When I heard that Debbie Harry was publishing her memoir, I felt a bit sorry for her ghost writer. I had interviewed the Blondie singer a few years ago, and every time I’d asked anything about her 50-year career she’d looked madly bored and kept saying, “Let’s not dwell on the past.” Magnificently languid, maddeningly vague, she was far too cool to remember a thing. The mind boggled to think how anyone was going to get Harry’s full life story out of her.
Luckily, I was half wrong. Face It is a riot of jaw-dropping rock’n’roll anecdotes, packed with sex, drugs and pretty much everyone who was anyone in the 1970s and 1980s — Andy Warhol, David Bowie, Miles Davis, Muhammad Ali. We get
