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. 

 

Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material- 33 1/3

 Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material by Kevin C. Dunn (33 1/3)

Stiff Little Fingers' Inflammable Material book cover

Author and scholar Kevin C. Dunn

Many thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Kevin C. Dunn’s addition to the 33 1/3 series focused on Stiff Little Fingers’ Inflammable Material. I first learned about Stiff Little Fingers from a Rhino Records 70s Punk compilation titled No Thanks! “Suspect Device” and “Alternative Ulster” were their contributions, and they are both some of the hardest, fiercest songs on that compilation. There are only a few bands with multiple songs on the comp, so I recognized that their music was important, but I never picked up this album. I was also surprised to learn that they were from Northern Ireland, since most of the bands were either from England or the US. I don’t remember learning too much more about them, so I was excited to find this 33 1/3 volume on their debut album. While the band produced several other albums over the course of a more than 20 years-long career (with various line-ups), nothing matched the success of their first album. Dunn’s book details the context within which the band formed and developed their sound, as well as how the Troubles and sectarian violence of 1970s Northern Ireland (specifically Belfast) shaped the punk movement, and more importantly how punk rock enabled the youth of Belfast to establish an alternative to the sectarian violence, and provided an identity that wasn’t solely defined by religion or nationality. As Dunn illustrates, 1970s Belfast not only was rife with violence and the threat of bombings, but it was also a time of high unemployment and limited opportunities for young men. Playing music in a band was one of those ways to find a way out of the violence and enjoy youth. Interestingly enough, the band started off as a pub rock type band, playing a lot of covers of heavy music like Deep Purple. This might have been the biggest shock of the entire book, because whenever I’ve listened to “Suspect Device,” I didn’t get the sense that this song was by a cover band. Nevertheless, Dunn’s research delves into the transformation and how the band shifted their sound, writing a song that contained a double meaning of a topical issue. As Dunn analyzes the lyrics, he notes that the term “Suspect Device” wasn’t just a potential explosive, but also served as a metaphor for the bored and jobless youths who posed a danger without something to do. In fact, I was surprised to see how many of their songs are the kind of punk songs about boredom and aimless youth. Dunn’s book and analysis of the album’s contents help to establish that theme of the album but also shows how the punk rock community brought together young people and gave them something to do and organize around. He also notes how the album compares with some of the other classic punk albums that were released shortly before Inflammable Material.

It was interesting to learn more about the band as well, and how they ended up being the first album released on Rough Trade Records, a classic independent British label that started as a record store. Releasing an album on Rough Trade enabled Stiff Little Fingers to have distribution in England, not just in Northern Ireland. Although the band eventually moved to England and signed with another major record label for their subsequent albums, it was interesting to learn more about how this album was produced and its importance to British punk rock. Dunn also provides useful historical and social context to understand the Troubles, both before and after the album was released. Although Inflammable Material didn’t do much for peace, Dunn frames the larger context of the punk rock movement in Belfast as being a significant influence in rejecting the either/or dichotomies of the Troubles and providing a new community that sought to focus on improving conditions for the working class and artists in Belfast. While the band danced around the politics of The Troubles and used imagery associated with the Troubles, their music ultimately reengaged other bands in Norther Ireland signaling that it was relatively safe to play after the Miami Showband killings in 1975. Dunn goes on to provide some insight into the greater Belfast punk scene, and the “punkwashing” that happened in Belfast in the early 2000s, that celebrates the role of music in creating a renewed Belfast. I really enjoyed this book, and it represents so much of what is great about the 33 1/3 books. It examines a significant album, and doesn’t just look at its lyrical or musical content, but also examines the socio-historical and political influences that helped to shape this album. Furthermore, it places the album in a larger context to demonstrate its significance in creating an “Alternative Ulster,” and reshaping the greater Belfast community to reject the sectarianism that divided much of the city and the nation for so many years. Highly recommended! 

Urgent Questions in the History of Rock n Roll: This Ain't Rock 'n' Roll by Daniel Rachel

 This Ain't Rock 'n' Roll: Pop Music, the Swastika, and the Third Reich by Daniel Rachel

This Ain't Rock 'n' Roll cover

Author Daniel Rachel

“What do you do when your mom is a skinhead? You write a song about her,” Thurston Moore’s introduction to Sonic Youth’s “The Bedroom”

 

Big thanks to Akashic Books and NetGalley for the advanced copy of Daniel Rachel’s urgent and critical new book This Ain’t Rock ‘n’ Roll: Pop Music, the Swastika, and the Third Reich.  Towards the end of the book, I thought about Thurston Moore’s intro to “The Bedroom,” a song from the early 90s that probably preceded “Youth Against Fascism,” but still emphasized the bands commitment to upholding their values yet also being provocative in their lyrics. I don’t think anyone would accuse SY of holding Nazi sympathies, yet Thurston’s ambivalent delivery leads listeners to wonder whether he’s angry, sad, or maybe even questioning the mother’s skinhead membership. If anything, it’s a kind of absurd premise, but still emphasizes the shock value that permeates the punk ethos from the early days of SY. This song intro nor any of SY’s music made it into this book, but it would have been interesting to read Rachel’s thoughts and questions about SY’s skinhead reference or another reference to Jews in their song “My Arena.” It would have been interesting to see how bands in the 80s, grappling with Reagan, racism, and other inequalities in the US have responded to issues like the resurgence of white supremacy (I’m looking at you Ice-T and Body Count).

If anything, I wonder how much context matters in these kinds of references and whether bands or musicians that referred to Nazi imagery from the UK had a different impact or intent than bands or musicians from the US. I think most people understand that the band Blondie, referenced in the book for some potential Nazi references, are not sympathizers with Nazis, but should we also question other bands from the 1970s like Joy Division or The Fall? Nevertheless, British music is more of the focus of Rachel’s book, and I learned so much from reading this book, both from the bands and the music, as well as the history and details that were relevant to many of the songs, albums, and artwork referenced throughout the book. While I knew about plenty of the bands and the Nazi references that these bands made, I never really considered the deeper implications, especially in how it may have impacted survivors and families who were impacted by the Holocaust. The book covers a lot of obvious candidates from the heyday of British punk like the Sex Pistols (especially Sid Vicious) and Siouxie Sioux, to Factory Records bands like Joy Division and New Order, whose names derive from Nazi references, to some American bands like The Stooges, whose lead guitarist Ron Asheton frequently dressed in SS uniforms and was deeply interested in German war history, and The Ramones, whose logo may have borrowed from the Nazi era eagle. Although The Ramones’ song “Today your love, Tomorrow the world,” referenced Ava Braun’s and Hitler’s love, The Ramones also referred to themselves as “Nazis” in the song, even though Joey Ramone was Jewish. Rachel notes in the end of the book that he is just presenting the facts as they are and making historical references to WWII and Holocaust history to identify possible references and allusions that the bands make. However, I’m not sure that anyone listening to this song took The Ramones to be Nazis, since they never really seemed serious about the subjects in any of their songs. They also sang about sniffing glue, wanting to get shock treatment, and claiming to be victims of a teenage lobotomy. In fact, Rachel later references The Ramones’ song “Bonzo goes to Bitburg” released shortly after Reagan’s shameful visit to an SS cemetery where he advocated for forgetting the past atrocities. If anything, this example shows how The Ramones used this imagery and references not lightly, but rather in a critical if not sarcastic manner to lessen the power and allure of the Nazis. It was interesting to consider other case studies and musicians like Sid Vicious (if you could even call him a musician or artist) who used Nazi imagery to shock and incite the older generation. I don’t agree with that approach, and I think Rachel makes a good case in noting that art should be provocative, but the “atrocities of the Third Reich are not to be used lightly as creative inspiration.” I think that the latter sections really helped me understand this argument much more, especially when we think about more modern examples of shock rock and how some artists demonstrate their ignorance in the use of Nazi imagery. He cites examples of Marilyn Manson and Ye to show how current attempts by musicians to shock are problematic and in many ways lazy. For Manson, the analogy between current politics and Nazis didn’t add up, especially in a country that allowed his music to thrive and be accessible, if not criticized, by many. I don’t really understand why Ye expressed his love for Hitler, but he clearly seems like someone who needs a lot of attention, but he has recently attempted to apologize for his Nazi era. In fact, it makes less sense when you read about Hitler’s thoughts about Black athletes like Jesse Owens who competed in the 1936 Olympics. I’m sure that Hitler would not have been a fan of Ye’s at all.

