Add It Up- Violent Femmes' Violent Femmes by Nic Brown (33 1/3)

 Violent Femmes' Violent Femmes by Nic Brown (33 1/3 series)

Violent Femmes cover

Author and musician Nic Brown

Big thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for making the latest entry into the 33 1/3 series available for preview. Nic Brown’s Violent Femmes’ Violent Femmes is a wonderful addition to the 33 1/3 series, hitting all of the right notes in providing the argument as to why this seminal 80s album is fit to be included in the series. Brown, whose experience as both a musician and writer, enables him to view the music and album from a critical perspective, still brings a relatable and engaging perspective for anyone who grew up listening to alternative music in the late 80s and early 90s. As Brown notes, the music on this album seemed to be everywhere in the days of Gen X’s adolescence, and its unique blend of punk, jazz, and folk music both made the album hard to classify, and yet so appealing and iconoclastic. I loved that Brown begins the book reflecting on hearing “Blister in the Sun” not on the radio or in a store, but rather interpreted by the organist in a baseball stadium, and that the crowd seemingly knows to how to respond to the organist’s call with a rhythmic double clap emulating the da-dum of the original’s snare intro. It’s a point for Brown to both reflect on the legacy of this song and album, but also to wonder how things got to this point where a song about big hands and stained sheets has made its way into the cultural consciousness. Furthermore, I could relate to Brown’s introduction to the album, via his friend’s older sister who was playing the tape while Brown was over. I remember being around the same age and spending the summer at a pool club where all the kids would bring boom boxes. While my box rocked PE and EMPD, there was competition from the Violent Femmes (and The Cure), who provided an alternative sound for that summer that definitely called to me. It would be another few years until I hit high school and eventually ended up buying the tape to play in my car. I’m not sure if it was Ethan Hawke singing “Add It Up” in Reality Bites, but I gradually got to love all of the songs on that album, playing it regularly in my car while driving around or heading to school or work. There was such an energy and freneticism to the music that wasn’t apparent in a lot of other alternative bands from the early 90s. However, since the internet wasn’t readily available in most homes at the time, there wasn’t a lot I knew about the Violent Femmes beyond this album and the song “American Music,” which was another track I loved from a compilation that was also in my car rotation.

Brown’s book helps to fill in most of the details about the band, its formation, and the recording and creation of the album. Like most of the great 33 1/3 books, Brown not only examines what makes the album great, but he also examines how the album came about, starting with the formation of the group and its background in experimental theater, jazz, and showtunes. Brown recounts a great story about how Gordon Gano, the lead singer and guitarist, met with Brian Ritchie and invited him to play at Gano’s National Honors Society event the next morning. It’s a great story and beginning for the band, and it also highlights how Gano had most of the songs written for the first few Violent Femmes’ albums. From there, Brown dives into exploring the instruments used on the album, which the acoustic bass and drum set up add to the unique and iconic sounds on the album. I’ve also appreciated Gano’s guitar work, which can be both percussive and somewhat improvisational in some solos. However, Brown’s experience as a drummer provides him with the unique ear and vocabulary to examine how the instruments lead to such a meaningful and engaging sound on the album. The main focus is on Ritchie’s acoustic bass, which as Brown notes throughout the book, may be one of the most prominent and distinct bass sounds in popular rock music ever. I really appreciated the consideration of how the bass functions not only as a drum/percussive sound, but that it also takes on solos and expands the nature of the instrument, taking the music to unique and interesting places. It’s a great review and analysis of what makes this album so great.

