coleman on drums), Diane Di Prima (with Peter Hartman on piano, and Sheppard T. Powell on slides), John Giorno, Ntozake Shange (with Hank Johnson on piano, and dancers Fred Gary and Bernedene Jennings), Gary Snider, Allen Ginsberg (with The Ceedes: Curtis Driedger on guitar, Doug Cameron on bass, Ben Cleveland-Hayes on drums), and Miguel Algarin.

Listen to the City. Prod. Sphinx Productions. Dir. Ron Mann. Spectrafilm, 1984. 90 min. <Note 12 >
A self-described 'political fable' that combines elements of Godard, Marvel comics, Orwell, rock video and King Vidor's Our Daily Bread, Listen to the City takes the form (but thankfully not the tone) of an academic argument: it addresses a particular problem [unemployment in Canada] and posits a possible strategy for solution. (Pevere 23)

Carroll appears in the film's first sequence as "an apparently bedeviled hospital inmate . . . taking to the street armed with sunglasses, an intravenous stand and a steady stream of prophetic platitudes . . . ." and in the final scenes, performing a song in a tavern (Pevere 23). Presumably, he reappears throughout the film.

Tuff Turf. Videocassette. Dir. Fritz Kiersch. New World, 1985. 113 min.
A typical high-school adventure-love story, the film stars James Spader, Kim Richards, and Paul Mones. Carroll appears briefly, as himself, in a dance club scene in which he performs (lip syncing and playing air guitar) "Voices" and "It's Too Late"; he has one speaking part between songs. "People Who Died" serves as background music during a car scene.

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PORTRAITS, FEATURES, AND INTERVIEWS <Note 13 >
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Berrigan, Ted. "Jim Carroll." Culture Hero 1.5 (1969): 9-10.
Berrigan's enamored portrait of Carroll, though a bit difficult to follow (the author alternately comments upon Carroll, quotes Carroll, and quotes comments by Anne Waldman and Bill Berkson about Carroll--without indicating which is which), provides unique information about Carroll's beginnings as a writer. Describing Carroll as "beautiful . . . . He's 20 years old, stands 6'3", and has a body like Nureyev (or would have were Nureyev Clint Eastwood)," Berrigan recounts a number of experiences with Carroll, including their first meeting:

Jim Carroll first appeared in my life as a huge white paw hung purposefully from the near end of a long brown corduroy arm. It was late one Wednesday evening, in front of Gem's Spa, the corner at 2nd Avenue & St. Mark's Place, in the Spring of 1967. A slight grey rectangle blocked my further view. I stopped short, although none of this is the least bit unusual at Gem's Spa. But the giant who materialized behind the hand certainly was unusual. It seemed to be saying, Pay attention, and I did so. "I'm Jim Carroll," the giant said and became a very interesting person. "I've just had this book of poems published, and [I'd] like to give you a copy to read." "I'd love to read it," I said. (That's what I always say.) So, I took the small pamphlet of Jim Carroll's poems home to read.

Carroll had written a note in the book saying, "Please reply, I'd like to show you more . . . Fuck the spelling in this book--it was printed in New Jersey." Berrigan describes Organic Trains as "a tremendous experience. . . . I've never seen anything like it. I can say Rimbaud, but that doesn't bring in how American Jim Carroll is, and a critic might, and probably would say, O'Hara; but Frank O'Hara never wrote anywhere near this well until well into his 20's." The author is impressed with Carroll's finesse in basketball and baseball; cited here is a report in the Rhinelander Newspaper (March 13, 1970) praising Carroll's basketball prowess, and describing the audience's surprise when Carroll "took his beret off, and long sweaty flaming red hair fell to his shoulders." Berrigan includes an anecdote in which he asks how Carroll got into poetry. Carroll replies,

Well, by the time I got to Trinity the straight Jock trip had begun to wear a little thin. . . I still had as much charge, but I simply began getting off into new directions, like pills, sex, drugs, booze and The New American Poetry. I had been keeping my basketball diaries since I was 12, and so when I got turned on to poetry at Trinity, writing it just came naturally. I read Howl first, I guess. Then Frank.

Berrigan closes by mentioning Carroll's publications in The World, Paris Review, and the upcoming Living at the Movies and Basketball Diaries. The article culminates with an excerpt from The Basketball Diaries.

Borden, Jeff. "Jim Carroll: Pain Paved Way to Better Life for Rocker." Columbus (Ohio) Evening Dispatch 11 Feb. 1981. Newsbank, Performing Arts Index, 1980-81, fiche 101, grid F4.
Previewing an upcoming concert at the Agora Ballroom, Borden maintains that "There's no reason to doubt the veracity of Jim Carroll's lyrics when he sings of drug abuse, addiction, death on the streets and, ultimately, redemption." The reviewer recounts Carroll's adolescent adventures with drugs, and mentions the positive reception of The Basketball Diaries, Living at the Movies, and Catholic Boy. In what appears to be an interview, Carroll says of his success, "It doesn't really matter, though . . . I'd be satisfied with cult status. It's like with The Basketball Diaries. I wasn't into that for what I could get out of it. And that thought carries on with the music." Borden notes the influence of Carroll's Catholic background, "an upbringing he termed harsh but helpful." Carroll explains: "A poet is always a religious person, but non-denominational. I'm real concerned about creating images and I'm just using the images about Catholic school which I don't like." Carroll discredits people who "use God to get a 24-hour buzz and are redeemed through joy. My faith is different from born-again Christians. I was redeemed through pain. It's like when you pray for three months for someone who has leukemia and that person still dies." Borden mentions Carroll's move from New York, his successful battle against heroin addiction, and his entry into rock music; Carroll comments that he went into rock because "I didn't want to write for other poets, but for the heart. The rock lyrics do that for me." Borden notes that Carroll "still considers himself a poet, but begs his listeners not to look for messages in his works." Says Carroll, "The message is that there isn't a message. . . All I do is turn on the light or open the door. They have to walk through it on their own."

Cain, Scott. "Rock Star Poet Jim Carroll Comes to Atlanta." Atlanta (Ga.) Journal 13 March 1981. Newsbank, Performing Arts Index, 1980-81, fiche 123, grid E10.
Cain previews an upcoming concert by the Jim Carroll Band (at the rock club 688), stating that "Jim Carroll is not a run-of-the-mill rock star, although he has enough credentials to give a fundamentalist preacher enough material for a hundred sermons." Cain calls Carroll's adolescence "the kind of life most people consider horrifying," but notes, "Carroll turned his ordeals into literature." Cain indicates that "When he gave poetry readings in his younger days, people told him he had the aura of a rock star," and describes Carroll's first (accidental) rock performance in San Diego. Discussing The Basketball Diaries, Cain mentions that "Several moviemakers have been bidding for the rights . . . and Carroll has narrowed the selection to two. There's a good possibility he will write music for the film." Referred to also is Carroll's heroin addiction ("His acceptance in artistic circles--he appeared in two Andy Warhol movies and was influenced musically by Lou Reed--did nothing to help him get away from heroin . . . .) and the upcoming Forced Entries. Cain describes Carroll's move to Bolinas and marriage to Rosemary, and the couple's return to New York; the article closes with a discussion of Carroll's low-key lifestyle in New York. Says Carroll regarding a possible move to San Francisco or Boston, "My whole history is in New York . . . . Now I want to get away from it for the same reason that I wanted to move back. I'm referring to my street roots too often. There are too many flashes of things I did as a kid which are not too pleasant to me now."

Caruso, Joyce. "Rock, Poetry, and 'Kid Energy': Jim Carroll." Elle March 1988: 98-100.
"That Jim Carroll, basketball star at 13 and published poet at 17, was reading some of his best new verse on MTV a few months ago is one terrific clue as to what keeps this 35-year-old romantic antihero going." Caruso notes that Carroll was immediately cast as the "new Rimbaud: like that 19th-century legend, Carroll wrote prophetic, hallucinatory poems, lived a decadent life, and achieved fame shortly after puberty." The article is primarily a biographical portrait of Carroll, from his beginnings in the "asphalt jungle of N.Y.C.," to his basketball scholarship to Trinity, his associations with "the Patti Smith, Allen Ginsberg, and the Warhol set," and his later adventures as a new-wave rock star. Caruso discusses Carroll's recent projects--an album in the works with Ray Manzarek (the Doors), an upcoming film adaptation of The Basketball Diaries, and The Book of Nods--and goes into some detail describing Carroll's past work: The Basketball Diaries (Caruso says to "Consider it the older and none-too-wiser brother of Bright Lights, Big City and Less than Zero."), Living at the Movies, and Catholic Boy. Caruso states that "Carroll's rock lyrics and poetry are joined at the hip: Their concerns are the power of sex, drugs, love, death and redemption, and their delivery is for the most part a terse, razor-sharp street rap peppered with sudden rushes of feeling." Caruso also notes that "performing live in front of a stadium of shrieking groupies made one hell of a better poetry-reader out of the once-chronically shy Jim Carroll."