It’s interesting to see Rachel’s theory that the increasing education and introduction of Holocaust studies into curricula in Europe and America in the 1980s and 1990s as well as popular representations of Holocaust stories ranging from The Diary of Anne Frank to Art Spiegelman’s Maus to Elie Wiesel’s Night to films like Schindler’s List all helped to raise consciousness about the Holocaust and the evils of the Third Reich, which is a possible reason why the use of Nazi imagery and themes today has taken on a different tone, and where we are quick to either question or condemn its use. If anything, it’s important to remember the consequences of this kind of damaged nationalism and dangerous pull of the crowd since in the US we have seen an uptick in using Nazi-type propaganda in government social media messages where the Department of Homeland Security has posted “We’ll have our home again” and the Department of Labor posted “One Homeland. One People. One Heritage,” slogans that have a nearly literal German translation from Nazi slogans.  As Rachel seems to argue, raising awareness is the first step, but it is also important to question and challenge, and not merely accept the repurposing of these phrases, images, and slogans.

In addition to these examples, I was really surprised to learn about some of the earlier Nazi examples Rachel cites from classic rock. In particular, there are stories about John Lennon’s fascination with Nazis, and how members of bands ranging from the Rolling Stones, the Who and Led Zeppelin would dress up in Nazi uniforms, sometimes for performances. I was aware of Bowie’s flirtations with fascism, as well as the explicit racism of Eric Clapton, who made continued racist comments in concert in the 1970s, even after scoring a hit from a Bob Marley cover song (once again appropriating Black art). This book was filled with various examples of artists who used fascism and especially Nazi imagery and ideas in their music. The book traces these examples from classic rock through punk and post-punk up until more modern examples and provides instances of other representations of Nazism in popular culture. Some of the most unbelievable examples are in the nazisploitation films like Isla, She Wolf of the SS, where Rachel provides the chilling real life Ilse Koch as the basis for this story. Other films like Salon Kitty and The Night Porter, which was especially celebrated and copied by artists ranging from Siouxsie Sioux to Madonna, were referenced, but also questioned as to the purpose of these films. Was it to shock? To excite? Or were there questions about the nature of power and violence? Rachel raises important questions as to the nature of these films and their impact on punk rock, popular music, and fashion, questioning whether they introduced a kind of Nazi-chic that remains relevant today as people rightly scrutinize the fashy fashion choices of ICE thug Gregory Bovino.

I was drawn to this book since it is a book about music, and the striking cover, featuring what looks like a Hitler youth banging a drum, really grabbed my attention as well. It’s a familiar picture, looking like something from either Joy Division album artwork or a recent Turning Point for Elementary School recruitment poster. While the book sometimes goes down a historical Hitler hole, deeply researching connections between history and the music Rachel discusses, it’s still a deeply important and timely book. Rachel’s research and connections made me question the music I consumed, and while I will still listen to the Ramones, Joy Division, The Stooges, Slayer, and Motorhead, I think it’s important to consider how the images they use are possibly pushing aside the horrors and atrocities of the Third Reich. I’m glad that in the last section of the book, Rachel references the infamous Dead Kennedy’s song about Nazi punks, and how they used that song to promote anti-racism, selling arm bands with crossed-out swastikas. For me, in a lot of ways, punk and metal was more about questioning this kind of overbearing authority and finding ways to assert your own voice, be your own person, amidst a society that will sometimes brutally push individuals towards conformity. Furthermore, the actions of education, awareness, and remembrance are even more important as US government officials like Elon Musk are given passes and grace for Nazi salutes, only to make Nazi-themed jokes on his social media account. I just kept thinking about the absurdity of this situation, where some of the most powerful people in the world were seemingly endorsing these policies, and remembered to the events in VA in 2017, where Trump celebrated, in his words, some “very fine people, on both sides,” and his continued refusal to disavow racism and bigotry from followers like the Proud Boys and David Duke. Rachel’s book is an important read, not only for music fans, but for anyone who consumes media today. It’s important to be aware of the kinds of messages that are swirling around, and how powerful groups can use images, propaganda, and catchy slogans to win over hearts and minds, attempting to sway our beliefs. Furthermore, Rachel’s research in this book is an important reminder about how powerful and successful the Nazis were in manipulation- in using images, slogans, and misinformation to sway so many people or to cover up their atrocities in the guise of nationalism, patriotism, duty, and honor. This book is important to remember those lessons from history because as Jello Biafra sang in the Dead Kennedy’s famous song “You’ll be the first to go, unless you think.” Highly recommended!

 

PS-

As I was reading this, I was thinking about how contextual a lot of these references to swastikas can be. I visited Hong Kong about 10 years ago, and I had the opportunity to go to the Lantau Buddha, which is a giant statue of Buddha, over 34 meters tall. It's an amazing monument that was initiated by monks from a nearby temple. 

The Buddha sits high atop mountains, holding up a hand in a display of peace and equanimity. All around the monument are various reminders of the tenets of Buddhism, about suffering and compassion, and with thousands of visitors there to pay respect and homage, it's also a reminder of our interconnectedness. Nevertheless, it was jarring for me to see swastikas along the fence of this monument. 

However, as Rachel noted in the book, the swastika is an ancient symbol used by many cultures before it was hijacked by the Nazis. In the later section of the book, Rachel calls out a k-pop artist who wore a shirt with Sid Vicious wearing the swastika shirt. I was thinking about how in other cultures, particularly Asian cultures, the idea of a swastika has a much different meaning. Furthermore, schools in these cultures present history and learning in much different ways. What they emphasize might be different, and I would imagine that Korea, a nation that was occupied by Japan for many years, where people experienced the cruelty and violence of Japan's imperialism, might emphasize other lessons from WWII than Nazism. I'm not making any excuses, but I do think that in these other contexts, especially in different cultures, the swastika takes on a different meaning, and the emphasis on the atrocities from WWII might lean more on the Japanese than the Germans. I would imagine that you probably wouldn't find her wearing a Japan (the band) shirt or any images of the rising sun. It just reminded me of the contextual differences of the use of the swastika throughout the book, and how so many different factors from historical context, cultural influences and norms, among other influences all impact our reception to these symbols. 

Synthesis of Sounds: When Rock Met Hip-Hop by Steven Blush

 When Rock Met Hip-Hop: How Run-DMC, Aerosmith, Anthrax, The Beastie Boys, and More Crossed Cultural and Musical Boundaries by Steven Blush

When Rock Met Hip-Hop book cover

Author Steven Blush

Big props to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for allowing me to preview Steven Blush’s fun and necessary book documenting the intersection of Rock and Hip-Hop over the past 50 years titled When Rock Met Hip-Hop: How Run-DMC, Aerosmith, Anthrax, The Beastie Boys, and More Crossed Cultural and Musical Boundaries. I was so excited to find this book, not only because I loved books about rock and hip-hop, but also because it’s by Steven Blush, whose American Hardcore basically reinvented music journalism for underground and misrepresented genres. Blush’s applies the same approach he used in American Hardcore here in When Rock Met Hip-Hop, where he  includes interviews with the primary artists involved in rock and hip-hop’s intersection as well as his own commentary and analysis of the music and movements associated with these gradual experiments in genre crossover. The book charts a predominantly chronological approach to examining these artists and the musical movements they helped to synthesize over time. I loved how Blush identifies the shared space that rock, especially genres like punk and metal, and hip-hop occupy. The beginning of the book focuses on the early innovators of hip-hop and how they frequently used rock beats as breakbeats, looking especially at Billy Squier, who would seem like an 80s artist not really aligned with hip-hop, but whose songs “Big Beat” and “The Stroke” have provided some foundations for early hip-hop classics. Blush also spends time exploring other early hip-hop artists and how they frequently made use of rock beats and instrumentation in their work. It’s a fascinating look at the early days of hip-hop and how, in many ways, Black artists were reinventing popular music in a wholly unique way.