The next two chapters explore the studio set up and how the band gained access to the studio and worked within it, and then the track listing and exploration of the songs on the album. While I enjoyed learning more about how the band worked in the studio, the chapter that focuses on the songs was probably the best, and among some of the best writing in the 33 1/3 books. Like the author, I have fond memories of this album, and so I was familiar with the songs, but since I learned about this album pre-internet, I haven’t done much research about the songs, so it was cool to learn more about their background, how Gordon Gano wrote them or what he was thinking, and how Ritchie and Victor DeLorenzo contributed to the music, adding their experiences in the experimental theater and jazz scenes of early 80s Milwaukee. I learned a lot from this chapter and gained some new perspectives on some classic songs. The last two chapters were also engaging and fun to read. There’s a chapter on how the album eventually ended up on Slash Records and its release and gradual diffusion to cultural significance, and an Epilogue in which Brown considers his own nostalgia and appreciation for the album. As an aging white guy who can relate to the others Brown observes in the Cramps t-shirts and black jeans when going to see the Violent Femmes in Atlanta, I appreciated this consideration about whether to go see the band or not, and why their music is still meaningful to him. It’s a great reflection on aging and appreciating timeless art and music, and how art and music can make us not only appreciate our youth and the days gone by but also enable us to view ourselves in new ways. Plus, there’s a great reference to a Delmore Schwartz short story, “In Dreams Begin Responsibilities,” that apparently Lou Reed made journalists read before interviewing him. Brown provides a recap, especially after Gano recommends the story. I’m excited to check it out too, and I appreciate Brown’s recommendation. This was such a fun and engaging read, and I’m glad that Bloomsbury Academic added it up to their series, ensuring that it will go down on the permanent record. Highly recommended!

A Call To Education- The Sacred Art of Teaching: The Delpit/Emdin Conversations

 The Sacred Art of Teaching: The Delpit/Emdin Conversations by Lisa Delpit and Christopher Emdin

The Sacred Art of Teaching book cover

Author and Educational Researcher Lisa Delpit

Author and Educational Researcher Christopher Emdin

Many thanks to The New Press and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of education theorists and leaders Lisa Delpit and Christopher Emdin’s new book The Sacred Art of Teaching: The Delpit/Emdin Conversations. This book was just what I needed to restore and reinvigorate me and my commitment to education. I’m not sure if the publisher and/or authors decided to have this book come out at the end of the school year, but it seems like a fitting idea as I found myself filled with gratitude and purpose after reading the conversations between two of the most influential and consequential thinkers and activists for critical teaching. I was excited to find this book since Lisa Delpit’s books were influential when I was teaching high school. Her call to recognize and elevate students’ voices in the classroom and to appreciate and leverage their cultures and communities is important for any educator, but especially those who work with students who come from different backgrounds. Delpit’s approach to teaching takes that constructivist framework, but also integrates culture, race, and language as integral elements to recognize in student learning, and those ideas shine through in these in-depth and detailed conversations she shares with fellow educator Christopher Emdin. I was also really excited to learn that Emdin was her co-conversationalist since his book For White Folks Who Teach in the Hood…and the Rest of Y’all Too was recommended to me by a fellow teacher in a human development course I was teaching. Although it’s still on my TBR list, the title grabbed my attention and, like Delpit’s work, made me appreciate that there are educators out there who recognize the importance of leveraging students’ culture, language, and race in teaching, especially when there can be cultural incongruity in the classroom. Emdin also shares similar ideas and approaches to teaching, learning and leading with Delpit that not only provide useful tips and ideas for teachers and school leaders, but also really helped reaffirm my commitment to teaching and learning.

The book is somewhat different from more traditional educational texts in that this is a series of conversations that focus on certain topics related to teaching and learning in today’s classrooms. However, these conversations gradually meander and move around the subjects, tangentially talking about other important issues in education and society, and recognizing the power and influence that teachers can have on their students’ lives. While I was grateful to learn some ideas and strategies from these experts, I didn’t expect to feel such a sense of gratitude and appreciation for teaching and learning. In fact, the authors frame teaching as not only a responsibility, but as something akin to a tradition or rite, in which educators play a part in continuing a legacy of cultural transmission that will influence future generations to come. It’s a powerful and beautiful way of framing education that I hadn’t really considered, but that also provides a stronger sense of purpose and responsibility in our work.

