Idol Reading: Elton John and Leif Garrett

I rather like the tandem review format; it seems many books I read share a common theme, particularly those that aren't about the same subject. These memoirs are by two of the biggest names of the 70s.

Me by Elton John So I have an Elton John story. Sometime in the mid-00s I had a job with a web design firm. One of the firm's clients was an entertainment venue; we handled site updates and support, but a third-party server hosted the site. It came to pass that Elton was scheduled for a special performance there - a big deal since it wasn't a large venue and...well, it's Elton. The venue site was to sell tickets direct, which was important because it meant they'd profit more from those sales than from other vendors. Well, you can guess what happened the day of the sale. Site crashes, go boom. Both of my bosses are away at a meeting to renew a contract with another client, and both decided to turn off their phones because...well, Important Meeting. I'm the girl who answers the phone and never touches the venue client, and on this day I'm answering angry phone calls that are coming every five minutes. It means nothing that the crash is a server issue we cannot control. I'm the only one in the office. It's my problem to solve. For every phone call I make to the server company, I get two back from the client. Tick tock, they're losing ticket sales and people are calling them. When my boss turns on his phone, he discovers dozens of voicemails from me calling him every horrible name that comes to mind. My degree is in English; I know lot of words. Once we manage to get the site fixed the show is sold out. My boss told me later that our contact informed him that due to the botched sale, "Elton is so mad at you." I can't tell you if Elton still bears a grudge. I did learn, while reading Me, that he makes no mention of this incident, so perhaps the hard feelings have softened. Or else, this story isn't worth mentioning in the same tome as Elton's lifelong journey to a good place. Me is a thoughtfully written history rich in insecurities and yearning for acceptance, white powder, and serendipitous fortunes. It's not without a few mysteries that remain so, either - Elton's reluctance to go deep into his brief marriage to Renate Blauel inspires questions, yet ultimately they give way to admiration for the way he protects those memories. I must admit, I came into this book expecting more bravado and brag - attitude to match the costumes - but at the end you meet a person of great generosity and talent who, despite having the love of millions of fans, wants the love of family. The book surprised me and I'm glad I took the time to read it. I'm also sorry about the tickets, even though I really had nothing to do...eh, forget it. Rating: A

Idol Truth: a Memoir by Leif Garrett I should have memories of Leif Garrett, but I don't. It's strange given that, although his tenure as a teen idol was brief, it happened in a time where other names I can recall were elevated. I remember the Cassidy brothers, Andy Gibb, Donny Osmond, and pre-Thriller Michael Jackson, and their music. I remember the blinding gaudiness of 70s variety television, which was Leif's milieu. I just don't remember seeing or hearing much. Garrett wrote Idol Truth, as he explains in the foreword, to talk about what really went down during the handling of his teen idol career, basically negating some of what VH1's Behind the Music told us. Garrett delivers a personal history of minute details in very short paragraphs, and a searing indictment of his management team - people more concerned with profit than his well-being. We can tsk at Garrett's long stretch of drug abuse and womanizing, but considering the lack of authority watching out for the welfare of a child (yes, a person under 18 is a child, and this industry pushed Garrett into situations most adults never experience) may just leave you shuddering. Be aware of a number of content warnings: underage sex, drugs, suicide talk. The brevity of chapters in Idol Truth make Garrett's story read like a long arc of vignettes and you may finish in a day. However, this did make the narrative a bit choppy for me, more so with a number of repetitions in the story. Rating: C

All Hail the Queens

Try as I might to conquer IRL stuff, it gets the best of me. I keep on reading, keep on chiseling away at this site. I read these a while back and let them linger in my mind. They seem to go together; you may want to read them in tandem yourself.

A Song For You: My Life With Whitney Houston by Robyn Crawford I didn't know what to expect going into A Song For You. While I didn't follow Whitney Houston's career, or the tabloid press that hounded her in life and death, I picked up things here and there. I'd heard lesbian rumors, I'd heard her family had her in a metaphorical headlock for much of her career, I heard her death might have been an Illuminati sacrifice (seriously, Google it but don't tell them I sent you). With regards to the first two items, Robyn Crawford uses this opportunity to clear some air, and it's not done in a sordid way. This book reads in a sincere voice, one that almost breaks at the sad parts if you can hear it in your mind. I get that what Robyn felt for Whitney transcended friendship, camaraderie... and her frustration at watching the Houston family's treatment of the singer is palpable. It simmers, but I get the impression she is holding back a greater anger, and perhaps the sordid details people whisper on the Internet. It's like Crawford is caught between wanting to tell the truth and wanting to protect Whitney, even though nothing can touch her anymore, and in the end mourning her inability to prevent a tragic end. Rating: B