Blush spends most of this section of the book in NYC, where hip-hop was born, and this leads us to Run-DMC and Def Jam, which is where some of the earliest attempts at brining together rock and hip-hop musicians to collaborate on songs happens. Although most would cite the Run-DMC and Aerosmith “Walk This Way” as the first major rock and rap collaboration, Blush cites some earlier examples, with Anthrax providing the beat for The Lone Rager’s “Metal Rap” in 1983. Blush also explores how Blondie’s experience in downtown NYC led to collaborations with Fab 5 Freddy and Basquiat to appear in their “Rapture” video, which included a rap by Debbie Harry. Interestingly, they did not say this was a rap song, but rather a song with rapping in it. Just like when I read American Hardcore over 20 years ago, I loved reading this book and finding new groups and songs to chase down and listen to in order to find these new examples of hip-hop and rock.

The Def Jam section was one of my favorite from this book since it focuses on not only Run-DMC, but also how the collaborative work of Russell Simmons and Rick Rubin helped to initiate a lot of this musical synthesis. Rubin, a fan of punk and metal, teamed up with Simmons, a party promoter, to create the iconic hip-hop label, which had the top hip-hop groups in the 80s and early 90s. Def Jam’s roster included The Beastie Boys, who started out as a punk band, and Public Enemy, whose songs “Sophisticated B….” and “She Watched Channel Zero” included amazing guitar work from Vernon Reid and a sample from Slayer’s “Angel of Death” respectively. PE also collaborated with Anthrax after they covered “Bring the Noise,” creating one of the more iconic and brash rock and rap collaborations form the early 90s. Interestingly too, I learned that Kerry King from Slayer played on License to Ill’s “No Sleep Till Brooklyn” and “Fight for Your Right to Party,” also appearing in the video with a wig. These are the kinds of tidbits I loved finding out in the book as well. Blush follows the careers and discography of PE and the Beasties to note how both bands gradually cultivated sounds that led to more synthesizing of rock and rap, and both bands moving more towards the hard and fast approaches to rock and rap.

Blush’s strengths throughout the book are that he’s thorough and brings a critical eye to the music and various forces and trends that drive the changes in rap and rock, whether it’s technology, shared ideas and philosophies, or even money and marketing. While the first part of the book is a deep dive into NYC and the East Coast scenes that birthed some of the most memorable rap and rock collaborations from the 1990s. I liked how Blush reviews the contributions from various bands running the gamut from Biohazard to Fun Loving Criminals in the mid to late 90s. I had some questions, though, about the inclusion of bands like 3^rd Bass, who were on Def Jam and apparently opened and replied to Slayer’s fan mail (Rick Rubin produced Slayer), but never made any rap-rock music. They had Henry Rollins in their video for “Pop Goes the Weasel,” which sampled Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer,” but I couldn’t really understand their inclusion in the book. I understood the inclusion of other bands like House of Pain and Cypress Hill since they both were on the Judgement Night Soundtrack and also ended up incorporating more rock and live instrumentation in their music. Similarly, Young Black Teenagers were included, but they did not include rock in their music beyond an album cover that looked like The Beatles. I think the section on the Judgment Night soundtrack was also the beginning of the end of the rap-rock collaboration. I loved this soundtrack in high school, and Blush spends some time arguing for its importance in helping to foster this collaboration. I also liked this section since he provides some insight from interviews of the artists about how the artists worked together to make music. It was fascinating since many of them hadn’t worked with different artists beyond Cypress Hill, Biohazard, Onyx, and Run-DMC. They all described the challenges, but also discussed the ways they managed to find different methods of collaborating. Unfortunately, though, Blush notes that the popularity of this soundtrack and possibly the idea that synthesizing these genres could bring in more ears and money to spend on two popular genres eventually led to Nu-Metal, which was the downfall of the genre. I didn’t like this section as much, and I wasn’t sure if it was because I’m just not a fan of this music and really didn’t want to read much about it, or if it was because Blush’s style seemed to get a little less detailed and critical in this section. Maybe it’s because Nu Metal is just under-reported or researched, but I just didn’t really delve into it too much. It seemed like Nu Metal was more of a money grab and that bands like Limp Bizkit were like MTV creations who sold lots of records, and once the tastes shifted more to boy bands and other softer pop music, Nu Metal lost its flavor. It seemed like there was more to analyze and criticize here, but there also might not be enough information and willing participants to make a strong case at this moment. Nevertheless, it was interesting to consider that Trip Hop, another somewhat maligned 90s synthesis of genres, arose from this rock-rap ethos. I hadn’t considered that, especially because bands like Portishead and Massive Attack seemed on the opposite end of the rage spectrum. However, Blush makes some compelling arguments about including this genre into the rap-rock rubric.

This book is a must have for any music fan who grew up in the 80s, 90s, or 2000s. Like Blush’s American Hardcore, this is essential reading for learning more about the evolution of rock music, and how hip-hop helped propel and energize rock in the 80s and 90s. Blush drops science with fun facts and information but also has some really interesting takes about the music. For example, when discussing Dr. Dre’s interest in creating Ghetto Metal with Eazy E, he notes that Jerry Heller, the head of Priority Records, may have died because of the way he was portrayed in Straight Outta Compton, which was both strange and fascinating. The book is full of these fun nuggets (and one Nugent too), so it serves as a good reference book as well. I especially loved the appendix of Lost Gems. My listening list has grown considerably since reading this book. Highly recommended!

An Amazing Journey Through The Creation of Guns N' Roses' Chinese Democracy in Magnum Opus

 Magnum Opus: The Unbelievable 15-Year Saga of Guns N' Roses' Chinese Democracy by James Greene Jr. 

Magnum Opus book cover

Author James Greene, Jr. 

Big thanks to Bloombsbury Academic, Backbeat Books, and NetGalley for allowing me to preview an advanced copy of one of the most entertaining and incredible music books of 2026: James Greene, Jr.’s Magnum Opus: The Unbelievable 15-Year Saga of Guns N’ Roses’ Chinese Democracy. I previously read Greene’s This Music Leaves Stains many years ago, and as one of the only books about the Misfits, I really appreciated how Greene provided some background and insight into such an iconic and influential group. It’s been a while, but I remember that much of the book tries to investigate the mystique and legends surrounding a band that continues to exist with original members who have fought with the lead singer, who formed his own bands to branch out and explore other types of music. If I remember correctly, the book was a testament of Greene’s love for the band, as well as a tribute to fans to help them better understand the complicated history of this band that has had several iterations over the years. Greene’s latest book traverses similar territory, but goes much deeper for a wild 15-year odyssey to craft what was anticipated to be an album that would save the music industry, but ultimately was released in several hundred Best Buys without much fanfare and to Dr. Pepper’s chagrin. Although I’m not a diehard G N R fan, I absolutely loved Appetite and Lies. They came out when I was about 11-12 and was really starting to branch off in my musical tastes. I remember that videos for “Welcome to the Jungle” and “Paradise City” were always on. I always preferred these songs to more of the ballads, although I have a soft spot for “Patience.” I’m not sure how I got the album, especially since my parents wouldn’t allow me to get a G N R t-shirt (I had to opt for a Def Leppard one). Once I got the album, songs like “My Michelle,” “Out Ta Get Me” and especially  “It’s So Easy” were always my favorites. We even listened to these songs before football games in high school several years later. Both Appetite and Lies were foundational albums not just in my musical appreciation, but also as a kind of rebellion to my parents. G N R were just so scuzzy, but I loved them. However, I couldn’t get into Use Your Illusions. The music so much slower and not as rocking. At that point, too, I moved on to alternative and hip-hop, while occasionally checking out Metallica and harder stuff. I still appreciated Guns, but I never bought any of their other albums. However, I still love reading about them, mostly because of their excessiveness and unwillingness to compromise, whether for good or bad. Greene’s book is an incredible exploration of their career that specifically homes in on the period that follows Use Your Illusion to understand what exactly Axl was doing and how he was able to spend so much time and money trying to make the follow up to these albums. It’s an incredible story because there are so many different players and revolving band members, and in the time that passed, Axl seemed to be drawn to different musical styles, yet could never really settle down and figure out what he wanted the next album to be. Or maybe he new what the next album was going to be, and this was part of the issue—that he could never really reach his standards. In either case, Axl spent  the years from 1993 until 2008 working on what would become Chinese Democracy, an album with a host of expectations and anticipation that eventually became a kind of myth (and to some a joke). I still haven’t really listened to it, but I remember being at a Best Buy sometime after its release and hearing some clips at the listening station. I also remember texting with friends about whether they bought it and what it was like. It’s crazy to think about how much changed in the music industry, from styles and genres, to production and consumption of music, but it seems like G N R really missed a lot being out of the game for so long. Greene’s book looks at different eras and iterations of the group as Axl continued to oust and add members to refine the sound of Chinese Democracy. Magnum Opus is a really fun read since I could recall many of the events and lineup changes- like when Buckethead or Tommy Stinson joined G N R. I also remember the riots in Philly at the Core States Center in 2002. Greene’s research examines these events, but also looks at some of the trends and events that occurred simultaneously and considers how they might have impacted Axl and his work on Chinese Democracy.

