Well. It wasn't awful. Just the sort of book that would get a warm review in People magazine. There's enough dope smoking and casual sex to lock in thWell. It wasn't awful. Just the sort of book that would get a warm review in People magazine. There's enough dope smoking and casual sex to lock in the types of readers who feel compelled to read out of a sense of cultural obligation.
Oh, and I was planning on giving this book four stars because of the way Halpin portrayed each character's internal dialog and thereby keeping up the level of soap-operatic suspense. But I see that the author himself has written a glowing review of his own book and given it five stars. Wow. So here's three stars to even it out.
Halpin, if you're reading this (and based on the fact that you're inflating the ratings of your own book, I expect you will), I'd just like to say this: Lose the review of your own book. You might have hoped that Goodreads users that came across it would consider it cute and amusing, but, man: it smacks of ballot-stuffing desperation. Drop the review, and I'll restore the extra star that the book truly deserves....more
I don't know. Maybe I'm not all that interested in tell-all books. Maybe this just wasn't salacious enough for dirty ol' me. But these interviews withI don't know. Maybe I'm not all that interested in tell-all books. Maybe this just wasn't salacious enough for dirty ol' me. But these interviews with groupies young and old just sounded an awful lot like two car salesmen in their 40's reminiscing about the perfect golden football season they lived in high school.
"And then I scored the winning touchdown and the crowd roared and the team screamed our victory to the skies and then Jesus looked down from on high and gave me a big ol' thumbs-up and then my cheerleader ran up to me and we kissed forever. Wanna do Burger King for lunch?"
The older ladies tended to wax philosophic about their blowjob distribution. Okay, whatever. Maybe showing pink to the boys in Zeppelin really was a life-affirming spiritual and emotional experience. But the younger gals just appeared to be burned-out emotional wrecks whose childhoods were so horrific that their only escape was to imagine that Axl Rose or Kid Rock would someday pluck them from the audience and be their penis daddy.
I personally know some would-be musicians who would love these accounts, but because I don't wanna watch them wipe the drool off of their descriptions of the "best parts" of the book, I won't be recommending this book to them....more
With the exception of The Color of Magic, this is the only Discworld novel I did not like. I'm not entirely sure why; maybe when compared with the lofWith the exception of The Color of Magic, this is the only Discworld novel I did not like. I'm not entirely sure why; maybe when compared with the lofty subject matter Pratchett has tackled in the other books, a fantasy novel about rock music seemed frivolous. Pratchett definitely belabored the Elf jokes (you'd recognize them); really, once was enough, and twice was pushing it. Past that, I was telling the pages that I got the joke, and would they cut it out. They didn't listen.
However, if I appreciated anything about the book, it was his description of the blues: It was sad music. But it waved the sadness like a battle flag. It said the universe had done all it could but you were still alive.