Damsker, Matt. "Carroll: From Poet to Rock 'n' Roller." (Philadelphia, Penn.) Evening Bulletin 17 Dec. 1980. Newsbank, Performing Arts Index, 1980-81, fiche 101, grid F5.
Damsker previews an upcoming Jim Carroll Band concert at Philadelphia's Bijou Cafe. The article appeared nine days after John Lennon's assassination, and Damsker suggests that "John Lennon's death has only begun to filter into the mythology of rock 'n' roll, but already there's a rock anthem that can stand with the best of instant epitaphs for the slain ex-Beatle. It's called 'People Who Died' . . ." In the first part of a telephone interview, Carroll comments,

I understand that the day after Lennon died that song was the most requested thing at a lot of radio stations. . . . The thing is people have been puttin' down the song for glorifyin' death, but it really celebrates lives. It's about people who got cut off without fulfillin' their potential.

I mean, just when John was comin' out with Yoko again, with a new love song that had the same kind of feeling as "I Want to Hold Your Hand," he's snuffed out. Lennon's death emphasizes that everything can end just like that, so quickly. . .

. . . Here's this guy with a gun comin' from Hawaii, and look what he does. It's bad for New York, and it threw me into a depression. I thought I'd be more immune to something like that.

In the remainder of the interview Carroll expresses his opinions about rock music in general. For example, he says, "Punk did a lot to kick rock in the butt, but there was that negative side to it. . . Now I think there's more of a need for poets to clarify things. Before, there just wasn't the sort of despair and decay we're feeling now in America. . . ." In his commentary, Damsker focuses primarily on Carroll's commitment to "the rock 'n' roll life," describing Carroll's personal and literary background to show "Carroll's odyssey certainly qualifies him for the rock-prophet status he seems to be attaining."

Fissinger, Laura. "The Transformation of Jim Carroll." Musician, Player and Listener Feb. 1981: 16+.
In her portrait, Fissinger looks at Carroll as an unwilling martyr-in-the-making, citing models of such "sacrificial lambs" as Jim Morrison and Iggy Pop. Fissinger suggests that

The art and the things the artist becomes receptacle for get too tangled up to judge separately anymore. The value of the art becomes obscured, a matter of doubt--frequently before the martyr makes the final exit, and almost always afterward. The problem for those preparing the stake is that Carroll's demons seem to be at bay right now. Worse, as he rides them to fame he's also doing what he can to keep them there.

Fissinger draws upon Catholic Boy and The Basketball Diaries to make her case; the article also features what appears to be an interview with Carroll, in which he initially discusses Henry Miller's concept of the "inner register," and the role of poetry and rock lyrics in contemporary America. Fissinger describes the influential role of teachers at Trinity upon Carroll, Carroll's position as sports writer on the school paper, the "inspiration and support" he received through the St. Mark's Poetry Project, and Ted Berrigan's taking him to visit Jack Kerouac. The article goes on to recount Carroll's subsequent success as a writer, his attempts to conquer his heroin addiction, and his flight to California--where, Carroll says, "the drug programs actually encourage you to get off." Fissinger also mentions Carroll's meeting future wife Rosemary, who "took him to see the front lines of the new wave in San Francisco clubs." Carroll details his transition into rock, the formation of the Jim Carroll Band, their rising fame among bay area audiences, and his eventually finding Earl McGrath to produce Catholic Boy. Fissinger breaks in to say, "It's at this point in the script that the stage directions call for whispering noises and pointing from the crowd," noting that "People Who Died" "started to get heavy play on a surprising number of stations, and the journalists began to line up," even before the release of Catholic Boy. Fissinger notes, "what copy he made: he looked like a ghost, like he'd been dipped in white wax. He seemed hidden, distant, and as vulnerable as a child. He was bright. He chain smoked, pulled at his pale red hair, couldn't sit still. He talked non-stop, in metaphors and street slang and guileless gestures, about anything they wanted to know. Almost." Carroll explains, "It's gotten to the point where I don't talk about drugs anymore generally, you know? And it's all so boring now, besides. . . . you can't avoid it because it's part of my history, and the Diaries have a lot to do with it. . . But I don't want to dwell on it anymore. . ." The article concludes with Carroll marking his surprise at exceeding the "cult" status he had expected: "See, the record's starting to do past what anyone anticipated. All the attention feels strange. But I feel like the album backs up any kind of hype." Fissinger agrees, but remains unable to finally answer the question she asks throughout the article: can Catholic Boy "be considered apart from the hype and the doom freaks"?

Flippo, Chet. "A Star is Borning." New York 26 Jan. 1981: 32-35.
Flippo describes Carroll's guest-appearance on the Tomorrow Show with Tom Snyder, calling Carroll a "sort of singing poet, a street kid alive with the rhythms of the city." But another observer in the article, a skeptical psychic named "Lola from Budapest," emphasizes Flippo's mixed views of Carroll; obviously Flippo is impressed with Carroll's success, lifestyle, and personality, but perhaps isn't quite sure what to make of him. Flippo mentions the excitement surrounding the republication of The Basketball Diaries, the success of Catholic Boy ("an underground sensation"), and Carroll's debut at Trax in New York (July 1980), deciding that "Carroll the poet is a far subtler and sharper persona than Carroll the rock lyricist . . ." But, for the most part, Flippo focuses on conversations with Carroll before and after the Tomorrow Show, and Carroll's performance in-between. When Carroll joins his band to sing "Wicked Gravity," Flippo does not seem impressed with the performance: "The music, loose and raucous, had a commitment to the rock 'n' roll tradition of exuberance and rebellion; the words were biting and cold and totally impersonal, as detached as a commuter who is late for the 6:23 and finds his path blocked by a blathering Moonie." Lola from Budapest is also disturbed by the performance: "He has no emotions. He is schizophrenic. Maybe drug addict. Maybe homosexual." The second half of the article is by far the most interesting: Flippo's interview with Carroll after the show. Here, Carroll discusses his experiences working as assistant for artist Larry Rivers, his great admiration for Frank O'Hara (whom he followed around for a day), and the reasons for his escape to California. Carroll then explains how he came to rock 'n' roll, discussing his first performance as opening act for Patti Smith in San Diego, and also the influence of Henry Miller's study of Rimbaud.

Graustark, Barbara. "Mean Streets." Newsweek 8 Sep. 1980: 80-81.
"Not since Lou Reed wrote "Walk on the Wild Side" has a rock singer so vividly evoked the casual brutality of New York City as has Jim Carroll, a 29-year-old poet-turned-rocker." Graustark discusses Carroll's success as an up-and-coming rock star, particularly with the song "People who Died," then goes on to describe Carroll's background under the categories of "Basketball" and "Habit." "Basketball" begins with Carroll's boyhood on "New York's meaner streets," where he "sampled speed, codeine cough syrup, LSD and cocaine while still in grade school," shot heroin, and played basketball with Lew Alcindor ("whom he claims to have taught the sky hook"). Also briefly described here are The Basketball Diaries, of which Graustark says Carroll's "terse wit, with its archly contrived naivete, transformed a tale of teen-age rebellion into a contemporary classic," and Carroll's supposed nomination for the Pulitzer Prize for Living at the Movies. "Habit" begins, "But he grew tired of the poetry scene--'You don't get rich writing poetry'--and of his arty friends' romantic obsession with his heroin addiction," and describes Carroll's 1974 move to California when he "kicked" his eight-year habit. Here Graustark talks about Carroll's metamorphosis into a rocker, Patti Smith's influence on him, and says Catholic Boy is "Filled with imagery that is spiritual, sexual and violent"; though, like Lou Reed and Patti Smith, Carroll "isn't much of a singer," his songs "have a raw power." Graustark especially praises "When the City Drops (Into the Night)" and "Catholic Boy." The article ends saying that "To some, his songs will sounds like glorifications of the decadent, and indeed Carroll is carrying on the beat tradition of celebrating lives lived on the edge."

Hirshberg, Lynn. [Cover Story/Interview]. BAM 15 Aug. 1980: N. pag..

Infusino, Divina. "A Catholic Boy." Milwaukee (Wisc.) Journal 18 Feb. 1981. Newsbank, Performing Arts Index, 1980-81, fiche 101, grid F6-7.
Infusino announces an upcoming concert with the Jim Carroll Band and The Boomtown Rats at the Uptown Theater in Milwaukee. Briefly summarizing Carroll's literary triumphs with The Basketball Diaries and Living at the Movies, Infusino mentions that "William Burroughs pronounced him 'born to be a writer,' even though Carroll descended from three generations of bartenders." The bulk of the article focuses on Carroll's transition into rock music; says Infusino, "Reaching a mass audience attracted Carroll to rock 'n' roll in the first place." In a phone interview, Carroll remarks that he sees rock "as an extension of what I've always done. . . The energy of rock 'n' roll is similar to what the energy of poetry used to be. It serves the same function that poetry used to serve, even in the traditional sense that poets used to sing." He goes on to explain, "Rock 'n' roll is more accessible to kids than poetry. Kids don't read poetry. In America, poetry has always been considered wimp stuff." Infusino describes Carroll's first performance opening for Patti Smith's, in which he "talked-sang while Smith's band played behind him"--a technique he "carried over" on Catholic Boy. This album's sound, Infusino says, "is fast and raucous, while Carroll recites his lyrics in a fashion reminiscent of Dylan during his 'Bringing it all Back Home' period." Carroll discusses songwriting and death, defending "People Who Died" against critics who "have labeled Carroll the new leader of the 'death cult of rock,' similar to the role Jim Morrison of The Doors once played". He also rallies against born-again Christians: "God has to be with them 24 hours a day, whispering stock tips in their ear; some are in it just to serve their politics." The article concludes with Carroll stating,

What bothers me more about death is what would happen to those who love you. As a writer, I think about my work. If I were told that I had six months to live I would get the hell off this tour, lock myself away during that time and get all my work in order. In the end, that's all that really means anything to me.