I appreciated hearing from both of these renowned scholar educators, who share their experience, backgrounds, and ideas for the classroom and schools. They present some great ideas about teaching and are especially interested in making learning relevant by engaging students and recognizing the kinds of experiences and interests that students bring to the classroom. I love this approach, and I think that most teachers would agree that it is essential to meet students where they are, but also to use what they are familiar with and interested in to make the learning more relevant. I also found that there were important lessons about how ego and power can impact teaching, especially when teachers are placed in a position of power in their classrooms. Nevertheless, Delpit and Emdin provide reminders about how humbling and necessary teaching can be that help to reorient teachers to the mission and vision for teaching. This was an inspirational and engaging book that teachers can pick up throughout the year or turn to a specific chapter to find some insightful and inventive ideas for the classroom. Whether it’s a struggle with making the content relevant, engaging challenging students, or rethinking assessment, this book has so many great ideas and practices for the classroom. I would imagine that this would be a great book for professional development, PLC, or a kind of inquiry community within a school. Teachers and schools would gain a lot from reading and discussing this book throughout the year. I loved that I was able to read this at the end of the academic year, and I can imagine revisiting some of the chapters during the summer to gain some ideas for the upcoming year. This is a great book for teachers, especially in service teachers, but I think it would benefit preservice teachers to learn more about the challenges of teaching and how to confront and surmount them. Highly recommended! 

Oh Those Wildwood Horrors- Body Count by Codie Crowley

 Body Count by Codie Crowley

Body Count book cover

Author Codie Crowley

Many thanks to Disney Publishing Worldwide, Disney Hyperion, and NetGalley for allowing me to read Codie Crowley’s wild Wildwood horror novel Body Count. I was so excited to find a horror/slasher book that takes place in Wildwood, NJ. Although Wildwood has evolved over the years and celebrates its 1950s heritage, it will always be the kind of gritty, tough alternative to the staid, Victorian (and boring) summer vacations of my childhood spent in Cape May. There was usually one day out of our trips to Cape May where we got to go to the Wildwood boardwalk, and it was always the highlight of my summer vacation. Everything about Wildwood was so alive and thriving compared to Cape May—the rides, the delicious boardwalks food, the people, the crazy t-shirts, the talking tramcars! Wildwood is still a fun place where I take my kids, but there always seemed to be a darker side, like something under the surface that I could feel was so different in Wildwood than Cape May. We usually visited during the day because my parents were afraid to be there at night, and it was usually after some kind of kids fight erupting on the boardwalk or a stabbing that induced further fear. However, Wildwood was also the site of one of my most memorable fears when I was a child. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if this place really existed or if it was some kind of nightmare that seeped into my consciousness, but after doing some internet research, I discovered that the Whacky Shack was a real place, and even if the scenes depicted in the ride were with dolls and mannequins, it seemed real to my 5 year old self. Maybe my older cousins took me on the ride because I know my parents would never go with me, and I was too young to go on my own. However, I was haunted for years by what I saw in the Whacky Shack, and the last sight riders see, a hand coming up from the toilet, was forever seared in my brain. Codie Crowley’s Body Count harkens back to these Wildwood days of fear and terror lurking underneath the boardwalk or tucked away at the ends of the pier. It’s fitting that Lia, one of the main characters, stays at the Blue Velvet motel, owned by her aunt, since the book has a Lynchian feel where things don’t exactly seem right in Wildwood. Like Lynch’s classic film that examines the underbelly of a typical American town, Crowley’s book also peels back the surface of the island where memories are made to see what kind of evil and violence is lurking beneath the surface. It’s a fun and clever premise that anyone whose visited Wildwood will appreciate. Even if they haven’t had the opportunity to visit Wildwood, this is still a wild and creative idea for a slasher that haunts the two female protagonists, Sundae and Lia, as they are both enchanted by the spirit of a mysterious doowop singer, Holly Jolly, who drowned in a motel pool after losing his opportunity for fame in a tragic diner fire.