Greene’s book starts with the beginning of the band, giving a brief overview of G N R’s formation in LA, from when Axl left Indiana and headed to The Jungle, just like the video. The next chapters discuss G N R’s seminal albums, as well as the reputation that the band acquired for being the bad boys of rock. Much of that reputation rested on Axl’s shoulders for really questionable behavior. It’s still shocking to read about the accusations of abuse, the inflammatory lyrics, and the tantrums and no-shows, and Greene’s reporting left me wondering how Axl’s behavior would be accepted today. Greene presents Axl as somewhat reformed, or Woke Axl, with his criticisms of the first Trump administration in the last chapter, but it is still shocking to read a lot of what the band said and did in era of Reagan and Bush. The remaining chapters examine different eras with Axl taking control from some of the original members, first ousting drummer Steven Adler for Matt Sorum, and then eventually ousting Izzy Stradlin, Slash, and later Duff. Although Greene never interviews Axl, we hear from other members of the band about how they were contacted to join, and as the band continues to rotate and expand, the methods and auditions become stranger and stranger. What I found most perplexing about this period was where was Axl during most of this time. From Greene’s reporting and interviews with studio managers and technicians, band members, and others involved in the process, Axl would show up infrequently, sometimes to only to fulfill contractual obligations or avoid being evicted from the studio. There was always talk about doing vocals, but one of the producers explained that Axl didn’t even have any lyrics written yet. He was just adding sounds- vocalizations- to go along with the tracks. Most involved in the epic 15 year process note that the tracks were good, but not great—not G N R Appetite era great, and probably nothing ever will be like that album. Regardless, Greene presents many interesting anecdotes about what Axl was doing during this period, whether it was using the internet at the studio since he didn’t have access in the early 2000s, to ordering $25,000 worth of sushi after getting his Lambo stuck at the studio parking lot, or just watching the Discovery Channel, maybe to get some ideas. In many ways, Axl reminded me of this kind of inverse of Prince—a mysterious task master who had a specific vision, yet unlike Prince, Axl almost seemed crushed by the pressure and expectations and resorted to doing nothing. Regardless, I also appreciated Greene’s commitment to the truth in attempting to construct a kind of Rashomon-like narrative of this album where ideas and observations are floated out only to be contradicted or corrected by another participant. Since there were so many people involved in the recording, production, and creation of this album, and so many who left or were fired for various reasons, there’s so much to speculate on, and hearing the various ideas, suppositions, and theories are all very interesting to try to understand why and how this album took 15 years and tens of millions of dollars to create. However, I think that this may be understandable from a man who was alleged to have spent $75,000 on an exorcism (it actually cost $72,000 in the 90s) that didn’t work. This is just another example of the mystique clashing with the reality of Axl Rose, and I absolutely loved learning about it. Beyond learning about the truth behind these many urban legends, the book also examines Axl’s changing appearance, speculating about the possible reasons for Axl’s braids, his muscular physique, and his windedness. It’s a fascinating look at what could have been a cultural and generational touchpoint for many of my contemporaries but ultimately ended up becoming a potential name of an Offspring album. Despite all of these perspectives and legends, there is a lot to learn from the book. I had no idea about Dr. Pepper’s promotion to give everyone a free soda when Chinese Democracy was released. It’s another fascinating rabbit hole that Greene takes us down as we initially see G N R’s support change to ire after the album dropped without much notice in November 2008. I also loved reading about Buckethead’s time in the band. I’ve always been a big Bill Laswell fan and have enjoyed his work with Buckethead. It seemed like Buckethead was just a strange fit for what was one of the most noticeable bands that people were anticipating for a reemergence. The stories involving Buckethead’s time in the band are some of the most entertaining and allow Greene to further create this Rashomon style narrative where various stories are pieced together to round out the characters and their motivations. I really couldn’t put this book down, wanting to read more and more to learn what would happen next in the journey to create this album. While Greene’s book is a great document of the changing nature of rock and roll as well as the music industry from the 80s and 90s up through the early 2000s, the book also raises questions around artistry, originality, mental health, and creativity. Greene never really posits his own ideas about what stalled Axl’s progress, but his interviews and research allow other participants to offer ideas and speculate. Magnum Opus is an incredible read, especially for music fans. Even if you’re not a Guns N’ Roses fan, this is an incredibly entertaining and shocking story to learn about what might be one of the most expensive albums ever to be made. Highly recommended!

Challenging Punk Stereotypes and Misconceptions in Punk Spirit!

 Punk Spirit! An Oral History of Punk Rock, Spirituality, and Liberation by John Malkin

Punk Spirit! book cover

Author and journalist John Malkin

Big thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of John Malkin’s interesting and insightful new book Punk Spirit! An Oral History of Punk Rock, Spirituality, and Liberation. I’m always interested in books about music, and especially those that examine genres like punk rock. Punk Spirit! follows in the tradition of some other great oral histories about punk like Please Kill Me, American Hardcore, and Our Band Could be Your Life in that it explores specific time periods in this music’s evolution through the words and experiences of those who were integral in creating the music, styles, and pushing its trajectory in different directions. John Malkin is a journalist and radio host whose extensive experience interviewing punks from across the world enables him to paint a colorful and diverse image of the varieties of punk rock. Not only do readers gain a comprehensive understanding of how spirituality, including both religion and social activism, has shaped punk rock over the past 50 years, but they will also see how Malkin and his subjects repeatedly push back against the stereotype that punk is a nihilistic and agnostic trend. Rather, Malkin’s subjects and his questions help to show how much of punk was shaped by constant questioning, questing, and rebelling against the currents, trends, standards, and norms that society often embraces, or in some cases, that the state enforces. I found this to be interesting especially considering how a lot of the 80s punk rock in America was rebelling against the Reagan republicans and the religious right that emerged. However, the first half of the book examines different aspects of spirituality and how the push for social justice and equality, challenging inequities in society, created a different kind of spiritual ethos in punk rock. Although this first half was a little less focused than the second half of the book, it was still interesting to hear from many punk luminaries and how their own views and ideas on spirituality challenged the dominant view that punk music was either nihilistic without any kind of hope or guidance for the future, or was completely individualistic and hedonistic—I’m thinking about the Circle Jerks song “Live Fast Die Young” or the sad examples of early deaths like Darby Crash, whose addiction seemed to snuff out an interesting, bright light. Malkin includes considerable interviews with Penelope Spheeris, whose Decline of the Western Civilization helped to capture the contradictions and worldviews of Crash, and these interviews present a different kind of side of Darby and the whole Germs movement. It was interesting to think more about how much punk rock relies on the same kind of community and fellowship as a church or religious movement, yet it isn’t always viewed in that kind of perspective. This was one of the themes that emerged from the first half of the book.