"Jim Carroll." Contemporary Authors: A Bio-Bibliographical Guide to Current Authors and Their Works Vol. 45-48. Detroit: Gale, 1974. 89.
Provides some biographical information on Carroll, including his birth date, parents, education, career (including awards), and writings up to 1974. However, because the volume was published in 1974, most of this information is obsolete (Carroll's home address and his agent's address, for example), and some is incorrect: under "Work in Progress," The Book of Nods is cited as The Book of Gods.

"Jim Carroll." Contemporary Literary Criticism: Excerpts from Criticism of the Works of Today's Novelists, Poets, Playwrights, and Other Creative Writers. Ed. Carolyn Riley. Vol. 35. Detroit: Gale, 1985. 77-81.
Includes an essay describing Carroll's work from 1967 to 1984, briefly summarizing The Basketball Diaries and Catholic Boy, noting comments by Jack Kerouac and Ted Berrigan. The major part of the article is devoted to thirteen critical reviews of Carroll's work from various sources, reprinted in whole or in part. (Note that the first concert review by Fred Kirby is about a different Jim Carroll, as the poet Jim Carroll had not performed on stage musically as of 1971.)

"Jim Carroll: Catholic Boy." Billboard 20 Dec. 1980: 44.
Apparently a promotional plug under the heading of "New on the Charts," this article describes Carroll's background from age 12, when he started writing poetry, up to the album Catholic Boy. Briefly mentioned are The Basketball Diaries, Carroll's move to San Francisco, his concert opening for Patti Smith in San Diego, and his subsequent forming of the Jim Carroll Band. The article provides an address for a booking agent, Steve Jensen, and other (probably obsolete) promotional information .

Kenton, Gary. "Carroll's Got an Interesting Story." New Haven (Conn.) Register 27 Feb. 1981. Newsbank, Performing Arts Index, 1980-81, fiche 101, grid F8.
Announcing Carroll's concert at Toad's in New Haven, Kenton begins his comprehensive portrait with the observation that "For most people, reaching age 30 is no great achievement. However, Jim Carroll has squeezed a lot of action into his three decades, most of it near the edge of disaster. The mere fact that he is alive represents a victory of sorts." Describing Carroll's "toughest and bleakest of childhoods," Kenton says "Carroll's ability to write saved his life, giving him an outlet for expressing, and ultimately transcending the horrors of growing up in an environment of poverty, booze, broken homes, debauchery, and crime." "The natural, incessant rhythm of his prose, together with the deceptive childlike simplicity of his style," naturally led to Carroll's venture into rock music. Kenton designates Patti Smith as the prototype for this endeavor (also noting that Carroll and Smith lived together for several years, and collaboratively wrote The Book of Nods): like Smith, Carroll "uses rock 'n' roll as a means to get across his lyrics," he is "by no means a good singer . . . and he makes no effort to smooth the rough edges." Explains Kenton,

He is more interested in stretching the boundaries of rock, in taking risks with it, than in virtuosity or professionalism. Although he is vulnerable to the same attacks of amateurism that befell Smith, he seems to be answering the critics in the same way. By using a basic rock 'n roll assault and putting all the emphasis on his lyrics. For the most part, he seems to be pulling it off.

A large portion of the article seems to be an interview in which Carroll discusses his learning experience in the technical aspects of rock music ("Learning about music keeps me from getting bored"), defends "People Who Died" against accusations that the song glorifies drugs and death, and explains his reasons for going into rock. Says Carroll, "Basically, with rock there's a much better chance at creating some magic than there is at poetry readings. The energy from the audience at a concert is incredible. . . It takes you out of yourself." Citing Carroll's appearance on Fridays, Kenton comments that "Carroll does not always appear to be quite at ease on stage." Carroll argues:

People mistake intensity for nervousness. My lyrics are very personal and I get very hyper when I deliver them on stage. It's like I'm putting all my vulnerabilities up front and a lot of people are just watchin' out of curiosity. I always say, "I'm here to give you my heart and you want some fashion show."

Kenton concludes that, "Like Smith, Carroll will have to spend a lot of time in the early stages of his musical career living down his hype. But the same toughness that allowed him to be 'redeemed through pain' to survive a nightmare childhood should stand him in good stead."

Margolis, Susan. "100 American Seducers On Their Craft & Sullen Art." Rolling Stone 16 Aug. 1973: 42-49.
Features photos of and brief statements (about 50 words each) from 100 contemporary American poets, including Carroll. The article's introduction states:

Poems without number are being written in every corner of this country. They go--most of them--unsolicited, unread, unpaid-for. . . . Poets write things down in order to charm people. There's almost no commercial market in this country for poetry. For charm, yes. But rarely charm for its own sake. The difference is between "let me charm you into loving me" and "let me charm you into buying my product."

Milward, John. Penthouse March 1981: 140+.
Milward's portrait/interview is exceptionally comprehensive, containing some of Carroll's most detailed statements regarding his Catholic school education, his heroin addiction and the events leading to his breaking the habit; he also elaborates on some ideas mentioned in The Basketball Diaries. Milward adds a great deal of information not elsewhere documented; for example, in recounting Carroll's move to Bolinas, Milward describes the genesis of Carroll's relationship with Rosemary and their marriage. Although Carroll's heroin addiction works as a distinct theme, the article goes far beyond focusing on one aspect of Carroll's history. Milward's commentary weaves through all of Carroll's works, highlighting his many incarnations. The article begins:

Jim Carroll stands before an overflow audience at New York's Public Theater, flipping through The Basketball Diaries . . . Slipping into his sidewalk prose, Carroll slowly peels 16 years off his gaunt, burnt-angel frame like a carving knife skinning an onion. But there are no tears. . . .

Milward goes on to describe Carroll leading the Jim Carroll Band through their New York debut, where "the most famous ex-junkie," Keith Richards of the Rolling Stones, joins Carroll on stage for "People Who Died." Using the song as a springboard, Milward comments:

In the audience are those who didn't die, those who remember Jim as a 15-year-old junkie poet marching alongside Allen Ginsberg (who thought he was pretty) to protest the Vietnam War or shadowing Frank O'Hara through Manhattan streets in search of the midtown muse that created the Lunch Poems.

The most unique aspect of Milward's article is its extensive interview with Carroll. First, Carroll express his admiration of a certain nun, Sister Victoise, who was his teacher in the third grade:

She reminded me of Saint Theresa, and I hung out after school with her because I was finding out about someone who I didn't understand. It was like hanging out with a good ballplayer to learn new moves--I got this radiance from her, a sweet sense about grace and living your life with compassion. . . She showed me the inner register.

Carroll also discusses two entries from The Basketball Diaries. Regarding the "presence of a cheetah rather than a chimp" he recommends in The Basketball Diaries, Carroll remarks, "I remember seeing the movie Shane . . . and imagining myself as both the innocent kid and the wizened gunfighter. . ."; also, "The last line of the Diaries--'I just want to be pure,'" Carroll notes, "came because I was trying to find purity in decay. Other junkies were oblivion seekers . . . but I wanted to see what oblivion was like without staying in that pit. . ." Milward explains that Carroll lost his virginity at age 12, and Carroll talks about some adolescent sexual adventures. Carroll goes on to describe his experiences as a male prostitute (Milward remarks, "Carroll wasn't a very good hustler"), and discusses his heroin addiction in detail. Later, Carroll describes following Frank O'Hara around for a day, his initiation into the Lower East Side arts scene in New York and his ever-growing heroin addiction. He goes on to recount the frightening events which led to his enrolling in a methadone treatment program, and describes in detail the physical and psychological process of heroin withdrawal. His move to California was a very positive one; as Carroll explains, in Bolinas,

I was getting used to boredom and learning to use it. I wasn't around people, only dogs, and I liked the life I was leading, and it didn't require any junk. I finally decided that there would be some advantages to getting off junk . . . . What helped me was the realization that you can never go home again. . . . suddenly I felt detached, and the only thing that sustained me was my work.

Milward details Carroll's lifestyle in Bolinas and early relationship with Rosemary, who lived next door to Carroll with her husband; she was "slowly recuperating from a near-fatal motorcycle accident and would come to use the bathroom in Jim's house." Carroll says,

One night I was sitting out in the yard, spacing with my dogs, when I noticed Rosemary. She stood up against the moon in a white gown that shook my spine. It was my vision of the Virgin, or at least a top-of-the-line saint, and she walked me over the hills and into San Francisco and from isolation to rock 'n' roll.

