With no real money to be made from his songs, what is Siblin’s motivation then? What is his rock ’n’ roll dream? It’s to sing, we learn on page 259 of 295, a song he had written. “It was a visceral need,” the pitchy author explains.
Think of it as the Badly Tuned Lyre of Orpheus, or the Myth of the Off-Key Sirens: Bad Singer is an essential tale about how human beings, even those of us with tin ears, can’t help but be drawn to music.
The thickly bound format is ideally read in bed. This is just the kind of book to shut out the world with a sense of Scandinavian comfort.
...movie buffs will find her scholarship wanting, if not mystifying. Not only are there few new insights (Spielberg declined to be interviewed, which left Haskell “stung, a little red-faced, like a girl angling for a date and being rejected”), but the points she makes range from dubious to flat-out false.
But this memoir is satisfying in a way that a Hughes film never could be, and the author's story will be achingly familiar to anyone who relied on Hollywood for a respite from reality but who came away disappointed.
The picture may be a bit too rosy; post-breakup, Robertson was permanently at odds with the late Levon Helm over publishing credits. The author addresses the issue but not the fallout. Essential for any devotee of the Band, Dylan, or rock music in the last half of the 20th century.
More than a mere guidebook, this is Bianculli's bible of TV — a wise, engaging celebration of a type of entertainment that's as much of an art form as it is a pastime.
...despite the robots, the story he is telling here is a deeply human one about endings and beginnings, about growing up and the loss of innocence that is a necessary corollary to that. And I know it might not sound like it, but it is beautiful.
These scrapbooks take you into every corner of Bawden’s long life...What an eye he had – for absolutely everything. Wondrous almanacs of one man’s sensibility, their every page bulges with interest and beauty.
Abramovic writes touchingly about romantic heartbreak, about the pain of separation from Ulay and her sense of betrayal when her husband, the Italian artist Paolo Canevari, left her...Perhaps what’s most unexpected are the flashes of humor.
Overall, Collins’s memoir is breezy and self-deprecating. When he lists his failures as a husband and father — especially in the final chapters, about a recent and near-fatal slide into alcoholism — he gets uncharacteristically serious.
In this brief biography, Peter Ackroyd highlights Hitchcock’s Jesuitical secondary school education at St Ignatius College in north London...For all its insight, Peter Ackroyd’s biography is a deft synthesis of numerous other studies of “Alfred the Great”; it is well written, however, and unusually well attuned to the religious element.
Fans of Broad City will find Jacobson’s signature silliness and absurdity on display here. The book’s only flaw is that it’s too short.
The more you read on, the better it gets. With the mention of a Milford here, a Packard there and then a Martell, there’s plenty of back story and much more besides.
In an author’s note Parton exhorts young readers, bullies and victims alike, to have understanding hearts and find comfort in knowing that hurts can heal. Tender and heartfelt with a loving message—if a little sanitized.
As a study in creativity, superb, though as memoir, partial and a touch reluctant. Whatever the case, essential for any Beach Boys fan.
We learn as well about the perils and inconveniences of celebrity, his deep affection for his wife and daughter, and losses (parents, others). He ends with an account of his recent stage performance as Lyndon Johnson. The highs here—and there are many—are meth-less but addictive.
For dedicated readers with the patience for philosophy and oblique reasoning, the work offers intriguing insights into how we might understand art and religion as two modes of the same creative impulse.
Over 680 pages in length, Shock and Awe is a suitably (ridiculously?) gargantuan study of “a time when pop was titanic, idolatrous, unsane, a theatre of inflamed artifice and grandiose gestures”.
Rock writing rarely tells us properly what a band treading water or in slow decline feels like from the inside. Hook does so memorably.