There’s a lot to like about Crowley’s book, from the young protagonists who battle sexism and harassment down the shore after the prom to the inventive kills that the malevolent spirit of the boardwalk enacts to fulfill their need for human life. While we first encounter the spirit as Holly Jolly, the doomed doowop singer, in the motel pool when Sundae is younger, there are other very Jersey-centric kills that happen. I loved that Crowley used these kinds of reference points but also made it a point to incorporate some of the Weird NJ stories from the Wildwood area for the kills. For example, one of the forms that the spirit takes in the book is a giant shark, just like the Jersey Shore shark attacks of 1916 that inspired Jaws. Another one of the forms is Tuffy the lion, which I didn’t even know about until one of the characters reveals that a lion was used in a stunt show in Wildwood in the 1930s. Tuffy eventually had enough, got loose from its sidecar, and ran wild on the boardwalk, killing a tourist and terrorizing beach goers. Crowley includes some other stories from Weird NJ deaths that provide the boardwalk spirit with a means to terrorize and kill all of the teens visiting Wildwood after their prom. It’s inventive and a great tribute to how weird NJ is. I also really liked the characters in the book. The story is primarily told through Sundae, a senior from North Jersey who returns to Wildwood despite her misgivings from an earlier encounter with Holly Jolly, another form of the boardwalk wish-master spirit, in the pool of the motel where she spent the summer with her mom after they left her abusive father. Lia, the lead singer of Morticia, heads down the shore to play a show at her aunt’s motel and diner. For Lia, this show is a shot at redemption after an earlier disaster opening for a popular band in Philly when she seemed to suffer from doubts and stage fright, running off the stage before her band’s set began. Lia’s exit from the stage in Philly was a little unclear, and her bandmates, Edison and Dallas, seem to hold a bit of a grudge against Lia for squandering their opportunity for more exposure. Nevertheless, they trek on to Wildwood, looking forward to playing a show for the seniors going down the shore. Although the book has strong female protagonists like Sundae and Lia, I loved Edison and Dallas. They were fun characters who made many references to horror movies throughout the book. It was cool to see how the different events and kills in the book were allusions to other great horror films from the 80s and 90s. Furthermore, I loved the Wildwood references throughout the book. There’s a great scene on the Ferris Wheel, and one of the first wishes that Sundae wishes for is not to have to pay for anything so she can have a hermit crab, a classic living souvenir for any kids visiting the Jersey shore. I also liked that Holly Jolly, the doomed doowop singer who Sundae first encounters at the bottom of the motel pool, represented Wildwood’s doowop history. He’s a creepy figure, who like Morticia, Lia’s band, squandered his one opportunity at success when the concert venue he was going to perform in burned down. As a result, his ghost haunts the motel pool where he drowned himself, creating a great urban legend. I was a little unclear if Holly Jolly’s chance at success was a result of making the cursed wishes, but he eventually becomes part of the spirit that haunts the boardwalk. Additionally, there’s a sign in the motel pool that warns swimmers not to open their eyes under the water, and as Sundae finds out, this is to prevent swimmers from seeing Holly Jolly and being invited to make a wish with his saltwater taffy. The boardwalk spirit/genie becomes kind of like a Jersey Shore Pennywise, drawing on the horrors of Wildwood, emerging during disasters and feeding off the evil lurking under the boardwalk. It takes different forms and terrorizes the youth of Wildwood who are just looking to party and have fun.

