Face It

Emerging in the 1970s as lead singer of the rock band Blondie, Debbie Harry challenged expectations of women in popular music, forging a unique identity that would influence artists – regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation – in the decades since. While Harry is known to be quite private, as she reminds us in the final pages of her new memoir, "Face It" the book is an in-depth exploration of her story and a treat for readers who might – and should – be curious about one of the significant artists of the rock era.

Generally, this book is well-written and direct, much like Harry herself. From an early age, Harry has been a tough, no bull-shit type of person. Anecdote after anecdote only confirms this impression. Harry's story here is certainly thorough, with very few avenues from her life and career left unexplored.

The level of disclosure can be startling at moments – Harry mentions a boyfriend who ripped off her clothes and began aggressively fondling her, leaving her simultaneously horrified and turned on; as he backed off, another guy lurched from the shadows to film her while, as she confesses, she was hot and "wet." Elsewhere is the casual mention of her first experience taking heroin, its usefulness in blotting out the world, and how nothing in the world was more effective or felt better.

"Face It" is also a love letter of sorts to New York City, much like the excellent "Beastie Boys Book" (by surviving band members Adam Horovitz and Mike Diamond) from 2018. Similar to the Beasties, Harry's detail in recalling NYC is evocative enough to place us there with her. An adopted child raised in New Jersey, she moved to NYC to become an artist of some sort, eventually immersing herself in experimental and avant-garde music – describing the first time she saw the Velvet Underground and mingling with other musicians and artists in that particular sphere. Harry also worked as a waitress at the legendary Max's Kansas City, waiting on musicians such as Miles Davis.

Also at that time, she joined and made music as part of more psychedelic-oriented bands, ultimately becoming dissatisfied with being only part of a collective. Eventually, she determined that she wanted to move more toward rock. Harry's descriptions illustrate what her experience was like in determining she was really a musician. Seeing the New York Dolls play a club show – while simultaneously trying to shake off a disturbing stalker of an ex-boyfriend (about whom "One Way or Another" was written) and meeting future Blondie collaborator, musical soulmate and, for a time, boyfriend Chris Stein – had an impact: She wanted to be like the Dolls in a time where she didn't see any female-fronted NYC bands among her peers. Somewhere in the midst of all this she also became a Playboy bunny for a short time.

Aside from the Velvets and the Dolls, Harry's mentioning of other bands – such as Television and the Ramones (and many more) – that worked NYC clubs gives insight into the city's burgeoning rock scene, one that often centered on the legendary CBGB's, where a number of these bands played. It was after opening for the Ramones that Harry's and Stein's current band became Blondie (initially Blondie and the Banzai Babies, the last four words of which were quickly dropped). And this is where Harry's and Stein's manifesto quickly became crystalized: Through covering disco songs such as Labelles' "Lady Marmalade" in more of a rock style, Harry wanted to "bring dancing back to rock." And more than any of their peers, Blondie – to this day – has been responsible for hybridizing rock with forms of R&B, funk, soul, disco, and electronic music.

Of course, this memoir wouldn't be complete without exposing the misogynistic underbelly of the music industry, as illustrated by a full-size ad in NYC of Harry alone – no band members – with nipples exposed in a see-through dress. This led to a run-in with an executive, and, of course, an obvious double standard (Harry shot back at him, "what if your balls were exposed?," to which he replied, "That's disgusting!"). There's a lot about image in these pages, and especially in navigating an industry in which Harry had to be confrontational with men in power – being cute, she says, doesn't mean you're an idiot.

Harry elaborates on the influence of Marilyn Monroe (creating a persona, as Monroe did, to perform publicly) and rap (a style Harry loves, and rightfully describes as running parallel to punk); encounters with Phil Spector (echoing a lot of other peoples' creepy experiences with the incarcerated legend) and Patti Smith (who had the audacity to chide Blondie over drummer Clem Burke's successful audition to join the band). She also elaborates on touring with David Bowie and Iggy Pop in the late 1970s, and her friendships with Joan Jett (a highlight: She relates her particularly sharp response to an ABC interview during which Stein was asked a bunch of sexist questions with Harry sitting right there). Also: John Waters (starring in his film "Hairspray"), and artists such as Jean-Michel Basquiat and Andy Warhol. None of this is crass name-dropping. Rather, all of these stories illustrate not only where Harry – and Blondie as a band – fit into the nexus of NYC music and art of that particular time, but also why this was such a significant era in the history of popular culture.

As a consequence – or maybe as a benefit to readers who don't really care about such details – there isn't a lot of time spent on the music. There are no long-winded recollections of time in the studio making albums. But when the music is discussed, it's usually succinct and focused on the band's development in a very short period of time (albums two and three, "Plastic Letters" and "Parallel Lines," were both released in 1978; the latter of which is considered one of the great albums of the rock era, and rightfully so). If anything, she tends to give more detail on the band's post-"Parallel Lines" albums, where they pushed the boundaries of their art while trying to maintain commercial success.

There are also anecdotes of the band turning in records only to be told by a record company head that the album contained no hits – albums such as "Eat to the Beat" and "Autoamerican," which spawned Blondie classics such as "Dreaming," "Atomic," "The Tide is High," and "Rapture." Harry also talks about key moments in her solo career in the '80s and '90s, particularly the joys of working with Nile Rodgers and Bernard Edwards for her "Koo Koo" album (1981), the Thompson Twins for "Def, Dumb and Blonde" (1989), and more.

A key part of Harry's story is how, in 1983, Stein became deathly ill with the autoimmune disease Pemphigus Vulgaris. In Blondie's 1999 episode of VH1 Behind the Music, the details of this nightmare were glossed over in a way that Harry fleshes out in more horrific detail here, especially in how heroin was used to cope and ease Stein's pain. Prior to this, Harry mentions heroin enough to be intrigued but, aside from using it during Stein's illness and recovery, she never fully divulges its impact on her. Not to be voyeuristic, as she certainly covers a lot of ground in this book, but her experience with heroin ends up sounding less like addiction and more like dabbling. It might be safe to assume that if there were a lesson for readers to learn, Harry would disclose it here.

On the other hand, there are moments where such reserve has a stronger impact – for instance, mention of the lawsuit former band members Frank Infante and Nigel Harrison brought against Blondie when the band reunited without them in 1999 is limited here to one paragraph. Ouch. And then Harry moves on to describe Blondie's second run, beginning with their excellently eclectic "No Exit" in 1999 and continuing up through their most recent work (their 2017 album "Pollinator" ranks among the band's very best).

Refreshingly, Harry has no problem saying she can't remember somebody's or something's name, instead of going to great lengths to be totally complete in instances that are really inconsequential. Also, the book is put together beautifully, including plenty of fan paintings and previously unseen photographs of Harry. One particular highlight is a photo of Harry with Siouxsie Sioux (of Siouxsie and the Banshees), Viv Albertine (of punk band The Slits), Pauline Black (singer and author), Poly Styrene (of punk band X-Ray Spex) and Chrissie Hynde (of rock band The Pretenders) – six of the most compelling artists of their time, all sitting together. One can only imagine what that evening must've been like.

"Face It" is a compelling recollection, a book that Harry was initially reluctant to write - but, thankfully, she did. Written in her own inimitable voice – for fans, it will be easy to hear her voice while reading – it's difficult to imagine anyone telling Harry's story in quite the same way.

"Face It"
by Debbie Harry
$26 (hardcover)
Dey Street