God Save the Queens: The Essential History of Women in Hip-Hop by Kathy Iandoli I love that a book like this exists. Iandoli is a journalist with decades of immersion in the hip-hop scene, and the result of her knowledge and access to influential figures in the genre is this comprehensive history. Iandoli traces the timeline of women's involvement in rap from parties in apartment building common rooms to jaw-dropping response records (read: The Roxanne Wars - I hadn't realized there was more than one "Roxanne" out there) to the present day. Iandoli's style is loose and engaging, injected with a touch of humor - a quick jab to readers waiting to "get to the chapter about Nicki Minaj" made me smile - and acknowledgement that the book might not be 100% complete. It may only mean there are still stories to discover, and perhaps a revised edition will appear one day. Rating: A-

The Beautiful Ones by Prince

Oh, where do I even begin?

Don't take that the wrong way, now. The Beautiful Ones is many things. It's a glimpse into the life of one of the most fascinating people of our time. It's a weighty delight, filled with snapshots in muted 70's colors. It's a revelation, a peek at the foundation of what we loved best about Prince.

More than that, it's an attempt at something big, and a sad reminder of mortality. Prince's name is above the title, and his spirit is present here, but one can only wonder what we could have had if he lived long enough to put more of himself into this book.

Prince was to have collaborated with journalist Dan Piepenbring on The Beautiful Ones. In reading Piepenbring's lengthy introduction, we learn that Prince had several handwritten pages and a specific vision for a book. Prince wanted to end racism with it, and in asking Piepenbring to define "racism" he got a textbook answer. Despite that, he agreed to work with the man.

If you were to ask me what racism is, I would say fear. Fear is an amazing motivator that drives one to self-preservation. Fear of poverty, for example, might lead a person to hoard money and buy generic, rent movies from the library and pack lunches. I believe some take it further through aggressive behavior designed to keep certain people from succeeding, if only to maintain one's higher (safe) status. I can't speak for Prince, but maybe he wanted to eliminate that fear through his work, as though to say we can all stand in the same place without worry.

We will never know the true content of this book. What we have is a story in four parts, one of which belongs to Piepenbring. I doubt we'd have seen such a long introduction had Prince lived, and in this intro is the concern that a book without Prince would become nothing more than a collection of things.

That's what we have here, though. It's nice to see the pictures and the original treatment of Purple Rain, but I thought the heart of the book rested in the actual pages Prince wrote, which are presented here as scans of his handwriting and in text. This is a graphic heavy book, best read in print or in a good reading app, and once you pass this section you may be tempted to skim the rest if squinting to read cursive isn't your thing.

I enjoyed what I read, but on the same note I mourned what could have been. That's why I find it challenge to rate The Beautiful Ones. An A for content and especially Prince's contribution and B- for execution, though I can't fault Prince or Piepenbring for that. I don't want to make a habit of not rating books, but in this case (like with Neil Peart's Far and Wide) I'm abstaining.

Far and Wide: Bring That Horizon To Me by Neil Peart

We lost Neil Peart. Several days after the fact, I can think of very little to say about it except, "Fuck."

Since the news broke almost ten days ago, I've read many lovely tributes from fans and close friends, musicians and industry people. There's a sad consensus in all of the eulogies: Peart was a professional in every sense, not necessarily a person who chased fame but acknowledged that much of what he had came from it. Even that wasn't enough to stop death. Rush fans grudgingly accepted the band was done as far as records and tours, but that didn't mean the actual end. I had known there were hopes to see film adaptations of some of Neil's books. Ghost Rider had been optioned at one point, and members of a fan board had Tom Hanks cast in the lead. That was years ago, though. Colin Hanks would be a more logical pick now.

Neil was not as public as his bandmates, and that's okay. In life he slipped away from us after shows; a quick wave and off to the nearest exit to ride away while the rest of us stayed for the outro video. He kept it up until the very last day.

There's a passage in his last travelogue, Far and Wide, that talks a bit of other drummers to whom Peart is compared and listed among best of the best - Dennis Wilson, John Bonham, Keith Moon. Each suffered an untimely end due to different excesses, none of them making it to 40. Rush fans, having followed the exploits of "our boys" for decades, wouldn't expect any of them to meet a tragic fate of the rock and roll variety, but I think it's safe to say nobody expected cancer to fell our drummer.

At 67. Three years after retirement. In the brain. We call him The Professor for a reason, and for cancer to strike him there has quite a cruel edge to it. It fucking sucks.