While the book is a wild and inventive ride, there’s some questions I had about the events and execution. As I just mentioned, I wasn’t sure if Holly Jolly was just as tempted by the spirit for his chance at fame and the fire was like the price he had to pay for his opportunity. We don’t learn too much about Holly Jolly, except from some background exposition form one of the characters who works with Sundae’s mom early in the book and from the lyrics to Holly Jolly’s song. Also, while Morticia seemed like a great and realistic fictional band, Holly Jolly’s song lyrics, which are repeated throughout the book, didn’t really sound like a doowop song. The lyrics are dark and ominous and sounded more like a dark folk song, like a folk horror song. I thought the lyrics were cool and fit with the tone of the story, but they don’t seem to work as a doowop song. Also, there are these images that pair with Holly Jolly’s lyrics throughout my ebook copy. It was unclear what the images were and why they appear. I wish there was more explanation about them—what they mean and their relation to Holly Jolly and his haunting of Sundae. I loved the strong female protagonists in the book, but I wondered about Lia’s breakdown during her concert in Philly. It’s never really explained, but Lia seems to also be unsure of why exactly it happened. Maybe it’s because she’s at the end of adolescence, struggling with her identity and unsure of who she really is. While Sundae seems more empowered and assured of her identity, Lia seems to struggle with her sense of self. I wish that this element of Lia’s identity was explained a little more. I was also a little surprised that this was listed as a YA book. It’s more of a subversive YA book, where the characters engage in the kind of debauchery that is often a part of senior week at the Jersey Shore. I felt like this was probably more appropriate for emerging adults, like people in their 20s who maybe recently emerged from this period of their lives. It’s also probably a book I would have read in high school, since it has elements of It and other great slashers, but there’s a lot of sex, drugs, violence, and rock-n-roll that some parents might find objectionable for their kids. Even though I loved learning about the Weird NJ stories interspersed throughout the book, they were often revealed by a character telling another character about these backstories. For example, with Tuffy, one of the characters reveals this story to tell about how visitors to Wildwood have a probability of getting attacked by a lion on the boardwalk. We also learn about the Jersey Shore shark attacks in this way. I wonder if these kinds of revelations and connections might have worked better in a different narrative approach, like maybe from old news reports or articles dating from the time. This might give some more depth to the forms that the boardwalk spirit takes on. I wanted to learn more about the whaler, the candystore keeper, and the railroad worker, all forms that kill characters in the book. They just kind of appear, and the connection to the spirit is tenuous and ambiguous, making it harder for readers to see the connection. Finally, I’m just wondering how a book set in Wildwood doesn’t include any tramcars. I would have thought there would be some mention of tramcars on the boardwalk. Nevertheless, Crowley crafts a creative story that uses Weird NJ history, but I wish that this history, real or not, could be explored a little more and readers could learn more about the nature of the events and maybe how they are tied to the evil lurking under Wildwood. Overall, though, I’m so glad I had the opportunity to read this book. Body Count was a fun ride that made me ready for the summer, excited to visit Wildwood and learn more about how weird NJ really is. Recommended! 

The last thing riders saw when leaving Wildwood's Whacky Shack. 

This terrorized me for so many years, and represented the kind of dark 

underbelly of Wildwood for me. 

Vampires and Polar Night: 30 Days of Night: Falling Sun

 30 Days of Night: Falling Sun by Rodney Barnes; art by Chris Shehan and Maan House

30 Days of Night: Falling Sun cover

Rodney Barnes

Many thanks to IDW Publishing and NetGalley for the advanced copy of 30 Days of Night: Falling Sun. I wasn’t aware of this series, but I remember the film being an inventive and scary take on vampires, and realized that the film was originally based on an older comic series. The premise is great since Barrow, Alaska experiences a month long night of darkness, which would be attractive to vampires. In this story, both humans and vampires are confronted with past trauma, and they seek out new communities and opportunities in finding ways to survive. As readers, we are more likely drawn to Jalen, a young LA transplant who moves to Barrow with his uncle to escape the dangers of LA. Unbeknownst to Jalen, he’s running from the frying pan to the fire by going to Barrow. Around the same time, a group of vampires preparing for the month long darkness resurrects the soul of an old vampire leader using blood and ash. This resurrection leads to opportunities for vengeance, with the vampire seeking out revenge for his brother. The two stories of the survivors of Barrow and the vampires out for blood converge in a bloody standoff in the town.

