I like the Sex Pistols ’ music but was only vaguely aware of their history, so England’s Dreaming made for an interesting and, at times, conflicting read. I find it easy to get caught up in an ideal of punk I manufacture in my head based on the lyrics and stances of bands I appreciate. I’m conflicted after having read this. A lot of what you’ve heard of the Pistols and their penchant for self-destruction is backed up in these pages. Their existence was dark, transgressive and rebellious, but the genesis of the whole thing is something I find troubling. I was unaware of the degree to which Malcom McLaren was involved in the band’s choices and direction. Which, yes, I know managers are heavily involved in most successful musical endeavors but this felt exceptional. The band asked for McLaren’s involvement, but that involvement went from input, guidance and influence to control. The evolution of the band paralleled changes to the clothing shop owned by McLaren and Vivienne Westwood. McLaren was involved in lineup decisions, the name, the aesthetic, the lyrics. As the band courted controversy, there came the adoption of personas, confrontations with fans, authorities and labels, fights over money and even a movie that McLaren was deeply invested in. Every band, every artist has a story. This left me feeling as though the Pistols were more manufactured than authentic. They helped establish an attitude and imagery but the history described here makes them look like more of a stage managed product than an authentic institution.
It is a hallmark of failing societies I’ve learned, this requirement that one always be in possession of a valid reason to exist. This is a haunting, beautifully written book and the framing implicit in the title and what the book posits is that you're either against the reality of what's happening now or will be given the numbness and separation that comes with time. Will you take that stand now while you can make a difference? Will you stand to risk and lose so much less than what so many have already lost? These are seen as difficult questions but they aren't, really, given the scale of the tragedy in Gaza. One day, when it’s safe, when there’s no personal downside to calling a thing what it is, when it’s too late to hold anyone accountable, everyone will have always been against this. I'd like to believe that calling this event a genocide, an accurate description, isn't dissent or transgression or declaration of allegiance. It's a recognition that loss of life is fundamentally tragic, on all sides. Opposition to loss of life and mass human suffering isn't an endorsement, it's a necessary stance in the face of so much tragedy. Loss on one side does not justify wanton violence being inflicted on those of whom the perpetrators hide among. But, for now, we argue, in this part of the world, the part not reduced to rubble, about how words make us feel. The author deftly weaves this tragedy together with vignettes from his own life, it's vaguely narrative and a bit dreamlike. It's grounded in his experience and understanding of the world and his perspective of feeling out of place both by being who he is and knowing what he believes. It's overwhelming to know what's happening is tragic and maddening to know that, while it's discussed, nothing is done. Words are exchanged and no action is taken. Whose non-existence is necessary to the self-conception of this place? And how uncontrollable is the rage whenever that non-existence is violated? So, yes, mourn what has been lost on all sides. But that recognition does not absolve you of the responsibility to take action while suffering continues unabated.
I was applying for a college cybersecurity camp and wrote this absolute monster that amounts to an overview of my life in tech so far (till 16)
As memoirs go this was thorough, lovingly crafted and unsparing in its treatment of its central figure. Kurt was troubled — tortured even — and deeply flawed. Many musicians are, but he was more than most. He had a shattered, tumultuous childhood in a small town, passed around his family like little wanted luggage. He had friends, he had hangers on, he had more pets than he could handle and no home at all. He had a love of music, a compulsion to create art, perverse screeds committed to journals and endless mysterious pain. A lot of this led to self medication, his friends tried to hold him back. Artists can be troubled and generalizing is hardly fair — art can come from many places and inspirations. Kurt was certainly troubled and that was reflected in everything he created. He reached artistic and professional peaks that many can only dream of. He also spiraled down rapidly. Chronic pain and the money to treat it in any way possible is a toxic combination. Krist, his management, Pat Smear, Courtney and Francis (among others) all either sought to help Kurt, save him from himself or buoy him. That none of it worked is tragic. That none of it worked feels predictable. : Dave’s absence from the book feels conspicuous given that he was a third of their most successful lineup. Perhaps there’s a story there.
An absolutely superb — superb — biography of one of the best players playing (and to have played) the game of basketball. Mike Singer does a brilliant job presenting Jokić as exactly who he is: a brother, a father, a huge fan of horse racing and a supremely gifted basketball player. If you've ever watched Jokić vivisect your favorite basketball team while looking bored the whole time it becomes easy to dislike him. But when you step back and appreciate what you're watching — objectively — it's hard not to appreciate how brilliant the guy is. That he's also so grounded and humble speaks volumes. If you're a basketball fan, go get this. You need it.
Another compelling exploration of a unique and important album by Steven Hyden. I didn’t “get” or appreciate Radiohead until well after Kid A came out but it’s now one of the first Radiohead albums I’ll reach for. Hyden capably explores the album’s creation, reception and impact, framing it within his perception of the band at the time and that of fellow fans. Exploring albums like Kid A in the context of their impact — rather than a sterile retelling of their creation — does a lot to drive home the connections fans have with the music and makes for a great read. I really enjoy how Hayden approaches albums in this fashion. I look forward to reading about whichever album he chooses next.
I grew up after the Challenger tragedy occurred and — as such — didn't have a personal connection or framing for the disaster. Higginbotham does an outstanding job crafting a narrative, humanizing the victims of the disaster and ruthlessly layout out the evidence. The aspirations embodied in the space shuttle program and its astronauts were admirable but the pace, willful disregard for highlighted safety concerns and a demonstrably unsafe focus on the pace with which the program was pushed led to disaster (and who knows how many others were barely avoided).
Pack a barf bag and an open mind. A bizarre and interesting read — I'm glad they're alright (sounds like they're lucky that's the case).
Dave Cullen's investigation of the Columbine tragedy makes for a compelling read and I say this as someone aware of the tragedy but also as someone who hasn't studied it in detail outside of this reading. It's a hard book to read and it's hard to put down. Cullen spares no time diving into a detailed description of the tragedy, filling out the rest of the book with an investigation into Harris and Klebold's motives and history, the failings of the police department on the day of and after the events and the far-reaching ramifications of it all. The victims are given ample team and treated with care (as they well should be). Cullen doesn't speak to or — really — mention any bullying that the perpetrators may have been subject to but, frankly, given what they did, it's hard to care. Their actions were monstrous and, while understanding motives may be worth pursuing for the sake of being thorough, they're utterly undeserving of any sympathy. There's not really any room — in my mind — for criticizing the author for failing to humanize them when they quite clearly saw their victims as anything but.
A capable and thorough retelling of Bad Religion's history — it touched on many things I didn't know about the band or hadn't previously explored. I do remember wandering through record stores in my cross buster t-shirt picking up their discography bit by bit. They're influential and one of the longest-running bands among their peers. The book itself is well written, but doesn't escape the band's own retelling of their history, for better or worse. Highly recommended for fans of the band, casual or otherwise — I found myself listening to their albums more as I made my way through it and taking the time to check out some of their newer material that they cover at the tail end of the book.