I've read most of Peart's books; not all are reviewed here. Some I've enjoyed, others I've critiqued. If I had to pick a favorite, it would be one of the Far series. I finished Far and Wide recently as part of a book group read, a spontaneous choice following Peart's death. It's an optimistic book, one that's almost painful to read given the context. Wide collects Peart's road essays covering the final tour, and is laced with wistful memories of roads already traveled and the revelation that he will enjoy the time spent with his young daughter more.

I said this fucking sucks, right? It's not entirely clear how long after the tour Peart learned of his illness, but it's safe to say he spent what should have been his well-earned retirement fighting it. Wide appears to have been produced as a work of promise for a new journey, but I worry it may be looked on more as a bittersweet coda. Like when Charles Schulz died after drawing his last strip.

It also happens that my reading this coincides with my own father's declining health. I was fortunate to have him around longer, but the loss is no less painful for me. A lot of memes circulating my social feeds implore us to not feel sad, but to smile for having breathed the same air as Rush, and having the music. I should feel the same way about my own dad, and perhaps the pain will lighten in time.

For young Olivia, too.

I won't rate this book right now, but I do recommend it.

Anatomy of a Song: The Oral History of 45 Iconic Hits That Changed Rock, R&B and Pop by Marc Myers

If you aspire to write songs, you may look on Anatomy of a Song as part guide and part inspiration. This book is a collection of select columns penned by Marc Myers for The Wall Street Journal, which - if they are produced intact here - feature more input from the songwriters than the columnist. The 45 songs chosen, as noted in the introduction, aren't offered as a "best of" list of popular songs but an assortment from which readers can learn of different processes and perhaps discover a new-to-them artist.

It's definitely an interesting lineup. You'll hop from the harmonious early 60s hit "Chapel of Love" to the Kinks' "You Really Got Me," on down through the decades to land on REM's "Losing My Religion." Depending on your tastes, you'll be drawn to some stories more than others - I paid more attention reading up on Steely Dan, Aerosmith, and other acts toward the end of the rock spectrum. I don't which columns didn't make the cut, but I had few quarrels with the table of contents. I mean, I like Bonnie Raitt fine, but I'm not sure how "Nick of Time" qualifies as a song that changed rock. It certainly changed the course of her career, but maybe that was the point.

Rating: B+

About the Book

Every great song has a fascinating backstory. And here, writer and music historian Marc Myers brings to life five decades of music through oral histories of forty-five era-defining hits woven from interviews with the artists who created them, including such legendary tunes as the Isley Brothers’ Shout, Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love, Janis Joplin’s Mercedes Benz, and R.E.M’s Losing My Religion.

After receiving his discharge from the army in 1968, John Fogerty did a handstand—and reworked Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony to come up with Proud Mary. Joni Mitchell remembers living in a cave on Crete with the mean old daddy who inspired her 1971 hit Carey. Elvis Costello talks about writing (The Angels Wanna Wear My) Red Shoes in ten minutes on the train to Liverpool. And Mick Jagger, Jimmy Page, Rod Stewart, the Clash, Jimmy Cliff, Roger Waters, Stevie Wonder, Keith Richards, Cyndi Lauper, and many other leading artists reveal the emotions, inspirations, and techniques behind their influential works.

Anatomy of a Song is a love letter to the songs that have defined generations of listeners and “a rich history of both the music industry and the baby boomer era” (Los Angeles Times Book Review).

Janis: Her Life and Music by Holly George-Warren

It didn't hit me until reading the acknowledgements section of this biography that Janis Joplin didn't have a long career. Yeah, I know all about the 27 Club, yada yada, but she joined that only after four years of professional work. Three albums in her lifetime, followed by decades of posthumous releases that stand testament to quite a legacy. A good third of the hardcover edition of Janis is notes and the index, indicating that what remains in actual biography is thoroughly detailed.

I like Joplin's work; I have Pearl and a greatest hits album. I liked this book as well. It's the first Joplin bio I've read, and it's written in a loving manner. It's appropriate, I think, and you'll appreciate it given what Joplin endured in her short life. Hers is a story people should know, particularly in this time of questioning gender norms and supporting people in marginalized groups. Knowing Joplin's story helps my appreciation of her music as well; George-Warren shows us a woman who readily credited the people who influenced her (Bessie Smith and Lead Belly for two) and lifted them up through her voice.

She packed a hell of a lot of living in 27 years, too. It's not a life I could live - Joplin is quoted as saying she'd rather check out after an explosive decade than live to be 70 and boring. I'm fine with the latter - it gives me time to read. In a way, I suppose I'm living the quiet part of life Joplin craved at one point.