This story has all the great elements of the classic vampire siege movie/story, whether it’s The Lost Boys, From Dusk Till Dawn, or the more recent Sinners. The townspeople eventually become trapped in a space and need to withstand the attacks from outside and within, sometimes battling among their own for dominance within the group. I actually really liked the vampires in this book too. While the story doesn’t delve too deep into their backstory, their ritual to bring back their leader is dark and creepy, with bloody and unique artwork by Chris Sheehan and Maan House. It’s also cool to see how the vampires have their own kind of hierarchy and seek out revenge, much like humans. Even though the story is about a group of vampires attacking a polar town plunged into darkness for a month, there were some elements that seemed somewhat unbelievable. For example, some of the gang members Jalen is fleeing from manage to get to Alaska from LA, and they bring their guns with them, creating an additional standoff that the humans must weather. I can see how this adds to the tension in the standoff, but it felt somewhat unbelievable that these gangbangers are going to suddenly make it to Alaska from LA. Nevertheless, I enjoyed this graphic novel, and I hope that there are other stories in this series coming out. Recommended!  

Son of the City: A Memoir by Dante Ross

Son of the City book cover

Author, A&R, but no scrub Dante Ross

I’ve been reading a bunch of music memoirs, especially about the downtown NY music scene. In the past few months, I read Thurston Moore’s Sonic Life and Chris Stein’s Under a Rock. Both books were good and explored how their respective bands benefitted from the diverse musical scenes that helped birth punk, noise, and alternative rock in the 1970s and 80s. Interestingly, both books had connections to the emerging Hip-Hop scene; Thurston Moore shared one episode where he either attended or almost attended Kurtis Blow’s Christmas Rappin’ recording; similarly, Blondie were a part of the downtown scence that included Basquiat, Keith Herring, Ramalzee, and Fab 5 Freddy, featuring Fab 5 in the song and video for Rapture. Dante Ross may have slightly overlapped with these memoirists too, but his experience growing up in NYC in the late 70s and early 80s was a little more outside of this downtown scene. I absolutely loved this book, and this was by far the most entertaining of the 3 music memoirs dealing with NYC’s downtown scene (as a side note, one other memoir, Kathleen Hanna’s Rebel Girl, was also fabulous and has a connection with the Beastie Boys, much like Dante Ross does). There were so many great elements to Dante Ross’s memoir. I found his voice to be so real and also entertaining. I loved that he used hip-hop vernacular that I haven’t heard for a minute. It added to a fun and relaxed style of narrative, even when some of his early life was not always a crystal staircase. Growing up with an absent drug addict father and an alcoholic mother who struggled with keeping a job and maintaining her mental well-being, Ross candidly and fearlessly shares how challenging this was with a wise and introspective perspective that seems to indicate how much he gained from these experiences trying to find shelter, friends, and food, or surviving, in NYC. While his mother had her own challenges, Dante also paints her as a committed activist who kept to her ideals. One story he shares about the NYC blackouts was really interesting and made me think about my own parenting and whether I maintain my principles in the face of challenging situations. Ross also shares how he helped his friend learn to read, diagnosing him as dyslexic when the schools had more or less given up on him. These experiences also help Ross explore his own privilege, despite not having much money and living a precarious situation at home. Although I knew about Dante Ross from De La Soul, I didn’t realize how deep and wide his musical roots are in NYC and beyond. Ross hung out with in the NYC hardcore scene that birthed the Cro-Mags, and shared his amazement at seeing Bad Brains in the early 80s. He also details the birth and evolution of the Beastie Boys, and these were some of the funniest and most joyous scenes in the book. I read Dan LeRoy’s great book about Paul’s Boutique, and this is another insider perspective about that time and the challenges that the Beasties faced in transitioning from Def Jam to Columbia. Furthermore, I think that Ross’s friendship with the Beasties and his participation in a wide array of musical styles early on helped shape his perspectives on hip-hop. Ross eventually falls in with Tommy Boy, helping to bring De La Soul to a larger