Part of me hates to give this only one star because it's not like it's terribly written, but the fact is I couldn't even get past the first 50 pages or so because I disliked the set-up so much. I just couldn't believe in any of it--it all felt like the sort of braggy, exaggerated, fantasy versions of things that someone who is desperately trying appear cooler than they think they actually are will come out with. It was all just too much--the rock star dad, the genius mother, the 900 album vinyl collection of a ten-or-twelve-or-however-many-years-old-she-supposedly-was-at-the-time kid, the jaded yet hopeful attitude, the job at the age of 14, the spiky hair, the Blondie tee shirt, the perfect version of a Tchaikovsy symphony... I just didn't buy any of it. And then there was the stereotypically snobby record store clerk behavior and the constant ranting about corporate America on top of that. It just felt like there was too much message and too many details and too much that was too over-the-top getting in the way of whatever story it is that Prinz is trying to tell here. It all just came across as flat and obnoxious and fake to me. Beh. Not interested.