The second half of the book I liked a little more due to the focus for each of the chapters. While I enjoyed reading the chapters in the first half, I wish there was a little more contextualization or commentary from Malkin where he might provide some explanation of how he planned to organize these quotes and interviews. These earlier chapters did have titles and they seemed focused, but the quotes and interviews weren’t always set up or connected with other quotes, so it was a little hard to follow at times. The second half of the book dealt more with specific scenes and movements within punk rock. Beyond being more focused, I felt like I learned so much from these chapters. Although these chapters get really into the weeds, Malkin does provide more context and detail either from participants or scholars who researched these movements. For example, Chapter 11 “Church from Below” examined the East German Punks whose movement remained underground due to state surveillance and repression from the Stassi. Since the state could not prosecute religion, religious punk bands were able to play shows in churches and evade the same kind of scrutiny that other secular or political bands might face. Other chapters detailed the intersection of other religions and punk rock including Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. It was cool to learn more about Krishnacore and the whole 80s and 90s hardcore movement with Revelation Records since I remember seeing a lot of these albums, but not really being that into the music and really kind of questioning those Shelter album covers that featured Hindu deities. Books like American Hardcore got into earlier straight edge and vegetarian/Krishna bands like the Cro-Mags, but these books didn’t get too into their beliefs and ideas or how they influenced the later bands that emerged in the late 80s and 90s. It was interesting to learn more about them, as well as other movements to involve more spiritual practices in punk music like mediating and yoga. I also liked learning more about Michael Muhammad Knight, an author I’ve always wanted to check out and someone who I associated more with hip-hop than punk rock. It was interesting to learn more about how he more or less invented a punk rock style/genre that some even question whether it is real or not. Regardless, Chapter 23 details Haram and how Muslims use their experiences as minorities in punk rock to question inequality, racism, and racial profiling. Nader Haram’s own experience growing up Muslim in NYC post-9/11 was both heartbreaking and inspiring to see how he used punk rock as a means to challenge the kinds of inequality and Islamophobia he experienced. Although I felt that the latter half of the book was more focused and provided more context and explanation on the specific chapter’s focus, the earlier chapters are still interesting since they are largely comprised of the words of punk rock participants. Highly recommended! 

Such Great Heights: The Complete Cultural History of the Indie Rock Explosion by Chris DeVille

 Such Great Heights: The Complete Cultural History of the Indie Rock Explosion 

by Chris DeVille

Such Great Heights book cover

Author Chris DeVille

Big thanks to St. Martin’s Press and NetGalley for sending me Chris DeVille’s new, comprehensive history detailing indie rock’s influence and evolution over the past 25 years, Such Great Heights: The Complete Cultural History of the Indie Rock Explosion. While I enjoyed reading this book, I didn’t always agree with DeVille’s takes about indie rock, especially regarding how and what to include in the indie rock bins. Nevertheless, DeVille makes some good arguments about how indie rock was propelled forward by the evolving nature of the internet and social media, among other events, which continued to expand the types of music that was made, as well as how people listened to and interacted with music. If anything, I found that this book continued in the tradition of some other great books about musical genres that traced their evolution and development by examining the historical context as well as the audience growth and appeal. Such Great Heights reminded me of books like Michael Azerrad’s Our Band Could Be Your Life, which examined the rise of college music or what others might classify as “alternative” music, and Stephen Blush’s American Hardcore, which traces the punk and specifically hardcore music that resulted through the networking of van touring, DIY shows, zines and tape trading. Similarly, Such Great Heights posits the role of technology, and specifically the development of web 2.0 and its interactivity with promoting more independent music, that is, music that wasn’t necessarily reliant on major label production and promotion. In addition, DeVille notes how mp3s, free and eventually those available for .99 cents, shifted the nature of the music business, since record labels no longer had to put up money for packaging and distribution. This enabled smaller, independent record labels like Merge Records to save money on costs and develop better revenue sharing with their bands. This also made independent labels more appealing to artists looking to maintain their artistic vision and integrity. Thus, like other shifts in musical genres, the indie movement benefited from this changes to the industry and technology. I appreciated that DeVille works to define indie music not necessarily by the style, but rather as “a vast network of bands, labels, concert venues, record stores, radio stations, and homemade zines, which largely existed apart from the major-label system…. It was less a genre than a culture: a loose coalition of outsiders, idealists, elitists, critics, creatives, college students, and so forth.” It’s sometimes hard to define a type of music that encompasses so many different styles, and is really more reflective of the other elements related to the music. As a result, DeVille’s book chronicles many of the bands and artists, but also spends a lot of time examining the blogs, magazines, journalists, and platforms that helped to propel indie music to such great heights.

Such Great Heights was a fun read for me because, to quote the frequently referenced James Murphy of LCD Soundsystem, I was there when many of the bands in the early chapters started. It was completely fun to remember about the hype that The Strokes received in that summer before September 11^th. Especially as a recent college graduate who struggled to find work and then struggled with working full-time, music from new bands like The Yeah Yeah Yeahs and The Rapture and established bands like Radiohead and The Dismemberment Plan really brought a lot of joy to my life at a particularly joyless time in America. I actually remember going to Spaceboy records in Philly right before Labor Day 2001 and picking up an EP by The Rapture (Out of the Races and Onto the Tracks) because I heard it on WPRB, and thought it was so fun and different sounding that a lot of the music available. I don’t think I had regular internet access at the time, so a lot of new music came from listening to college stations. I also remember seeing The Yeah Yeah Yeahs at the Unitarian Church in February of 2002, after they released debut EP, but before they signed to a major label, and just being blown away by the sounds the three band members could make. In particular, Karen O was just so much fun to watch perform. Strangely enough, my son has gotten into the song “Maps”, and sometimes we watch older performances from the band. Regardless, it was fun to reminisce with DeVille in these sections of the book, since I remember how exciting this time was in discovering these bands, even though some of them, like Interpol and Radiohead, were signed to major labels, and weren’t necessarily “indie”. However, for DeVille, the genre was more about the style and not necessarily their status and affiliation. Also, I loved revisiting Dismemberment Plan and reading more about them. I only discovered this band through friends and a roommate in college, and they became a favorite of mine, especially for running. I still love when any of the songs from The Dismemberment Plan is Scared comes on during a run. As DeVille notes, the band has a kind of danceable, kinetic quality that wasn’t always a part of rock music in the 90s. Plus, they referenced Young MC and Rob Bass in their music, which was both funny and fun.

The next few chapters were also pretty fun and relevant, taking me back to a time when I had more disposable income and time to spare, when I could easily spend a few hours at the record store or splurge to go see a show on a weeknight. Although I had been a fan of Modest Mouse since my cousin made a mix with some songs in 2000, it was fun to recall how ubiquitous “Float On” was in the spring of 2004, remembering too how that song was a part of so many car trips in the early aughts; or how much the Franz Ferdinand debut was played on my walks to work or taking the subway home from night classes around that time; or how I somehow stumbled on the DFA sampler on iTunes after hearing LCD Soundsystem on WPRB. DeVille not only provides a detailed history of these bands and how they came about, but he also channels it through his own experience as a college student, musician, and music lover, sharing the joy and excitement in discovering “an alluring secret world”. Again, I loved this, since the music from this time has that kind of personal connection. There was so much in the early chapters that took me back to hanging out with friends, listening to music, and spending nights trying to find these songs on different file sharing sites or in later times, blogs.

I found the middle and later chapters enlightening, but also not as relatable since I was kind of losing my edge around the early 2010s, settling down and starting a family, my time for musical exploration was becoming contracting and in some ways fossilizing. It was actually funny to read about Odd Future and Tyler the Creator in Chapter 10 “Late Registration” since I was teaching an intro college course that year, and was seeing so many donut OF shirts. I was shocked, but also intrigued by this band and in particular by Tyler. I remember, too, getting into debates with a friend about the band. After reflecting a little more on my initial, visceral response to the band and wondering why so many white college students were interested in the band, it reminded me a lot of NWA, and how their kind of street knowledge scared so much of white, middle class America. Tyler’s Goblin album was both challenging and exciting, and I could tell that he was not only a creative force, but also seemed to be going through a lot of the kinds of struggles with identity that most adolescents experience. As DeVille notes, the themes and topics from OF were relevant to many kids, and was possibly one of the elements that made them so appealing to a larger demographic. This chapter also touched on how hip-hop and indie music formed a kind of creative bridge, expanding genres and opportunities to create new and unique sounds that wouldn’t have really happened in a pre-Judgement Night world. I also enjoyed Chapter 9’s focus on Chillwave and other kinds of psych-indie music that was evolving from the economic malaise of the early 2010s. I’m not sure if I completely agree that this music evolved from a desire to revert back to happier, analog nostalgia, but it was interesting to learn more about this style of music and see how it has led to the development of a kind of new ambient lo-fi genre. In fact, I was actually surprised to read about how much the worlds of hip-hop and indie rock cross pollinated around this time. Again, being on the outer edges of this book’s time period, I wasn’t as invested in some of these scenes and genres, so I learned a lot and was surprised about a lot.

