Ugh, I hate doing this, but I put it down and I just can't bring myself to pick it back up. Most of that's due to a few newer books that I'm just more excited about at present.
*edit* I finally finished this on vacation. To be honest the last third or so kind of drug out in a way that I hated, with the story getting more and more fanciful as it went on. I get building to a climax, I do... but the payoff just wasn't there. Overall, it really really wasn't bad (I'm worried my review seems harsh!) it was just too much. On the definite plus side, Coupland's dark humor and witticism shines through, as always.
When I was 16-ish this book made me want to start up a zine. I made two whole editions with a few friends and called it quits. Who the fuck even wants to read the narcissistic ramblings of a couple of teenagers who think they're so much more "well-informed" (wink, wink, E&M) than the general populace? It's somewhat inspiring, but totally just a nostalgia for that time-period, like people who still like & listen to Nirvana, I could never bring myself to re-read this even if I wanted to. Not that I'd ever want to...
All the bands I expected to see on this list are on this list, with very few surprises. I was a bit taken aback by the level of pretentiousness and elitism, who would ever have expected such a thing from pitchfork? ... oh wait.
FANTASTIC breakdown of Morrissey's songs, giving lots of juicy little factoids for all those crazed fans who pride themselves in knowing the most obsolete Moz trivia... AKA, all of his fans, am I right?
Often times... Er, all the time... this account of what supposedly happened between Morrissey and Johnnny Marr is overly wordy and it probably contradicts itself a dozen times over. It's worth a read, but have at least a tablespoon of salt on hand to take it with.
This book reminds me entirely too much of one of my best friendships from back in high school, right down to the soundtrack. Naturally that means I formed quite the attachment to the characters and I really didn't want it to end... Much like said friendship. But, that's life I s'pose.
As much as I typically don't enjoy "road narratives," (cough, Kerouac, cough) I found this to be absolutely fantastic. Granted, it's Chuck Klosterman, so I expected as much. Actually, I might have underestimated the power of this book going into it. Some of the events it covers I didn't care that much for, but others were very near & dear to me - such as visiting the Buddy Holly crash site. I also tend enjoy the tender morbidity of facing one's mortality... That's normal though, right?
Okay, for as much as I love C.K. I just could NOT get into this book. I guess it's the whole "not giving a fuck about heavy metal and/or North Dakota" bit that did it...