I'm a Hendrix fan, not completely casual and not on the fanatic side of fan. I was hoping for a good read. A well rounded portrait of the man and the artist. I wanted to like this book, I really did but it never seemed to be more than people who had a passing acquaintance sharing an anecdote about the brief moment they spoke to him, saw him in concert, or the two seconds he may have smiled at them. On the positives, there was no muck racking, no character assassination, no tabloid supposition. Just not what I wanted it to be.