That aside, I enjoyed Janis for it's objective storytelling and detail. It's a microcosmic history, a nice puzzle piece fitting into the overall 60s scene.

Rating: A

About the Book: Janis Joplin’s first transgressive act was to be a white girl who gained an early sense of the power of the blues, music you could only find on obscure records and in roadhouses along the Texas and Louisiana Gulf Coast. But even before that, she stood out in her conservative oil town. She was a tomboy who was also intellectually curious and artistic. By the time she reached high school, she had drawn the scorn of her peers for her embrace of the Beats and her racially progressive views. Her parents doted on her in many ways, but were ultimately put off by her repeated acts of defiance.

Janis Joplin has passed into legend as a brash, impassioned soul doomed by the pain that produced one of the most extraordinary voices in rock history. But in these pages, Holly George-Warren provides a revelatory and deeply satisfying portrait of a woman who wasn’t all about suffering. Janis was a perfectionist: a passionate, erudite musician who was born with talent but also worked exceptionally hard to develop it. She was a woman who pushed the boundaries of gender and sexuality long before it was socially acceptable. She was a sensitive seeker who wanted to marry and settle down—but couldn’t, or wouldn’t. She was a Texan who yearned to flee Texas but could never quite get away—even after becoming a countercultural icon in San Francisco.

Written by one of the most highly regarded chroniclers of American music history, and based on unprecedented access to Janis Joplin’s family, friends, band mates, archives, and long-lost interviews, Janis is a complex, rewarding portrait of a remarkable artist finally getting her due.

Reading in Rock 2018-2019

Nobody will be happier than I to see this decade end. While I realize the next set of ten doesn't officially begin until 2021, I'm calling it here. The Tweens were okay, but the Teens for the most part can go soak. Stuff happened, and stuff kept me from things that gave me joy. Some of this stuff remains in my head, and it's my goal in the 20s to shake away the stuff and get my groove back.

What peeves me at the moment is that some of this stuff currently clings to the wings of the plane flying us the eff out of this year. I won't elaborate because I'd prefer not to speak bad juju into this space. Know that I intend to reclaim daily joy, and it starts here.

First, I had to discern where my joy truly lives. Is it in writing, publishing, general creativity, where? A good chunk of it, I realize, comes in reading. I feel happy knowing a book on hold at the library is available. I feel happy when I check my library hold queue and see my position moving up on the titles I want to read. Check this out:

I'm third up for the Prince book. I was 9th for the longest time. The Elton John book...still first in line but it seems like months. I don't know if somebody is sitting on the book, or if the librarians are passing it around first or what. I had other books leapfrog it in line. Something has to give soon.

As you see, three of these titles are relevant to this blog. I will review them there as I read them. I did note on my home site the reasons why I stopped reviewing, but you know what? Eff that noise. There is a movement in a specific genre where a spirit of doxxing and harassment has clouded the community. Some people now view critiques of books as personal attacks, and as such reviewing has suffered.

I love books. I love to talk about books. I do not believe a negative or unenthusiastic review destroys careers or discourages sales. I've purchased books despite negative reviews. I have written books. Some people hate them. Whatevs. Certain people have given me grief for years; I didn't die.

Consider this a toxic cleanse. I want to talk about books in 2020, but as I am chronically early why wait?

While I Was Out...

I may come back and talk about these in depth later, but perimenopause brain fog is a bitch. While you were watching Bojack Horseman and/or writing thinkpieces about the Star Wars, I spent the last two years reading over 150 books, including these seven:

Paul McCartney: The Life by Philip Norman I noted on Goodreads that I enjoyed this bio more than I did the other McCartney book I've read (it's reviewed here). Norman's bio of John Lennon has stayed with me somewhat as well, and at times I've had his books on Jagger and Clapton on hold. I may be due for a general re-read of Norman's works to refresh my memory, but what I can recall of this: it didn't come off as a character assassination piece. Granted, Paul's no angel, but I recall some objective atmosphere with this book. Rating: B+

Thanks a Lot, Mr. Kibblewhite by Roger Daltrey This was my first read of 2019. It's not as long as Pete's brick of a memoir, and from what I recall it's not as meticulously detailed. Still, I learned new things from Roger's story and remain amazed that I can be charmed by people who do not always deserve the attention. These are rock stars who do rock star things, and shrug off what causes most of us vanilla peeps to clutch our pearls. Anyway, if you're a fast reader this is a two-day splurge at best. Rating: B

Geddy Lee's Big Beautiful Book of Bass I do wish I could have attended a signing. This is a coffee table book, beautifully photographed and presented as a practical bible of the instrument. It's not solely for Rush fans, but any person who appreciates the bass. I like the idea of this book, because you find the bass - any instrument - is artwork, and offers diversity in a song as much as it is a stable line the lead guitar can wrap around. Rating: A