audience. Looking at De La Soul, Queen Latifah, and A Tribe Called Quest, all acts that Dante Ross had a hand in getting record deals, you can see how his omnivorous musical tastes helped him work with these artists who were different from the more mainstream B-Boy brand of hip-hop. These acts, and Dante Ross’s role in promoting these acts, really helped to challenge the boundaries of hip-hop, extending them for the better and re-shaping the rules for what was acceptable in hip-hop circles. I think that the diversity in the downtown NYC musical scene had a lot to do with this. These acts, not quite alternative or backpack rap yet, brought in different , jazzier samples, conscious lyrics, and an Afrocentric sensibility towards fashion. It was really interesting to see this theme running through the artists that Dante Ross worked with throughout his career. I loved reading the later chapters as well. It’s not just Dante Ross’s voice that is so enthralling, but also the fact that he was working with so many of the rappers and groups that I loved in my early adolescence. Reading through this book was like reminiscing—but also learning since Ross shares some incredible stories of working with artists like Leaders of the New School, Pete Rock and CL Smooth, Grand Puba and Brand Nubian, MF DOOM (Cev Luv X of KMD), 3^rd Bass, Guru, I could just go on, but this was like the wall of cassettes and crates of records in my high school bedroom. Reading about working with ODB, KMD and later DOOM provided me with an insider’s perspective of these artists, and I really liked that his detailing of his close work with ODB and DOOM helped to provide another viewpoint, showing how thoughtful and creative these artists were. I think that many people recognize DOOM’s creative genius, but Ross explains that he has been upset about how people view ODB, and his stories helped to show how intentional and creative ODB was in creating his persona and the arti and design for his album. Although I’m not a big fan of Everlast’s solo work, Dante Ross produced and really had a hand in helping Everlast get this album going. This was also a great section of the book. His descriptions about the challenges and health risks they faced in creating this album were captivating. I loved learning more about the creative process of making music, and especially the technical aspects of it. I’m amazed to see how Dante Ross didn’t really have a music background beyond being a huge fan, and worked his way up from working in the mail room at a nascent Def Jam to become a creative force in not only artist and repertoire, but also in production and beat making. It was really cool to see his own growth in the field—working with artists and record labels—and eventually moving into musical production. I really appreciated Ross’s candidness about his life, whether sharing about his family, his loves and losses, or his substance abuse and eventual sobriety. I felt like beyond the entertainment of the stories he shares, he also drops knowledge about career management, relationships, both romantic and platonic, and mental health. Maybe it’s all that conscious hip-hop he’s been a part of, but he’s skilled at subtly kicking science to the masses. Finally, I loved that I finished this book on father’s day. I didn’t know anything about Dante Ross’s dad, but he starts the book out talking about how his dad was the kind of motivating force in starting the book; his later chapters go over being with his dad during his final year or so. It was really beautiful, and I can tell that the sobriety has given him some perspective on his relationship with his father and his eventual passing. As someone who also had a complicated relationship with his father, it helped me remember the better times and how I was able to be there for my dad during his final month. I really resonated with Ross’s experience of being there and wanting to be there despite the specter and impending fear of death. I realized that this experience had something to teach me. It was kind of like a nice connection I felt to Dante Ross’s experiences. One other final note, I loved that Dante Ross described another A&R who he disagreed with as “a mountain climber who plays an electric guitar”. Loved that Protect Ya Neck reference. Always thought that was hilarious 90s stereotyping. If you are a music fan or a fan of memoirs, this is a great one to read, even if you are not familiar with Dante Ross or the artists he’s repped over time. Chances are, you’ve encountered some of the music he’s had a hand in bringing to a larger audience, whether your from the 80s, 90s, or later. Really great memoir, and I hope that Dante Ross has more books coming out. 