Milward goes on to discuss Carroll's initiation into rock, his opening for Patti Smith in San Diego, the formation of the Jim Carroll Band, and Carroll's marriage to Rosemary. The last part of the article focuses on Carroll's present (in 1981) lifestyle. Milward comments upon the reminders of Carroll's past abuses (with Carroll describing the bursting of an abscess), noting that he "has never been one to hide his wounds, and though he stands by Blake's belief that 'the road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom,' he understands the trap of his own reputation." Carroll remarks that "It's dangerous to let your exploits speak for you . . . It's a waste of talent, and it's a sin"; he goes on to discuss the dangers of heroin addiction with regard to "weekend dilettantes," who "think heroin is like cocaine in its limited ability to take you out, but it's an insidious motherfucker. Sooner or later the habit's gonna getcha. . ." Finally, Milward mentions Carroll's father's reaction to The Basketball Diaries ("I found it rather dry"), and says that Carroll, "By stripping himself bare. . . shoots his art straight into the main line, daring his audience to let the wind run through their veins." Milward describes the Carrolls's apartment as littered with notebooks, "with scraps of language headed for a second volume of diaries, a collection of new poems that will supplement a reissued edition of Living at the Movies, and any number of unwritten books, poems, and songs." States Milward, "Carroll might sing that 'vision's just a costly infection,' but it's the safest narcotic he knows, and he's stalking the rock stage like a playground punk looking for an open shot."

Norton, Mark J. "Jim Carroll's Rock 'n' Roll Heart-On." Creem March 1981: 32+.
In an interview, Carroll discusses at length the intent behind his lyrics ("I don't wanna have any subjective interpretations of my lyrics. I leave them so they can be interpreted through the heart . . ."), the "stigma attached to poetry," the "incestuousness" of poets writing for other poets, and the role of poetry in a "decaying world." He also addresses, with disgust, the comparative issues of nuclear power, starving children, and saving the whales ("I'd love to be one of those Green Peace guys who stand in front of the harpoon boats and stop 'em from killing whales. But I'd rather do a benefit concert to put food in these kids' mouths"). Moving on to the subject of rock 'n' roll, Carroll talks about the Velvet Underground, and says getting "turned on to Bob Dylan" was a pivotal point in The Basketball Diaries: "Before that I listened to Dion, Roy Orbison, street music, a cappella music, the Drifters. I liked Lesley Gore." The interviewer asks Carroll about the author's note in The Basketball Diaries, in which Carroll quotes Hassan Sabah: "Nothing is true. Everything is permitted"; Carroll also uses this line in the song "Nothing is True." Carroll discusses his use of the quotation, noting that "Burroughs has quoted that line so much it's kinda like public domain"; he also comments that "Hassan was a real cocksucker." The last part of the interview is devoted to Carroll's feelings about Catholicism and his defense of "People Who Died." In conclusion, the reviewer asks if Carroll thinks "his poetry would eventually smother his rock 'n' roll, a la Patti Smith?" Carroll replies, "Well, if it does . . . it'll be a great way for my rock 'n' roll to go."

Rivers, Clarice. "The Catholic Boy Confesses: Jim Carroll." Interview Jan. 1980: 54-55.
Rivers briefly summarizes Carroll's literary career up to The Book of Nods and Catholic Boy; however, her interview with Carroll focuses entirely on the events in his life since The Basketball Diaries, beginning with his move to Bolinas. Rivers's questions (like "What else?" and "Describe how Patti Smith . . . got you on stage singing for the first time . . .") prompt Carroll to simply keep talking, and his response here seems, for the most part, less formulaic than in many other interviews. Carroll discusses his "learning to enjoy boredom for the first time in my life" in Bolinas, saying that he wrote "two books and another book of poems. Towards the end I worked pretty much on writing rock lyrics." He also mentions a book of prose poems and a book of short stories, and says, "I might take this book of poems which has about 60 pages and the best of some of my old poems and make that a book." Carroll talks about his dogs, his feelings about rock 'n' roll, his first performance in San Diego, the formation of the Jim Carroll Band, and relates an anecdote about a poetry reading with Patti Smith that didn't work out. The Basketball Diaries are briefly described, and Carroll goes on to talk about a second set of diaries in the works; at this time the diaries are in note form, and he is planning to cover the period from ages 19 to 23. Rivers asks why Carroll called his album Catholic Boy, and Carroll replies that "I wanted to call it Dry Dream because I really don't like the kind of attitude of rock and roll that is so dominated by sexual images--it's a kind of cock rock. . . So rather than a wet dream these songs are dry dreams." Carroll also names "People Who Died" as one of his favorite songs on Catholic Boy and, with Rivers's prodding, talks about his many friends who died in Vietnam (eleven of 40 kids who graduated with him from Catholic grammar school). Toward the end of the interview, Carroll discusses the social and personal environment he works best in, and his continuing association with friends from the New York school of poetry.

Snider, Burr. "Poetry to an Ex-Door's Jam." San Francisco (Ca.) Examiner 25 Nov. 1988. Newsbank, Performing Arts Index, 1989, fiche 11, grid F13.
Snider discusses an upcoming "evening of poetry, prose, and music" with Carroll, Ray Manzarek, and Michael McClure at the Fillmore in San Francisco, focusing primarily on Manzarek and McClure (particularly their association with Jim Morrison of the Doors). Snider interviews McClure and refers to recent reading tours; Carroll is mentioned only peripherally, regarding his "joining forces" with Manzarek and McClure, and his works--The Basketball Diaries, Forced Entries, and Catholic Boy.

Sutherland details his personal impressions of Carroll, as Carroll discusses such topics as drugs ("What I was doing was not escaping from anything . . . I was too young for that"), the fact that he thinks of his persona in The Basketball Diaries "in the third person," "People Who Died" ("It was a really painful song to do"), his reasons for going into rock, and his ambitions in songwriting.

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BOOK REVIEWS
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Living at the Movies

Cooney, Seamus. Rev. of Living at the Movies. Library Journal 98 (1973): 3270.
In a decidedly negative review, Cooney says "Don't miscalculate: avoid this book." The poems, he claims, are

imitative, ranging in models from "the portentous pseudo reference of John Ashbery to the flat trivialities of Ted Berrigan--the whole gamut from A to B in fact. Not one moves or delights, and as for teaching--well, the outlook on life conveyed is the shallowest hedonism based on dope or sex.

"A Fragment," Cooney says, "has more point than many in the book and shows fairly the pretensions to seriousness, the inertness of rhythm and language, and the utter banality of effect."

Malanga, Gerard. "Traveling & Living." Rev. of Living at the Movies. Poetry 125.3 (1974): 162-65.
"The great thing about the work of a genuine poet is the atmosphere which it creates in the mind of the reader . . . Jim Carroll at twenty-five is a genuine poet as surely as Rod McKuen and Rod Taylor are not." Malanga comments that the poems "seem roughly to group themselves into 'general' poems, usually longer, where a subject is viewed from many different angles and states of consciousness, and the 'specific,' where something is seen whole in a flash." He goes on to say that Carroll's technique "is in advance of his maturity," as at times "he is capable of spoiling a good poem by a precious or very little sentimental line . . . but never of trying to make one out of any emotion that is not an integral part of his own deep feeling." Like Cooney above, Malanga cites "A Fragment," but, in contrast to Cooney, says that in such a poem "the vision is so strong that there is no craftiness and the medium of poetry gives way to an idea that can't wait for doctoring-up to be born a flawless declarative sentence. That fast kind of poetry is always the best kind of writing." Also noted here is the tempting comparison between Carroll and Frank O'Hara: says Malanga, "Carroll's poems are not so perfect as O'Hara's nor his vision so intense. While there's nothing extremely deep in the experimental and phenomenological sense, his range is wider than O'Hara's; his feelings not deeper, but made general . . ." Malanga believes that Carroll "has the sure confidence of a true artist, meaning he is confident about the right things. He is steeped in his craft . . . His beginning is a triumph." Also reviewed is Traveling on Credit, by Daniel Halpern.

The Basketball Diaries

James, Jamie. Rev. of The Basketball Diaries. American Book Review 2.3 (1980): 9.
The Basketball Diaries . . . is a literary miracle; a description of the formation of an artistic sensibility written by the artist, not in retrospect, but in the process. It is a portrait of the artist not just as a young man but as a child, written by the child, and thus free of the mature artist's complicated romantic love of himself in pain.