The Roof: The Beatles' Final Concert by Ken Mansfield When I need cheer, I go to YouTube and search for this concert. I wondered what a book like this could tell me that I couldn't discern from the actual footage. I read this over a day and a half in March, and honestly the memory of it didn't stick. Author Mansfield worked for Apple at the time, so that got him upstairs. Awesome for him, but otherwise the book in my memory is a stretched-thin memoir. Rating: C

Daisy Jones & the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid This was one of the 'it' books of the year, the celebrity book club darling. It will probably become a film with Brie Larson and Chris Pine or whoever is hot in the next two years. I liked it from the standpoint of the story - 60s-70s L.A. music scene, romantic drama and a woman at the forefront. It's told in oral history style, much like Kicking and Dreaming and a few other books reviewed here. So if that type of book rankles you, be warned. Other readers speculate the story is inspired by Fleetwood Mac; it may be true, but I got some Joni Mitchell/Graham Nash vibes. Rating: B+

Face It by Debbie Harry In the non-Rush category, I would rank this my favorite of the books listed here. I see some Blondie die-hards have dismissed it as derivative of earlier books about the band, but I never followed Blondie beyond the one greatest hits CD I own. Well, that and The Muppet Show. I look at a book by a newish to me group as a learning opportunity, and what stories Debbie told interested me. Word of warning, you'll enjoy this more in print. It's graphic heavy and that doesn't always translate well to digital. Rating: B+

Backstage Pass by Paul Stanley I don't dislike this book, but I liked Face the Music more. By and large, this is a TED talk, perhaps a companion to what self-helpish books Gene has written. It's short and basically boils down to Paul telling you that people who try to bring you down can go eff themselves. He adapted "the Secret" to his own terms and now look at him. Seriously, you see Backstage Pass and think it's a deep dive into the world of KISS, but it's more of a backstage pass into Paul as Starchild the guru, and you may take something from his experiences. Rating: C

Watch for more reviews in 2020. I hope to add more diversity to this archive - stories about female artists, artists of color, and musicians who aren't necessarily big with Western audiences. Of course, if I see a Rush book I'll be on it like By-Tor on the Snow Dog. Peace.

Once There Was a Way: What if The Beatles Stayed Together? by Bryce Zabel

Buy Once There Was A Way at Amazon.

Read author Zabel's biography on Goodreads, and you'll find an impressive resume steeped in sci-fi and speculative fiction, and it's not limited to book format. Once There Was A Way is an alternative history, and while it is a work of fiction I hesitate to call it a novel. It's not a narrative in the traditional sense, like previous Beatle-related fiction reviewed here. Ian R. MacLeod's Snodgrass stands out in my mind because it also asks "what if?" That story followed John Lennon in a life of near squalor, having left The Beatles before reaching any level of international fame. Once offers not just a "what if" but "what could have been."

The book begins in 1968 at the dawn of the Apple age, with John and Paul about to announce its genesis on The Tonight Show. Immediately the trajectory veers from actual history. Reality shows (or it would, if the full footage still existed) John and Paul had to settle that night for a substitute host, Joe Garagiola. Book John and Book Paul have enough sense to hold out for the real thing, and Carson jumps.

From there we're treated to a story laid out in lengthy Behind The Music style as The Beatles flirt with divorce but ultimately agree to probationary periods of togetherness for the sake of keeping Apple viable and solvent. They agree to completing film and album commitments, yet take turns gazing longingly at the exit. Unlike bands that stay together for the paycheck despite passing their prime, The Beatles continue to spin gold.

Zabel threads in non-events ingrained in band lore (the invitation to Woodstock, the Lord of the Rings adaptation) and makes them happen. As the band's life span lengthens, so some of the individual achievements in song become those of the group. Some moments in the story seem almost too far-fetched and Forrest Gump, even for speculative fiction, but as escapism it inspires a smile.

My big issue with the book was the style. Once I realized I didn't have a straight narrative story I felt apprehensive about following through. The strength of Once There Was A Way comes in the characters. If you're big on The Beatles you're more likely to enjoy this than a non-fan. After getting through the initial chapter about The Tonight Show, I found my groove and finished this with good speed.

As for how long The Beatles remain together in this book, and who survives to the end, I won't spoil it. I will say Zabel's ending probably reflects the feelings of a number of fans who had hoped for more after 1970.

An ARC from Netgalley was received from the publisher for the purpose of this review.

Rating: B-

Kathryn Lively is looking for her next book to read.