DeVille’s writing is exciting and easy to follow; as he relates his own experiences to the music and shares his own accounts of shows and discovering the music for the first time, readers can also share in this joy and excitement. It’s one of the pleasures of this fun book. I didn’t realize how much music blogs and myspace helped to propel the popularity of indie music (along with films like Garden State and shows like The O.C.). Although the book focuses on music that was independent of major labels’ influence, DeVille explores how major labels, corporations, and tech companies all recognized the consumer potential for indie rock, and eventually sought to take advantage of its popularity, and how other artists that are on major labels were able to leverage indie artists to expand their popularity and audiences. That was the only disappointment in the book—that there was a lot of focus on major label artists, and how the attention from Pitchfork, Vice and other publications and platforms eventually moved the needle from indie to major labels. I guess that this kind of shift is also part of the story of indie music, and it was interesting to see how progressive major label artists were, sometimes, using their fame and influence to leverage more independent artists and possibly challenge their own audiences with new sounds and voices. Nevertheless, it does also seem like there’s another cynical and economic aspect to it. One thing that I also wondered about with this book was the continued explosion of different genres that have been subsumed by indie rock. In particular, the section on Chillwave was kind of funny to read about all the different variants. This also seems more like a way that algorithms and dedicated niche groups are involved, and that platforms can find a way to market to smaller, dedicated groups that allow them to feel a stronger connection to these genres. That is, I wonder whether some of the explosion of different genres is not necessarily the work of artistic vision, but rather savvy and targeted marketing by social media and streaming platforms. Maybe I’m getting too cynical as I’m losing my edge. Nevertheless, that’s what is so much fun about DeVille’s book—revisiting some of the most exciting and inventive times in recent music history.  It’s a detailed trip down memory lane with some newer avenues to explore and learn about other bands and artists, at least for me. Highly recommended!

P.S. Glad to see Pavement and Sebadoh mentioned in the book, but sad that Archers of Loaf’s “Plumb Line” was not mentioned—one of the earlier and best mentions of Indie Rock.

Your Favorite Band's Favorite Band

 Shouting Out Loud: Lives of the Raincoats 

by Audrey Golden

Shouting Out Loud book cover

Author Audrey Golden

Many thanks to Grand Central Publishing, Da Capo, and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Audrey Golden’s comprehensive and insightful Shouting Out Loud: The Lives of the Raincoats. This was a fascinating book about a band that I’ve heard of, but never really listened to. I’m glad that Golden’s interviews and archival work with the members of the band have prompted me to seek out The Raincoats’ work and learn more about their influence on many bands in the 90s and beyond. Like The Raincoats, Shouting Out Loud is hard to categorize as a specific genre of music writing. Golden has a great introduction in which she lays out her methodology for gathering the artifacts and interviews and organizing and analyzing them. Furthermore, members of the band, particularly Ana da Silva, had a rich archive of material from the band’s formation and initial run of shows and recordings from the late 70s and early 80s. Da Silva’s artifacts, along with those of other members and fans, provide excellent visual documentation that Golden also includes in her book. Golden explains that this synthesis of oral history and archival work allows for a rich layering that blends the various perspectives that memory brings with the artifacts that remain from that time-period. I also loved that Golden references Bakhtin in the book’s introduction to identify that The Raincoats’ music is part of its own unique chronotope, that is both shaped by the specific time and space of its time and has gone on to further influence other artists, particularly Kurt Cobain, Tobi Vail, and Kathleen Hanna among others. This is a really fascinating way to approach music scholarship, to show both how music is influenced by and further influences others.

The book is organized into 3 sections that examine different stages of the lives of The Raincoats. The first section examines how Gina and Ana met in the late 70s in London. Golden provides considerable context to different factors that led Ana and Gina to meet. I grew to appreciate some of these deep dives that provide a fuller context. For example, Golden details some of the history of Hornsey College of Art and how it was the center of leftist protest in the 60s and 70s. She also dives into squat life in 70s London, and how houses abandoned after WWII led to a creative scene in art and music that helped lead to British punk’s birth. This was cool to see as The Raincoats early years intertwined with not just the more well-known bands like The Clash (and the 101ers, Joe Strummer’s pre-Clash band), but also bands like The Slits, who seemed to influence Gina and Ana to form The Raincoats, X-Ray Specs, and This Heat. Not only does Golden’s research and archival work provide a richer context, but it helped to show how some of these other bands were more influential on the sound and spirit of The Raincoats and other bands of the time. Sometimes British punk’s origins are simplified and distilled to explain how The Ramones played England in the mid-70s, and that led to bands like The Clash and The Sex Pistols forming in order to play faster and louder than The Ramones. However, Golden’s analysis shows that British punk was not only tied to music, but also visual and performance arts, and was much more nuanced and expressive, providing voices to female artists who have often been pushed to the back of these short-sighted histories of British punk.

In addition to documenting The Raincoats’ formation, the first life of the band also examines their travels to other countries, in particular being the first punk band to play in Communist Poland, where music and expression were limited and regulated by the government. Again, Golden’s deep dive into the context of this time period provides an important layer to the story of The Raincoats to explore not only the kind of values they had exploring free expression and art, but also the kinds of artistic risks they took. This section of the book also examines their relationship with Rough Trade, the record store/label that recorded and put out their records, and their efforts to work with a drummer, which seemed to be a recurring theme throughout the book. Throughout this section, I also learned much about the process of recording songs and developing the art for their records. Although Rough Trade was an artist friendly organization that ultimately split profits with their bands, the band was still challenged with recording their work and maintaining their distinct sound and vision when working with engineers and producers who didn’t always share the same vision and values. Again, Golden’s contextualization of the music scene and industry in the late 70s and early 80s helps to show how both the need for a kind of commercial audience and the kinds of patriarchal influences in the engineering and production aspects of the music industry presented unique challenges to The Raincoats.

The middle section focuses on the 2^nd life of The Raincoats, and not only examines what the members were up to after they disbanded around 1984, but also how their albums and music eventually made its way to the US and ended up in Olympia, WA, home of Evergreen State, whose students included Bruce Pavitt, Slim Moon, Kathleen Hanna, Corin Tucker, and Carrie Brownstein, among others. It was at Evergreen where Pavitt eventually discovered The Raincoats and began playing them on his radio show. It was so interesting to see how a band’s influence spread over analog methods pre-internet, and how a band could have such an influence on others. Eventually, Kurt Cobain came to discover The Raincoats, and his story documenting his meeting Ana da Silva in London was included in the liner notes for Incesticide. This 2^nd life of The Raincoats was also fascinating since Kurt’s proclamations about the band helped to renew interest and eventually led to new distribution deals and tour plans with Nirvana, that sadly never materialized after Cobain’s death. Furthermore, it was interesting to learn more about the record industry as DGC signed The Raincoats, but the band again were challenged by the commercial aims of a major label like DGC who were looking for the next Nirvana. In addition to the influence on Nirvana, Golden also examines how The Raincoats influenced other bands from the 80s and 90s, including Sonic Youth and bands from Kill Rock Stars. While sonically there may be differences, it was more the ethos and spirit of The Raincoats, making music and art in their own distinct voices and challenging the dominant systems of the music industry, that appealed to so many artists and fans in the 90s. Although their initial plans for touring ended after Cobain’s death, The reformed Raincoats were able to tour later in the 90s and create new music while also re-releasing their original albums with new distribution deals. I also found it interesting to learn how democratic they remained in decision making for their original albums, keeping in contact with other musicians who contributed to their earliest albums.