James describes the way in which The Basketball Diaries have been "leaked one and two at a time" to poetry journals over the years, "surrounding the work with the atmosphere of legend." Of The Basketball Diaries's first publication in 1978, James says, "It makes a difference, seeing it all together . . . it bears out one's ongoing suspicion that there's more here than the swaggering bravado of a smart kid grown up all wrong." Comparing Carroll to Rimbaud, James cites the latter's remark that "The soul has to be made monstrous," and states that "if one word describes what happens in the Diaries, it is monstrous." But unlike Rimbaud, "There is nothing so calculated about Jim Carroll's excursion to the inferno . . . He is only obliquely aware that he is a writer, which is exactly the genius of it." Although The Basketball Diaries "is not literature, in the usual sense," James says it is a "great work of storytelling . . . a harmonious blend of funny passages and depressing passages. When it is funny, it is hilarious . . . when it hits a blue note, it is harrowing."

Norton, Mark J. "The Wide World of Drugs." Rev. of The Basketball Diaries. Creem April 1980: 46-47.
"The topic of drug consumption has been chronicled throughout the ages by many different people in many different ways," Norton comments, listing several songs, movies and books with drug themes. The topic may seem redundant, he continues, "what with everyone and his camel waxing poetic on their various chemical indulgences and abuses, but this young street hero Jim Carroll offers a unique perspective, that being the wide world of drugs as experienced by an athletic adolescent." Citing approving remarks by Jack Kerouac, William Burroughs, and Patti Smith, Norton says,

Generally, it is the kiss of death to be blessed by the gods so quickly . . . . Not so with this guy, though.

Through his eyes we see a boy who loves basketball and drugs with equal passion, and speaks of both in the same sentence. Bizarre, to be sure, but a helluva lot easier to understand than Burroughs.

Norton summarizes the basic action of the book, noting that "Throughout his travels from one end of [Manhattan] to the other, he meets and deals with just about every mutated human subspecies--and in Manhattan, that is a pretty wide field." But the "meat of The Basketball Diaries," Norton says, "Involves Carroll's drug adventures. Yeah, I know, junkie rap is junkie rap is junkie rap, but Jim Carroll transcends the obvious and delivers a novel that is alternately funny, sexual and horrifying . . . " Norton continues, "This has all been written about before, but it is fresh through the eyes of a thirteen-year-old, who shot heroin before he smoked dope because he thought the evil weed was addictive. Thumbs up, Jim." The review ends with a note announcing Carroll's first album.

Platenga, Bart. "Jim Carroll's Basketball Diaries: Street Cool Huck Finn Dope Diary." Overthrow 14.2 (1980): 19.
In a suitably "hip" style, Platenga discusses the merits of The Basketball Diaries as "a very viable even desirable political course." "Here's a guy barely in his teens getting right to the heart of the matter . . . It's a truly anarchistic view stated in a clear non-euphemistic and uncompromising way." Platenga mentions Carroll's relationship with Patti Smith, Living at the Movies, and the "stir" caused when excerpts from Diaries appeared in Paris Review. (At the time of this review, he also tells us, Carroll is 29, married, and living in Bolinas.) Of the upcoming release of Catholic Boy, Platenga says, "That and the diaries should give everyone plenty to bite into." Quoting liberally from The Basketball Diaries, Platenga does provide some insights into Diaries from the viewpoint of the book's original audience, the "underground":

His is a world of action. Bragging about action. Action becomes Epiphany. Gems of illumination just fall into his lap. To see clearly one has to DO. The only way to DO is to SEE clearly . . . His irreverent veracity cuts right to the smegmatized genitals of the whole adult technocratic dildo. Genuine contempt for real world recruitment--the college-suburb route. Their version just won't do.

The Book of Nods

Fox, H. Rev. of The Book of Nods. Choice 24.2 (1986): 302.
The brief review states the following, verbatim:

Carroll is at his best when his is on the New York Streets playing a Rimbaud-Vallejo poete maudit. Sometimes he almost achieves a perfect blend of rebel and language. But most of the time he is too "adorned," too consciously poetic. If he wants to be street he has to be street--not just a parlor academic out to vacuum up a little real life. For graduate collections.

Guillory, Daniel L. Rev. of The Book of Nods. Library Journal 15 Apr. 1985: 84.
In a brief review (approximately 90 words), Guillory says that "Carroll's prose poems are "like verbal equivalents of Dali's paintings: a man vomits the hands of a clock (in "Silent Money") and a cat jumps into a mirror (in "Watching the Schoolyard"). However, these gaps soon lose their shock value, and "Carroll sometimes fails to create a meaningful context for his images." More successful are Carroll's lyric poems, such as "A Night Outing." "New York Variations" and "California Variations" are also mentioned as amounting to "interlocking meditations on urban landscapes . . ." Guillory concludes that "The Book of Nods is always interesting if sometimes uneven."

Low, Denise. "A Poet Laureate For All Occasions." Rev. of The Book of Nods. Kansas City (Missouri) Star 8 June 1986. Newsbank, Literature Index, 1986, fiche 2, grid F1.
Low calls Carroll "More a poet who also sings," mentioning Carroll's three albums and one video. "He writes surreal snatches of experiences laced with street life . . . Odd syntax makes his work alogical." Low goes on to say Carroll's prose poems (nods) "are like fables, but peopled with anti-heroes. 'Rimbaud Scenes' celebrates the artist-protagonist who suffers from love of beauty rather than a dentist's ministrations." "The publisher hails Mr. Carroll as the poet laureate of rock 'n' roll. Only time can formalize the title, but he joins two bona fide poets laureate, [Robert Penn] Warren and [Steve] Mason. In each case, these poets speak outside the English classroom to unexpected audiences." Also reviewed here is Johnny's Song: Poetry of a Vietnam Veteran, by Steve Mason.

Mutter, John. Rev of The Book of Nods. Publishers Weekly 4 Apr. 1985: 57-58.
In a negative review, Mutter says the poems and prose pieces in The Book of Nods "show exposure to Borges, Kafka, particularly Rimbaud--the romantic, drug-taking exception to all rules who has stymied many scholars and led many bright children astray." He goes on to say that Carroll has "pretty much outworn" the "jejune decadence" which was the original attraction of Carroll in Living at the Movies, and that The Book of Nods is "wincingly embarrassing"; "a bad example of serious talent destroyed over the years by negligence and disregard for self-discipline."

Forced Entries

Hochswender, William. "The Way They Were in Greenwich Village." Rev. of Forced Entries. Los Angeles Times Book Review 18 Oct. 1987: 10.
Carroll's "junk-induced dreams and downtown adventures have inspired writings--beautiful ravings, actually--that are ornate and harrowingly stark." Hochswender describes Carroll's "adventures," quoting liberally from Forced Entries (for example, "Times Square's Cage" is quoted in its entirety), noting that "Carroll moves from swish to swank with ease." Also, Hochswender points out that "His memoir has some documentary value--meetings with remarkable men, everyone from Bob Dylan, Allen Ginsberg and Ted Berrigan to Terry Southern, W. H. Auden and the KGB, are sharply drawn," and that Carroll establishes links between the "happenings" of the 1960s and today's performance art. "But the real attraction of Carroll," Hochswender says, "is the energy of his language, whether applied to fantastically baroque nods or to mundane urban realities." As in any diary, Carroll sometimes seems "full of himself, and, as a consequence, full of something else," but "When, ultimately, Carroll finds his redemption in California, detoxing in . . . Bolinas, we sense that enormity of the underground experience, as lived, in ways a documentary history can only grope for." Also reviews Down and In: Life in the Underground, by Ronald Sukenick.

Jefferson, Margo. "Bringing It All Back Home: 'Sixties' Voices in the 'Eighties." Rev. of Forced Entries. Vogue July 1987: 110.
In a somewhat jaded manner, Jefferson simultaneously reviews Forced Entries and Joan Baez's And a Voice to Sing With, contrasting the two writers' backgrounds, lifestyles, and claims to fame. The reviewer finds common ground in the two books as "Baez and Carroll do manage to meet smack-dab in the middle of our 1980s' obsession with image, publicity, self-justification, and self-congratulation. . . . Both name-drop, and both have a need to refine and retouch their personas that is exasperating." She goes on to say that "Baez isn't a writer. Jim Carroll is. True, he's florid and narcissistic, but he's also quick, canny, and good at shaping scenes." Jefferson concludes,

Carroll and Baez long for glory, as performers and cultural emblems. . . Me, I'm left a bit queasy, for I think I've just spotted two of our oldest, most intractable icons. What we have here is the archetypal Good Mother versus the archetypal Bad Boy. And considering the cultural shifts and ruptures of the last thirty years . . . I can't help asking . . . is that all there is?"

Mutter, John. Rev. of Forced Entries. Publishers Weekly 5 June 1987: 73.
Carroll is "a sui generis admixture of street-wise punk, naif and pseudointellectual," and "while his poetry leaves something to be desired, this diary-like account of his adventure in the kinky wonderland of the avant-garde scene in Alphabet City and the Lower East Side . . . is a dead-on hit that bears comparison to William Burroughs' classic Junky." Mutter describes "Carroll's underworld of loft parties and art scene events," mentioning the Chelsea Hotel, Max's Kansas City, Andy Warhol's Factory, and the Poetry Project at St. Mark's, and says that "When Carroll is not busy scoring dope or sex, he is scoring celebrities, but his peculiar aura of choirboy innocence transforms even the most decadent happenings into a good-natured romp." Mutter concludes that Carroll "is a marvelous storyteller and even the strained and artificial 'poetic' style that dampens his somewhat contrived verse works here to utterly charming effect."

