Neon Angel: A Memoir of a Runaway

Neon Angel: A Memoir of a Runaway

Cherie Currie, Tony O'Neill

Language: English

Pages: 384

ISBN: 0061961361

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


In this candid autobiography, Cherie Currie—the original lead singer of ‘70s teenage all-girl rock band The Runaways—powerfully recounts her years in the band, her friendship with guitarist Joan Jett, and her struggle with drugs. An intense, behind-the-scenes look at rock music in the gritty, post-glam era, Neon Angel is a must-read for anyone whose heart beats to the rhythm of David Bowie, Suzi Quatro, Nick Gilder, and the Sex Pistols, and for every fan of the movie it inspired: The Runaways, starring Dakota Fanning and Kristen Stewart as Cherie Currie and Joan Jett.

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and the deep, searing pain Derek left behind. Oh God, he hurt me. He hurt me real bad. Snip. Off came another lock. Derek liked them young, young and fresh. That’s what he told me. That’s why he told me he was doing it. Young and fresh. Just like I was. Just like I was before that night. When Marie found me and I told her what happened, we made a decision not to tell Mom. Mom didn’t even know about Derek, and how could I talk about something like this with my mother? And even if we called the

wanting to dance, make new friends, watch, and be a part of the carnival-like atmosphere. It was at the Sugar Shack that I met a man who—for better or worse—would change my life, forever. They didn’t serve alcohol at the Sugar Shack, and that night I was sat at the juice bar sipping a Coca-Cola. The club was tiny, and always packed with kids. At that moment Chuck E Starr was DJing disco, so I’d stepped off the dance floor to take a break. But I knew that soon he would drop a crowd favorite like

exclaimed as we jumped into the car. “Love the eyes!” Then with a squeal of rubber on asphalt, we were off into the night again. But not for long! At Lankershim Boulevard we came to a dead stop—there was a sea of chrome, stretching off into the distance. The night air was alive with the sound of horns honking and the screams and laughter as an impromptu party started spontaneously taking place in this insane traffic jam. Lights flashed hypnotically, shining up into the night sky with a steady

auditioning for a role. “When is Dad gonna be here?” I asked. She took a sip of her coffee and sighed. “He didn’t say, really. It could be anytime. You know your father . . .” That is all I could get out of her. Mom hadn’t said much about our dad since they announced that they were separating. The months leading up to the separation were unbearable. Their fights—which we had never been used to— were intense and heartbreaking. I remember watching my father holding my mother’s wrists as they fought

Something more terrible than anything that had happened since Dad left a month ago. I realized that the suitcases were empty. They weren’t meant for bringing things home. They were meant for taking things away. In the bedroom, I silently put the cases down. I walked over to Dad’s closet and opened it up. It looked sparse in there: Dad had taken a lot of his stuff with him when he left last month. I ran my hands across the remaining clothes—my father’s shirts, slacks, and sport coats. Taking the

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