The last section focuses on the 3^rd life of The Raincoats, which seems to take place within the last 25 years or so. This section also focuses on the band’s legacy, but also how the current members have continued to keep active in the art world and continue to produce and record art and music. It also examines their influence on more recent musicians, and how much of their work has become collaborative with other bands and artists, especially as they seem to continually be in search of drummers. There’s a fascinating story about their quest for a producer for a new album, that eventually leads them to John Cale. Given the similarities with some of the earlier Velvet Underground work and Cale’s unique artistic vision, I was a little surprised to hear about his production requirements. Yet, I think it also showed how The Raincoats continually faced challenges from producers and engineers to try to record their unique sound. Furthermore, it seemed like this anecdote reinforced the strength and intuition of the band to maintain their vision and voice. Furthermore, it’s interesting to see the band’s inclusion in art retrospectives in galleries and museums that capture not only the birth of punk, but also clearly emphasize women’s unique roles in this art and cultural movement. Golden emphasizes here that these elements are not separate strands, but rather intertwined threads within punk, clearly demonstrating how The Raincoats strengthened those bonds between art, culture, and music. I loved learning more about how Gina and Ana continued to make music on their own, frequently learning new instruments and using new technology. There’s a quote from one of Gina’s daughters towards the end of the book where she summarizes her mom’s ethos as “there’s never been a question of, ‘Could I do it?’ The mantra is always, ‘You’re trying to do something you’ve never done before? Well, why not!’…Because of my mum and dad, my brain has been wired not to question whether I could do something, but to try to figure out how to do it. And that’s super punk.” I loved this quote since it provides a great way to think not only the spirit of punk rock, but more importantly the influence of The Raincoats that helped to shape much of the music from the 90s and beyond. To paraphrase Q-Tip, it’s like this book is about your favorite band’s favorite band. I highly recommend this look at the influence of The Raincoats, and I’m so grateful to Golden for her layered and detailed look at not just the band but the various influences both on and from the band. 

Trailblazing Feminist Musician Memoir

 Rebel Girl: My Life as a Feminist Punk by Kathleen Hanna

Rebel Girl book cover

Thank you to NetGalley and Harper Collins for allowing me to preview Kathleen Hanna’s Rebel Girl. This book was amazing—I didn’t realize how much fun it would be, and Hanna’s ability to make some of the most fraught and emotionally challenging moments of her life kind of humorous made this book highly engaging. Furthermore, her work in music and art, and as a feminist activist bringing “girls to the front” also made this book an important read for anyone interested in art, music, culture, and politics. About 12 years ago, I had the opportunity to sit in on a discussion on Kathleen Hanna and Sara Marcus, author of Girls to the Front, at University of Pennsylvania’s Kelly House. At the time, I wasn’t that familiar with Bikini Kill or Le Tigre, but I kind of knew about them tangentially. I went with some friends who were more into Riot Girl and Zines. It was interesting to learn more about this movement, but Hanna’s book (and Sara Marcus’s book as well) provide some more insight. I’m not a major Bikini Kill fan, but I appreciate their music—it’s on my running playlists, since I really like the fast beats. After reading this book, I now want to listen to more of Kathleen Hanna’s work with Le Tigre and Julie Ruin.

This book was a blast to read, and I didn’t expect that. One of the themes that Hanna repeatedly revisits is how her reputation often precedes her—and sadly this is something that happens to a lot of women and girls. I assumed that this would be a serious and angry book by an angry feminist. I don’t have anything against that, but I was unprepared for how funny this book would be. Even cringeworthy moments Hanna shares about her early life, growing up, and her family are presented in a kind of humorous reflection. If anything, this book also helps to reassert misconceptions about feminism and how it is more about empowerment than putting down men. I hope that other men also read this book to gain a better understanding on feminism in music and the importance of feminism for society. There are some serious moments and some points that made me pause and just kind of be shocked about some of the things her father did. However, I appreciated her ability to look back on these moments and claim them as something that has ultimately made her stronger and provided her with ways of dealing with difficult people, especially difficult men. I also think it’s helpful for me, as a man and a father, to read about these challenging experiences to remind myself of how not to act and to be aware of the potential challenges and dangers that my daughter might experience. Beyond her family life, it’s important to identify how other social institutions like school, arts, and work can serve as barriers to authentic participation and contributions for many women. In much the same way as Crying in H Mart, Michelle Zauner’s amazing memoir about becoming an artist and musician, Hanna shares about the challenges of becoming a musician and developing as a female musician in predominantly male spaces. It was great to read about how she worked with other women to develop their own spaces and about the steps she took to make girls more comfortable and empowered at shows.

I also liked how there were kind of like different styles of writing for the different periods of her life. Hanna’s childhood is reflected with some humor, where she provides self-deprecating remarks about her musical choices, dress, and participation in activities. I also liked reading about “Good Times” her sister and their relationship. As she goes to college, her writing becomes more serious, but she also develops more detail and analysis of her experiences, highlighting the kinds of inequalities and barriers she experienced that motivated her to continue to advocate and push for greater opportunities and equality. I really enjoyed reading about her art and the process of developing her art. I wasn’t aware of this part of her background, but I can see her photography and art background in much of the Bikini Kill artwork. It was also fascinating to learn more about the Olympia and K Records scene, even if it is not a huge part of the book. Kurt Cobain looms large in the book, and I wasn’t aware of how close Kathleen Hanna and him were (I knew about the Teen Spirit influence from Tobi Vail). It was really interesting to see how Hanna participated and helped develop the Olympia scene, and also spread the scene for women around the country by touring, sharing and publishing zines, and sending out postcards and mailers. Reading about this kind of information sharing in the pre-internet days is fascinating and I can see how much work it was to develop these kinds of connections and empower other young women to start their own bands and zines. I found these parts to be some of the most powerful and engaging—I really enjoyed learning about how her work with Bikini Kill led to more participation for women in music. Another part of the book that was great to read was her love for Adam Horovitz, AKA Ad Rock from the Beastie Boys. I didn’t realize how long they were together, and just reading about the first time she noticed him was so sweet and endearing. There’s a great story about a Beastie Boys poster that I won’t spoil, but again, it highlights some of the humor in her writing. She also addresses some other serious points in her life with a kind of humor that is hard to imagine, but I also think it is what makes her so tough and able to manage these challenging situations. 

I didn’t realize how much Kathleen Hanna’s bands related to many of the other groups and musical scenes I followed in college. Reading about her experiences developing the Zine scene and Bikini Kill was exciting, interesting, and took me back to other experiences of being around bands and artists in my late teens and early 20s. Not only was this book enjoyable to see about how an artist and activist developed her voice and helped create an important musical scene and social movement, but it was also a fun and engaging read with some awesome pictures for each chapter. I highly recommend this book, and I hope that her experience writing this memoir also allows Kathleen Hanna to write another book, whether it be focused on artistic development or advocating for equity and justice. 

The Power of Picket Fences: A Band Biography for R.E.M.

 The Name of This Band is R.E.M.-A Biography by Peter Ames Carlin

The Name of This Band is R.E.M. book cover

Author Peter Ames Carlin

R.E.M. in concert in Italy by Stefano, CC BY-SA 2.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

R.E.M. collage -A derivative work by CityFeedback ,CC BY-SA 2.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Thank you to Doubleday Books and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of Peter Ames Carlin’s detailed and entertaining book The Name of This Band is R.E.M. A Biography. Although I am not an R.E.M. fanatic, they were definitely a part of my musical development. I think that any person who grew up in the 90s would have to say that R.E.M. was a part of their musical life since the band was ubiquitous in so many good ways during the late 80s and throughout the 90s. It was fun to read this book, reminiscing about listening to “Pop Song ‘89”, “Stand”, and “Orange Crush” from a dubbed cassette, probably borrowed from a classmate with an older sibling. In fact, I loved “Pop Song ‘89” since it was like one of the first songs I really remember the singer addressing me. I especially liked the overdubbed “Hi, hi…” R.E.M. helped to change the way I thought about music and especially the ways that I thought about videos. I also learned about some of their older songs once I got to high school and my musical tastes were further expanded by new friends with different tastes (and older siblings as well). Plus, alternative radio in the Philadelphia area had a cool radio station that played some of the older R.E.M. songs, and I usually stayed up late on Sunday nights to watch 120 Minutes, so I remember the videos for “The One I Love” and “It’s the End of the World as We Know It”, especially since R.E.M. really challenged the concept of videos, making short films rather than using it as a promotional tool for the band. This was definitely apparent once Out of Time and Automatic for the People were released. In any event, Carlin’s book provides great insight into the band’s evolution, as well as to what went on during those video shoots and how the band’s insistence in kind of refusing the more traditional trappings of rock stardom during the 80s led to a unique and transformative approach to video stardom, and R.E.M. becoming one of the biggest bands at the time.

