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It could happen to any of us, really: One moment you’re the internationally recognized superstar singer for one of the biggest rock bands in history, the next you don’t remember cranking out an entire autobiography you somehow wrote in between dance rehearsals and practicing sexy pouting in front of the mirror. Oh, and some cocaine, too, probably. Regardless, that’s the situation Mick Jagger finds himself in. The Times reports the Rolling Stones frontman actually penned a 75,000-word memoir in the early ‘80s, but when publisher John Blake, who was given the book back in 2014, approached Jagger to authenticate the memoir—after initially being told he would pen a new foreword about how the recollections were written “long ago and far away“—eventually met with the equivalent of wild horses dragging the manuscript away from publication.


And unlike the normal situation where you or I write 75,000 words about ourselves and then lose all memory of having done so, Jagger’s memoir actually contains interesting anecdotes people might like to know about. For example, Blake says the book includes details of the tedium of looking at Keith Richards’ “scraggy, monkey-like bottom night after night.” He also bought a mansion while high on acid, and leapt onto a stallion that roared off “like it was a Ferrari.” And sure, those are the kinds of events that might be significant life events for the average human, but when you’ve forgotten more TV appearances than most people have watched in their entire lives, it’s just another decade or so of jaw-dropping experiences to be cast aside like so many empty eight balls. Blake says it’s unlikely we’ll see it any time soon, but he can’t confirm whether we’ll all get a similar chance to forget Jagger’s mid-80s solo career.