“I had to put my ski mask on to read that one!” my late Aunt Maude would often tease. She loved to read and would often get books by writers such as Irving Wallace from the library. She would describe the contents as “racy” and say that she would be embarrassed if anyone caught her reading them, hence the ski mask.
Backstage Passes: An Anthology of Rock and Roll Erotica from the Pages of Blueblood edited by Amelia G. goes way beyond Irving Wallace with sixteen stories of fantasy-fiction often described as intelligent, sexy, edgy, and countercultural. The uninformed reader should be aware that these stories contain graphic and detailed descriptions of various sexual activities and body parts — this is not Gray’s Anatomy.
Before the introduction, “Chanel No. 5”, a poem by Johnny Chen introduces us to a world of “Raunchy nylon strides” that “Slink on sharp heels. Leather whispers with lace.” There are no photos or images in Backstage Passes, and they aren’t necessary. It’s like comparing radio with television, the words paint vivid images in the mind. Think of rainbows of hair coloring, lots of tattoos and piercing, scantily clad punk queens and of course, lots of sex.
Backstage Passes: An Anthology of Rock and Roll Erotica from the Pages of Blueblood edited by Amelia G. was originally published over ten years ago and sold well in a variety of outlets (from newsstands to Barnes and Noble). Discovering a used copy being sold online for over sixty dollars was a hint to editor, Amelia G., that the time might be right for another release. The latest edition was released in June 2010 by BlueBlood Books.
The fantasies begin when an alien apparition reunites a distracted couple in “When Enter Came” by John Shirley. “America” by Poppy Z. Brite ends the collection of stories with the shortest of the book (three and a half pages). “America” features a fan of deserts, horses with no names, a man-cat that spouts words that would make George Carlin blush and ends with a classic sexual axiom. Sandwiched in between are fourteen more stories of various lengths that run the gamut of “music subculture-punk-gothic” lifestyles. (OK, ok, I know punk and gothic are different, so gimme a break here, I’m a product of the 60’s.)