I typically love most books about music, especially rock music, and reading about a time period and music that I’m familiar with and grew up with is really appealing to me. Carlin’s book also taught me a lot since I wasn’t completely familiar with R.E.M.’s backstory (besides learning from the awesome Pavement song “UnseenPower of the Picket Fence”). This book provides a great history of the Athens, GA music scene, establishing where the band members came from and how they met and started making music. As Eddie Vedder noted in the band’s Hall of Fame enshrinement, it’s really cool that two of the members met at a record store discussing music. I also liked learning about their different influences, and learning how Michael Stipe was really influenced by Patti Smith, and the other members had different influences. I was aware that the Athens scene produced some great bands (obviously aware of the B52s and Pylon), but it was also fun to learn about how the band practiced together and really developed an organic sense of work and song writing. In some ways, the band kind of reminded me of Fugazi, as Joe Gross detailed in his 33 1/3 book on In on the Kill Taker. R.E.M. had no intention of becoming big stars, but rather sought to make music and art, and thus worked together and separate to create their music. It’s really cool to see how bands can kind of develop these organic methods of working and bring everything together.

Carlin’s book follows the band through their early recordings and their eventual deal with IRS Records, who helped the band become one of the most popular left of the dial/college radio bands of the 80s. I really enjoyed this part of the band’s history since it was not something I was too familiar with, and it also reminded me of some other great books about college rock bands like Trouble Boys by Bob Mehr about the Replacements and Our Band Could Be Your Life by Michael Azerrad. Incidentally, I think I remember reading in Azerad’s book that the Minutemen toured with R.E.M. and had a kind of bad experience with them. I was a little disappointed to not see mention of the other bands that R.E.M. may have helped (or hurt) along the way. Regardless, it was interesting to read more about this phase of the music scene, and just how different it was to develop a following for a band. In some ways, I could also see R.E.M.’s influence on Pavement in that they really didn’t want to do much promotion. However, that seems to change after the release of Document when the band eventually moves to Warner Brothers for Green.

Carlin’s narration is unique in that he focuses on eras of the band, but certain chapters are devoted either to the music or to different band members. I appreciated this structuring and the organization of the book. There was a good flow, and it allowed us to get to know the different members of the book, even if they did not participate in the book’s development (which I found out at the end of the book). Nevertheless, Carlin’s research and interviews with friends and colleagues of the band helped to piece together meaningful events and characteristics of the band members. For example, I really enjoyed learning about Michael Stipe’s interest in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and seeing how he was both somewhat shy and outspoken about certain things. An early news interview at one of the midnight showings of the movie helped to illustrate this kind of dual nature of someone who both seemed to love and be wary of the spotlight. In thinking about how R.E.M. differed from most mainstream MTV 80s and 90s bands, I can see how the experiences and values of Michael Stipe and other band members impacted their approach to stardom. What’s even more amazing is how they mostly maintained this approach to fame and rock stardom as their popularity continued to grow. Carlin’s analysis of the band shows that while they sought to maintain their stance, the move to Warner Bros brought about changes. However, it also seemed like the band also brought changes to music and popular culture. As Carlin mentioned towards their later tours, the band had a more family vibe towards it and had more beer and wine over the hard liquor and drugs that are often a part of rock excess. However, I also think it’s important to note how their videos were so much more conceptual than many other bands. Carlin repeatedly reminds readers that Stipe hated to lip synch, and refused to do so for older videos (which I didn’t realize). The band also didn’t like fake playing their instruments, so a video like “Stand” or “Shiny Happy People” makes sense in how ridiculous the band acts in aping their musicianship. At the time, I thought it was kind of goofy, but I see how they were both uncomfortable with bending their values and stances towards musicianship, but also kind of making fun of videos at the same time. With Out of Time and Automatic for the People, we see how the band expanded their pallet to use a bigger budget and wider audience to explore the visual elements of their art. Videos for “Losing My Religion” and “Everybody Hurts” (a personal favorite) not only emphasized the themes of their music, but also inspired other acts who took videos to new artistic heights. I can see a direct relationship between the video for “Losing my Religion” and “Heart Shaped Box”. I

The latter quarter of the book looks at the band in the 21^st century as their star starts to wane, but their musicianship goes in different directions, and the band’s identity is threatened with the loss of drummer Bill Berry, who left in 1997. The work with different drummers, but also begin to bring in different musical styles and experiment more with electronics and other styles of music. I think it’s important to note that this is also around the time of Radiohead’s OK Computer and follow up Kid A, which also took the band in a more electronic exploratory dimension. This was both an exciting a strange time for music, as bands in the post Nirvana era gravitated more towards experimentation as pop music veered towards younger solo stars and boy bands (I’m purposely ignoring the rise of Nu Metal and Rap Rock here). Carlin notes that as R.E.M. continued to create and experiment, their albums just didn’t chart in the same way. Interestingly, they continued  to have more single success in Europe and especially in the UK; however, their American success was never replicated, and their albums performed worse and worse. Carlin speculates that this could have been due to changes in popular tastes and the transition to less rock oriented popular music, but he also considers the early rise of file sharing sites like Napster and digital streaming like iTunes, that also moved music away from albums and more towards singles as a musical commodity. Throughout these industry changes, R.E.M. continued to receive critical praise with their albums. I also liked learning about what the band is up to today, learning how they are still engaged in music, and how they continue to engage in charity and consciousness raising activities, another value that the band was known for helping to contribute to MTV during the 90s. In fact, I looked up the band members as I was reading the book, and saw that Michael Stipe had recently campaigned for democrats. It’s cool to see how they remain committed to voting rights and encouraging people to vote. That’s another thing I appreciated about the band’s contribution to MTV—as a viewer or fan, you could always learn about their position about important topics, even if it was just encouraging people to register and vote.

I really enjoyed Carlin’s book, and it made me appreciate R.E.M. even more. I really hadn’t thought about them that much, and wasn’t the biggest fan, but reading about their earlier work made me realize how important they were to the college radio music of the 80s and the alternative music scene of the 90s. It’s kind of weird because I don’t usually think of them as punk rock, nor do I think of them as bands that were contemporaries of more alternative 90s bands like The Pixies or Nirvana since R.E.M. was so popular and massive in the 90s. However, they had humble origins and were able to maintain a lot of their artistic integrity in making music. Furthermore, they had an important role in challenging a lot of artists and bringing more art to videos and other programming on MTV, raising the bar and the consciousness of young, impressionable viewers and listeners. Carlin’s detailed research and interviews helped to flesh out a band that was somewhat elusive and reserved in talking about themselves, and helps to paint a pleasant portrait of the evolution and development of one of the 20^th century’s most consequential rock bands. Although I mentioned that I would have liked to learn more about the bands that toured with R.E.M. and their influence on these bands (like the Minutemen), I also think the book would have benefitted form more images and photos. I’m not sure if as an advanced copy, there weren’t any photos available, but I would have loved to see the album covers and art work, since it was such a prominent part of R.E.M.’s artistic ethos. Furthermore, I think that seeing video stills and concert photos would have been great too. I’m not sure if there are photos of the band in the studio, but that would have also been interesting to see. I also wish that Carlin talked about R.E.M.’s decision to allow the use of “Stand” as the theme song to the show Get A Life with Chris Elliot. I absolutely loved that show, and I totally associate the song with that show, even though it probably came out 3-4 years before the show. I was wondering how this reflected the band’s popularity, what went into their decision to license the song to a sitcom, and if it was even their decision. Finally, I know Carlin talked a little bit about “Radio Song”, a song and video that paired R.E.M. with KRS-ONE; it was such a strange pairing that I wish there was more discussion about what went into this song. I actually liked this song, and the video was kind of cool. KRS-ONE has always been a favorite rapper, and yet this song is never discussed in other pairings of rap and rock like “Walk This Way”. However, I think this song fell somewhere after Sonic Youth’s “Kool Thing” with Chuck D and the Judgement Night soundtrack, which had some grungy bands (including Sonic Youth and Pearl Jam). I wasn’t sure if this song might have been influenced by Sonic Youth’s “Kool Thing” since SY had a more under the radar trajectory than R.E.M. Nevertheless, maybe I can research and analyze more about this. Carlin’s book has given me much to think about and even more to listen to—not just R.E.M.’s early output, but some of the other great Athens’ bands. I highly recommend this book, especially if you grew up during the 90s.