Rev. of Forced Entries. Jim Kobak's Kirkus Reviews 55.9 (1987): 767.
This review calls Forced Entries "A slice of the debauched life of poet Carroll at the tail end of the 60's, before he embarked on a second, dual career as a rock singer." Living at the Movies and The Basketball Diaries are mentioned, and the review notes that Carroll here "picks up the story as he's living at the Chelsea Hotel . . ." Various figures who "come and go," and the "variety of truly peculiar jobs" Carroll holds are noted, and the reviewer suggests that "For readers hell-bent on self-destruction, there are a lot of handy tips here--the proper procedures for shooting heroin, the etiquette of hop parties . . . ." The review concludes:

Carroll's sense of humor occasionally makes a welcome intrusion into the sleazy grandeur of street scenes and 60's cliches, and his prose often flashes with genuine intensity and wit; but there's surprisingly little here about poetry, poets, or what Carroll might disdainfully refer to as the intellectual of literary. Shame.

Stevens, Mark. "The Cockroach Chronicles." Rev. of Forced Entries. New York Times Book Review 2 Aug. 1987, sec. 7: 8.
Stevens says Forced Entries "provides plenty of diverting tinsel," enumerating Carroll's activities at the Factory and Max's Kansas City, but "Mr. Carroll aspires to something weightier, however--a story of struggle and redemption." After running through an account of Carroll's escape to California and methadone treatment, though, Stevens decides that "The tinsel is better. In a chatty '60s style, peppered with the customary profanity, Mr. Carroll jokes around, cuts up, takes a wry view and is quick with the quip." In less lighthearted passages, Carroll's writing "cannot sustain this more serious tone. There is, to begin with, a failure of craft . . ." states Stevens; "Often the prose is heated to an adolescent purple." "The walk on the wild side--understood as a spiritual passage--is a commonplace of modern writing. So is the assumption that being down and out and anxious is a fascinating, even superior condition. Because he asks no questions of these cliches, Mr. Carroll cannot restore them to life."

Combined Reviews:
The Basketball Diaries and Forced Entries

Delacorte, Peter. "A Follow-Through Beyond The Hoop." Rev. of Forced Entries. San Francisco (California) Examiner and Chronicle 12 July 1987. Newsbank, Literature Index, 1987, fiche 15, grid E3-4.
Delacorte looks at Forced Entries as a continuation of The Basketball Diaries; thus he indirectly reviews both books. The Basketball Diaries, he says, "Was an extraordinary piece of work--an account of four years, more or less, in the life of a kid growing up in New York City . . . The kid happened to be a basketball star, a thief, a male prostitute and an incipient junkie, so there was plenty of action and things got plenty lurid." He seems quite impressed that "most of this cool, nihilistic, terrific stuff really was composed by a kid no older than 16." However, in Forced Entries, with Carroll now an adult, "[Carroll's] life is nowhere near as interesting as it was back in the mid-'60s, but it's still consistently weird . . ." Delacorte goes on to say, "If 'Basketball Diaries' was 'Oliver Twist' projected into the late 20th century, then 'Downtown Diaries' is a sort of rococo and very hip Liz Smith column, with Carroll as both gossip columnist and central character." While quoting liberally from Forced Entries, Delacorte tries to decide whether or not the book is actually good, always comparing it to The Basketball Diaries: "Five years under the bridge and not much has changed, evidently." Although Forced Entries has its "vivid little moments," Delacorte "kept expecting something else, some substance that never arrived. 'Basketball Diaries' was a sort of perverse bildungsroman; we may not have been pleased by its developments, but they did occur. Here [in Forced Entries], there is rather languid movement in no particular direction until, a few months in, Carroll starts talking about moving out to a little town in Northern California to kick his habit . . . . for the next 30 pages the book is incessantly boring, because Carroll is a fish out of water. In its meandering way, the book has been leading to this: the rite of purification, the great battle against the 'small pink simian' that holds Carroll captive. But nothing happens." Even though Delacorte notes that, "Ironically, the happy ending that didn't come in 'Basketball Diaries' has . . . sneaked into the final pages of 'Downtown Diaries,' he concludes that "unfortunately we don't care nearly as much for the 1973 Jim Carroll as we had about the kid he'd been."

Lehmann-Haupt, Christopher. "Books of the Times." Rev. of The Basketball Diaries and Forced Entries. New York Times 9 July 1987: C23.
"Jim Carroll is a poet and rock musician in his mid-30's who grew up in several poor sections of Manhattan, the son and grandson of Irish Catholic bartenders. In the fall of 1963, when he was all of 13 years old, he began keeping a diary," the review begins. Lehmann-Haupt notes that "The diary project proved successful," running through the work's publishing history and saying that it "created something of a sensation" upon its first publication in book form "for its hair-raising portrait of adolescent street life in New York." Lehmann-Haupt says The Basketball Diaries "was not a book that seemed likely to produce a sequel," citing its accounts of sex, drugs, and crime; "But behold, a sequel has now been published." Lehmann-Haupt summarizes several aspects of Forced Entries, including Carroll's regretting "having thrown away his basketball career," his escapades at Max's Kansas City and the Factory, and his circle of artsy friends. Says Lehmann-Haupt, "The voice is grown up now. There are occasional vestiges of its origins . . . but the whine and the adolescent strutting are gone . . . . He is reaching for something deeper now. Instead of hip talk, he's trying for poetry." Lehmann-Haupt goes on to say that "Instead if teenage bravado, he writes of violent suicide, of 'evil as a pervasive entity,' and of the emptiness of adolescent fantasies." Still, the two diaries are similar "in their quest for extreme sensations and their eagerness to shock the reader . . . . One is aware almost throughout that the author is more intelligent than he appears and that he takes a certain pride in dissipating his gifts." Carroll "finally gains control of himself" by overcoming his heroin addiction--though "the image with which he dramatizes his victory will disgust many readers . . . . But readers who can stomach the ending . . . will find it both effective and convincing." The reviewer goes on to cite Carroll's successful writing and musical career as evidence of Carroll's redemption, concluding that "whether or not one believes Carroll's redemption, his two diaries constitute a remarkable account of New York City's lower depths."

Perry, Tony. "2 Sets of 'Diaries' Show Off New York City's Seediness." (Harrisburg, Pennsylvania) Patriot 26 July 1987. Newsbank, Literature Index, 1987, fiche 15, grid E5-6.
Perry observes, "There is a reason why Jim Carroll has never been asked to contribute to Fodor's travel guide to New York City . . . . What he has to say about the place . . . would scare away the most adventurous traveler." Reviewing both The Basketball Diaries and Forced Entries, Perry notes that "At times the reader is made to feel downright voyeuristic from the confines of his easy chair" and the fact that the stories are not only true, but also told from first-hand experience makes them "all the more harrowing." The Basketball Diaries "is not entirely pleasant reading . . . and Jim Carroll . . . is a cocky, arrogant street punk who runs from his own shadow and is totally unhappy with his lot in life." "As a character study," Perry says, "'The Basketball Diaries' is an frank depiction of juvenile delinquency at its worst." About Forced Entries, Perry discusses Carroll's admission that the second book was creatively embellished, "which could lead many to the conclusion that his first set of diaries was embellished as well with the arrogant swagger of an adolescent boy." Forced Entries, he says, is a "much more literal book," and its "convincing, if unconventional and thoroughly disgusting, ending leaves the reader with a vivid image of a man trying to purge himself of what he calls a sickness he took years to perfect." Perry finds Carroll's name dropping irritating, but says the book as a whole "makes for a good way to pass the time on the beach or by the pool, but should be avoided by anyone offended by strong language." At the end of the article, Perry mentions that Carroll is a "rock singer in the mold of Lou Reed . . . "

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RECORD REVIEWS
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Catholic Boy

Farber, J. "Jim Carroll's Second Coming." Rev. of Catholic Boy. Village Voice 17 Dec. 1980: 96+.
In a combination album and concert review (the Jim Carroll Band at Trax), Farber says, "Catholic Boy is hardly an album of simplistic survivor cliches"; that "Carroll uses a healthy present-tense perspective on his self-destructive past to debunk any shallow glorification of his poetic-junkie myth . . ." However, Farber's impression isn't predominantly positive: Carroll "too often portrays himself as the cartoonish, hiply elitist bum of The Basketball Diaries," and is "sometimes flashing his credentials to entertain and impress." Farber seems unimpressed with "I Want the Angel," but notes that "at least the piece takes its own hokiness into account"; "It's Too Late" receives conditional praise (Carroll's stand is "sarcastic if somewhat moralistic"). Farber comments that "Carroll's self-awareness makes him likeable, [but] his egocentrism both musical and lyrical has an off-putting effect," going on to point out the many flaws in Carroll's "talky singing voice," music, lyrics, and his performance at Trax--in which Carroll "created an unintentional gap from his audience with his pale, pained look and his apparent internalization of his own stories . . ." The review concludes by praising "People Who Died," stating that "Carroll's at his most poignant in the one track where his characters are more than mere props for his internal visions." Farber notes some of these characters are "mentioned in 'When the City Drops . . .,' but Carroll's braggadocio stripped them of their humanity. Here he 'exploits' his own violent myth without cockiness or self-pity."