 Under a Rock by Chris Stein

Under a Rock book cover

Musician and author Chris Stein

Thank you to Netgalley and Macmillan Publishers for allowing me to preview Chris Stein’s unflinching memoir Under a Rock. While I’m not a major Blondie fan, I’ve always enjoyed their poppy music, and I generally love memoirs by musicians, especially those detailing the downtown/CBGB’s music scene of the mid to late 70’s. Chris Stein’s book is a great addition to other books detailing this important time period in American music and beyond. Beyond the music, Stein has led a really interesting life, and reading about his pre-Blondie years, growing up in Brooklyn, travelling to the West Coast and going to Woodstock, as well as attending an alternative school in NYC with other musicians and artists was fascinating. His stories feature some amazing characters and incredible events. The strength of his book, though, details his time with Blondie, forming the band, starting up around the same time as the Ramones and Television, and eventually gaining popularity. Beyond being more pop oriented than some of the other downtown bands, Blondie also incorporated art in unique ways, and Stein’s background as a visual artist, both in photography and videography, probably added to the band’s integration of visual arts with their music. It’s interesting to look back on Blondie’s output and realize how much Debbie Harry’s image was associated with Blondie. However, Stein also shares that Blondie was also one of the first bands to create a video album to go along with their LP. I loved reading about Stein’s time with other musicians and artists, especially how close Blondie was with Iggy Pop, David Bowie, William S. Burroughs, and Andy Warhol. Although this larger section detailing the development and success of Blondie was the strongest of the book, it was also the most harrowing since this was also the time when Stein’s casual drug use eventually spiraled into full-blown heroin and cocaine addiction. Stein details his addictions and some of the depths that it took him to, eventually seeking out methadone treatment to manage his heroin addiction. As Stein notes in his epilogue (which you must read), it’s important not to glamorize addiction the way some artists have. He documents friends who died from overdoses, and the health struggles that he experienced as a result of his habit. The later chapters dealing with the dissolution of Blondie and eventual reformation kind of fly by. I actually had a hard time following along with his timeline of events, and it wasn’t until the section dealing with 9/11 that I kind of caught up with his timeline. In fact, this is probably the one shortcoming I found with Stein’s writing. There weren’t many transitions or connectives in the text, and this led to a kind of stream-of-consciousness thought-process on the page. I found it more with his early life and his later sections. The events jumped around and paragraphs were listed without any sense of how one event related to another—whether it was sequential, emotionally linked, or some other kind of connection. Sometimes, events that were seemingly non-events were listed without any explanation of their significance, making me question its inclusion. Nevertheless, Stein is an important musician and artist, and I appreciated learning more about his involvement in this seminal scene of music. 

 

The United States of Cryptids by J.W. Ocker

 The United States of Cryptids: A Tour of American Myths and Monsters by J.W. Ocker

The United States of Cryptids book cover

Author J.W. Ocker

Ocker’s The United States of Cryptids isn’t quite an encyclopedia, but it is a great reference book and a fun travelogue of Ocker’s quest to document Cyptids in each state/region in the US. I read this along with my son, thinking that he might want to read more about myths and monsters. After riding on the Jersey Devil roller coaster, both of my kids became interested in learning more about the Jersey Devil, and Ocker documents a good amount about the history and cultural legacy of NJ’s most famous cryptid. Each chapter for the book was relatively brief, and I really enjoyed reading about Ocker’s ideas to honor and promote each state’s cryptid. He frequently mentions statues or plaques that would identify sightings, legacy, or other important information about these cryptids. Beyond these recommendations, Ocker’s book can also serve as a great road trip guide for adventurous families and cryptid hunters. He shares where he found more information about these cryptids, as well as some of the annual traditions that might involve honoring the legacies of these mythological creatures. I loved learning about some of the towns and their festivals, parades, or even ceremonies to honor cryptids. One town in Minnesota had an annual gnome festival that made gnomes from the likenesses of townspeople they wanted to fete for the year. It was a really nice way to recognize the contributions of a town. I was surprised to learn that a fair amount of the cryptids stories are created to drum up tourism or promote visiting these towns, and this practice even goes back to the 1800s, when a sea serpent was manufactured to attract visitors to the town’s hotel. Although many of the stories are unbelievable and some are blatantly false or rumors, it is still fun to read about these creates and wonder what some of the more unexplained phenomena might be. Despite these concise chapters, Ocker manages to convey enough information about the origins and history of these, and frequently makes connections to other cryptids in other states or regions. My e-book also had links back to the other cryptids. I’m looking forward to reading some of Ocker’s other books—I have the cursed objects book and read that he has a book about cults coming out, which I really can’t wait to read. Overall, this was a fun and easy read that gave me plenty of ideas about possible road trips or places to visit.