Green, William. "Latest 'Urban Poet" Singer Fails with 'Catholic Boy"." Rev. of Catholic Boy. (Little Rock) Arkansas Gazette 17 May 1981. Newsbank, Performing Arts Index, 1981-82, fiche 34, grid B5.
In a combined review, Lou Reed's Rock and Roll Diary: 1967-1980 overshadows the discussion of Catholic Boy, as Green repeatedly ranks Carroll against Reed. When he is not making comparisons, Green comments that

Carroll, a former heroin junkie who has written and published poetry from an early age has been hailed in Newsweek, Musician, Interview, and other national journals. The attention is enough to make you suspicious. The album is fair, at best.

Green complains about the lack of a lyric sheet in the album, and says, "it is difficult, on first listen, anyway, to hear the words"; he goes on to say that "People Who Died" is "effective, in a way." "Catholic Boy" contains some of Carroll's best lines, and, "There are some softer numbers that are appealing. One, 'Day and night,' has a lovely melody and a Buddy Holly sound; another, 'City Drops Into the Night,' has more good lines that pop out good images." Green concludes, "I wouldn't write off Jim Carroll, but in this, his debut album, style, a kind of posing, seems to get in the way of content."

Humphries, Patrick. Rev. of Catholic Boy. Melody Maker 27 June 1981: 26.
Humphries opens with a mock-derogatory comment on New York rock in general:

New York rock is different. New York rock is hard, abrasive. Urgent voices over lobotomized guitars, the sound of the street, rising up above the klaxons, between the tenements and sucked by the air conditioners into apartments where--when they hear the word "culture"--they reach for the record deck.

The reviewer lists some of New York's noted rock performers (the Velvet Underground, the New York Dolls, the Ramones), then: "Along comes the Jim Carroll Band, another in that same sleazy tradition. . . . they weigh in with a brash, sneeringly confident debut." Humphries compares "Catholic Boy" to Bruce Springsteen's "Lost in the Flood," and says, "'People Who Died' hangs around in bleak Ramones territory." It is difficult to hear the lyrics over the guitars, Humphries comments, suggesting a lyric sheet would help. The reviewer concludes, "It's the harsh aggressive sound of the city, punk with panache, but lacking the killer graces to make the debut album a real nugget."

Rev. of Catholic Boy. Playboy May 1981: 39.
The brief review states, verbatim:

These days, if you give your regards to Broadway, you stand a good chance of getting either propositioned by male hustlers or mugged by junkies. The Jim Carroll Band's Catholic Boy (Atco) reflects the new New York in word pictures of its seamier side. Carroll's lyrics, backed by straight ahead rock 'n' roll, are some of the most powerful to come out of that city since Lou Reed was in his heyday. It figures: Carroll lived the life he sings about, having been a hustler/junkie. The result is a celebration of sex, drugs, and death that is as unsettling as it is intriguing.

Riegel, Richard. "Subterranean Urbanesque Blues." Rev. of Catholic Boy. Creem Feb. 1981: 44.
Riegel says Catholic Boy "confidently takes up that uniquely Eightyish urbanscape right where The Basketball Diaries left off in the summer of 1966," and "if you appreciated the many jagged gems of word 'n' roll hidden among the furious chaos of Patti Smith's [similar leap from poetry to rock music], then get set for major acupuncture on your jugular." Lou Reed ("the campus poet . . . before the relatively disingenuous Velvet Underground") and Iggy Pop ("when he was still an iguana") are cited as the major influences on Catholic Boy, as "Jim Carroll phrases with the prophetic bemusement, with the dry and prurient wonder of a true believer Lou Reed." Riegel says "City Drops Into the Night" is "plenty for weeks of psychotextual analysis," and concludes: "Pardon my critic's disbelief that rock 'n' roll this intense and true has come from what I've always smugly called 'a real writer,' but Jim Carroll's done it, over and over, for sure."

Simels, Steven. "Jim Carroll." Rev. of Catholic Boy. Stereo Review Magazine Feb. 1981: 90.
Simels calls Carroll an "authentic voice," comparing him to other rock poets--Bob Dylan, Jim Morrison, Patti Smith--in reference to Carroll's attempt to take the "diction of serious poetry . . . mate it to the diction of traditional rock-and-roll, and then come up with an appropriately neon-lit style to go along with it." Catholic Boy is an "extremely impressive debut album, flawed and pretentious at times, but also genuinely ambitious, gripping, and believable." Although Carroll's themes of "Catholic guilt, redemptive sex, life and death on the wild side, Rimbaud . . . the whole bohemian shopping list" are nothing new, he, unlike other rock poets, has lived on the streets and has battled a "truly epic heroin addiction," rather than just reading about these things. Secondly, citing the "scary, mordantly funny" Basketball Diaries and Carroll's (supposed) nomination for the Pulitzer Prize at age 22, Simels notes that Carroll is a gifted writer. Simels goes on to point out the "obvious reference points" of the Jim Carroll Band--early Stones, Velvet Underground, and the Ramones--saying that the band is "among the most accomplished hard-rock outfits now working, and at their absolute limits." The band, he says, "manage a majestic, darkly menacing wall of sound that connects with classic rock-and-roll archetypes." In agreement with other critics, Simels says Carroll "can barely sing at all," but notes that he is a "perfect front man for this kind of sophisticated clatter." Simels praises "People Who Died" as the album's most arresting track, as it "neatly sums up the conflicting, contradictory impulses that power Carroll's work." Simels ends, noting that although "Crow" and "Three Sisters" aren't top-notch, "There's no use pretending Carroll isn't a genuine talent, or that he and his magnificent band haven't made, in Catholic Boy, some of the most impressive rock of this young decade."

Tucker, Ken. "Jim Carroll's a Legend Before His Time." Rev. of Catholic Boy. Los Angeles (Calif.) Herald Examiner 24 Oct. 1980. Newsbank, Literature Index, 1980-81, fiche 22, grid A8-9.
Tucker says Catholic Boy "is an earnest effort, smart and a bit too mindful of the verities: As lead singer, Carroll's phrasing and fondness of verbal prolixity can be placed exactly--Bob Dylan on Bringing it all back Home." Tucker claims a "capsule review" would suffice for Catholic Boy, were it not for Carroll's biography, "which has earned him more print space than 37 debut-album artists, an amazing feat when you consider that the album is being released only this week and that the Jim Carroll Band has yet to set out on its first national tour." Tucker claims The Basketball Diaries, Living at the Movies, and Carroll's "resume--junkie/poet/basketball-ace/rocker" have "led to encomiums like the one in BAM" (which Tucker describes as "the most breathless version yet of what's rapidly becoming the Jim Carroll myth"); however, Tucker states that "Carroll's strengths as a rock 'n' roller have nothing to do with his life as a poet." Tucker sees "City Drops Into the Night" as a failure, but says the "absence of both sentimentality and distracting similes" in "People Who Died" "lends the song an edge of shocking humor." "The rest of the time," Tucker continues, "Carroll shakes down the poetic diction of the New York School poets." Frank O'Hara is also an influence; Tucker comments that O'Hara would appreciate "People Who Died," and

would know that the rhyming couplets that comprise other songs like 'Three Sisters' and 'Crow' are both sincere attempts at rock lyricism and a wiseguy's way of showing rock 'n' rollers how a real poet can toss off metrically complex stuff like this with ease--here Carroll's arrogance is well earned and even endearing.

However, Carroll's arrogance is not always so endearing, which Tucker illustrates with Carroll's comment in BAM: "I hate it when people dance to my music. I want them to listen and take something back with them that they can think about." Tucker suggests that listeners should "determine our own reactions and . . . see whether Carroll hops off the stage to quell any uninformed pogo dancing that may occur . . . ."

---. Rev. of Catholic Boy. Rolling Stone 5 Feb. 1981: 54.
In a kind of revised and condensed version of the above review, Tucker states: "The Jim Carroll Band play like a well-rehearsed New York Dolls--blunt, loud and catchy, but lacking that late, great group's vehement humor and spontaneity. Yet what's most striking about their debut album . . . isn't the music but the words." Tucker goes on to say that the "reams" of words that "flood almost every line with endless detail" and "[u]nifying metaphors" are only to be expected as Carroll is a "semi-established writer." Most of Tucker's statements about Carroll tend to be sarcastic; for example, Living at the Movies "boasted the requisite cover painting by a New York school artist, Larry Rivers." Tucker does cover Catholic Boy thoroughly, though certainly not kindly. Carroll's songwriting, he says, tends to be very "sobersided," "Three Sisters" sounds like "The Ramones Find the Basement Tapes," "City Drops Into The Night" is "seven minutes plus of blackish-purple nocturnal imagery," and "Carroll proves much worse than Patti Smith at piling on the poetic dread." However, Tucker praises "People Who Died"--where "the singer lets the band set the breakneck pace, then speeds after them, shouting a list of the names of his comrades who've shuffled off this hot-plate coil"--and "Catholic Boy"; these two songs, he says, "finally make us believe that, somewhere between the poet and the poseur, he's got his own style."

Dry Dreams

Goldberg says Carroll has "developed considerably as a vocalist" since Catholic Boy and, with the addition of a piano player (Tom Canning), has expanded his sound; for example, the Latin rhythm on "Jody" and honky-tonk piano on "Jealous Twin." Carroll is most successful on "slower, brooding pieces like "Rooms' and 'Jody,' but has trouble when the band tries to rock out, as on "Barricades." The best song, Goldberg notes, is "'Lorraine,' which is about kicking junk to form a rock band." (The Rolling Stone rating was three stars.)

"Ken." Rev. of Dry Dreams. Variety 12 May 1982: 464.
The brief review states, verbatim:

This Gotham-based writer/poet turned rocker weighs in with a solid followup to his impressive debut LP, "Catholic Boy." Carroll's biting vocals have an insinuating thrust perfectly suited to material that's rich in street-centered, druggie, fallen-angel imagery. His guitar-oriented band provides a slashing, propulsive framework for dramatic tracks like "Work Not Play," "Barricades" and "Lorraine."

McLeese, Don. "'Dry Dreams' Pulls Punches." Rev. of Dry Dreams. Chicago (Ill.) Sun-Times 13 June 1982. Newsbank, Performing Arts Index, 1982-1983, fiche 4, grid B12.
McLeese calls Dry Dreams "A major disappointment" compared to Catholic Boy, which "split the difference between the Velvet Underground and the Rolling Stones, and made the results sound like second nature . . . Few debuts in recent memory have packed as much punch." The "punches" Dry Dreams pulls include "mannered" arrangements, "sterile" production, and "slack" playing; also, "Carroll's attempts at conventional vocalizing . . . are less than convincing." Further, McLeese says that "As for the writing, when he isn't offering a junkie-chic peepshow, he seems content with surface-skimming cleverness." The reviewer quotes lines from "Work, Not Play" and "Them," asserting that they "aren't poetry, they're wordplay at its most facile--Creative Writing 101 suff." McLeese concludes: "In light of high expectations, the aptly titled 'Dry Dreams' is barely listenable." Also reviewed is Sweets from a Stranger, by Squeeze.

Sweeting, Adam. Rev. of Dry Dreams. Melody Maker 22 May 1982: 29.
In an almost comically brutal review, Sweeting calls the album "A far from convincing workout, hailing from New York," and finds this surprising considering "the heavyweight credits littering the sleeve." He goes on to say that

Jim Carroll belongs to the power-chords-and-bravado school of songwriters. While his band clump around with their drab 4/4 tempos and mock-epic chord sequences, Carroll has the cheek to sing his own absurd lyrics. Nothing straightforward ever happens to Jim. Everything he does is metaphorical.

Quoting from "Rooms," Sweeting says, "It gets worse," and quotes lines from "Still Life"; he remarks that "It's like a Young Observer poetry competition." Sweeting finds the album disappointing, "because I somehow had the impression that Jim Carroll was one of these street-realist types, bulging with grit and hard times on the bowery." Sweeting says the title track is "even worse. Drums pound a cement-shoe shuffle while Jim Bares his chest and drawls nonsense . . . . Damned unhealthy." Sweeting's conclusion speaks for itself: "There's nothing here to suggest that Jim Carroll has ever experienced anything real at all. He probably spends his time in the launderette reading Heavy Metal comics and Playboy. We are not amused."

Tearson, Michael. Rev. of Dry Dreams. Audio 66.8 (1982): 23.
The Jim Carroll Band's first album, Catholic Boy, received a great deal of attention mostly due to the "throat-grabbing intensity of "People Who Died," notes Tearson, and "That album's pure drive is matched on Dry Dreams." "The band has the snap and crackle Carroll's songs need, but however sturdy a group they are, when the lead voice is as limited as Carroll's, the poetry had better be brilliant." Although he says Carroll's songs "are not as strong as the previous crop," he calls "Jealous Twin" the clear standout. (Sound rating, B; Performance, C+.)

I Write Your Name

Connelly, Christopher. Rev. of I Write Your Name. Rolling Stone 29 March 1984: 74, 76.
"'Freddy's Store' is Jim Carroll's best song since his necrorock standard, "People Who Died." Connelly calls "Freddy's Store" a "conga-colored workout about an arms merchant's voluminous warehouse," and says it "showcases this street-smart-poet-turned-dilettante-rocker's talent as a gritty lyricist with a taste for full-throttle rock & roll." Even so, Connelly says Carroll's overall abilities "remain a mite too slim to carry an album's worth of material," and I Write Your Name has "too much of not enough." Connelly describes Carroll as "Not much of a singer" who "nearly raps his songs over a pungent four-piece attack, spearheaded by thrash-guitar master Lenny Kaye." Several of the songs are "worth a listen," but I Write Your Name, says Connelly, shows that Carroll has yet to fulfill his promise. (The Rolling Stone rating was two stars.)

Levin, Eric. Rev. of I Write Your Name. People Weekly 21 May 1984: 34+.
"Jim Carroll has an ear for language and an eye for imagery." Levin lauds Carroll's lyrics, commenting that "certain lines slap one's face like low branches along a trail" (the reviewer cites "Love's a Crime"); however, Levin qualifies his praise in that the lyrics are "buried in the mix and work like a kind of nontonal instrument." Stating that Carroll "has absolutely no singing voice," Levin allows that "To his credit, Carroll doesn't try to sing. He spews words and images, chanting and speak-singing . . ." Going on to summarize Carroll's poetic and musical background, Levin resolves that in adding Lenny Kaye and Brian Marnell "Carroll has fashioned his best band yet . . . The guitar and bass playing is crisp, cutting and rhythmically assured, with a good range of mood and inflection and almost no plug-in gimmickry. It crackles."

Pollock, Bruce. "On Record: Popular Music." Rev. of I Write Your Name. Wilson Library Bulletin 58 (1984): 746-47.
Pollock compares Carroll to Leonard Cohen:

Jim Carroll is a poet and a novelist/rocker whose singing plainly is a last resort. Over the course of his three-album career Carroll has drifted--or been pushed--toward the traditional singer/songwriter middle ground, that of a performer/bandleader. For a poet this thought might be ludicrous, had not Lou Reed, Patti Smith, and probably some others accomplished it with much aplomb, though not without some initial embarrassment, one suspects.

I Write Your Name is the album Jim Carroll always wanted to make and should have made but couldn't until now. This is the one, not his other two. He showed great promise on the first, fell on his fair-skinned face on the second; now here comes the third pitch and the red-headed former athlete-cum-junkie/writer belts a home run.

Sugarman states that Carroll no longer relies on famous friends and his reputation "to achieve mystery and impact"; Carroll is "now a true electric poet moving with startling confidence and grace." Part of the reason for this growth, the reviewer suggests, is that "Carroll has forgotten who he wants to be, who he is supposed to be, and who he is expected to represent. . . Carroll is finally painting, not just pointing." Sugarman notes that there is no lyric sheet "by intent, not budgetary restrictions. He wants us to listen, not read." Sugarman praises "Love Crimes" ("the perfect opening track"), and says "Freddy's Store" "sounds like a New York munitions version of 'L.A. Woman'"; also noted is the influence of the Doors in "Black Romance." Particularly impressed with Carroll's lyrics, Sugarman praises "Dance the Night Away," and suggests that, "were Arthur Rimbaud today alive and living in New York, it is not inconceivable the very first line he would write would be this one from '(No More) Luxuries: 'C'est la vie . . . the color of T.V.'" Sugarman cites "Sweet Jane" as "The only filler on the record . . . done better by both Lou Reed and Mott the Hoople"; his "only other complaint is that Carroll still retains the annoying habit of shrilling the ends of words." In conclusion Sugarman concedes that "these are really minor quibbles over flaws on the surface of what sturdily remains a vibrant, glowing landscape of rock 'n' roll at its most beatific. We'd be smart first and fortunate later to not let this boy slip out of our sight unappreciated."

This isn't an album for every taste, but very little of worth can appeal to everyone. What we mean is that this record is deliberately aimed at a rather narrow audience, anthologizing the words of 10 cult heroes associated with (a)the poetry/rock scene, (b)the New Wave scene, and/or (c)poetry. Not all of them are terrific . . .

The reviewers name several of the featured artists and the works they perform; of Carroll's "A Peculiar- Looking Girl," they note only, "no music on his track, although he's been known to make music on many occasions." Concluding, the Tivens state that "This is quite an interesting collection of works . . . . It's not particularly danceable, nor is it recommended for the passive listener, but it's a good 37 minutes of intellectual entertainment.

The jungle telegraphs will pick up the message and run it back on crystal wires to the known world, where his books will become expensive although he is laughed at and ignored. (Clark ix-x)