I remember when Neil Strauss wrote for Rolling Stone (does he still?) and, along with a very few others, was the closest thing to a reporter I'd met in the music industry. Mostly for fans of Navarro this book is a scrapbook of photo booth photos (all unidentified - some obviously recognizable), limited & somewhat stilted prose by Strauss (some of the cliches are REALLY painful) and Navarro, supposed transcripts of conversations, even a diary entry from one of Navarro's "girlfriends." It makes for a quick and somewhat compelling read, albeit a sad portrait of drug addiction, self-obsession, and really, selfishness. Also a good reminder to me why I quit working with musicians.
Labels: 52 books 52 weeks, books, Dave Navarro, L.A., musicians, Neil Strauss, rock books, why I don't like rock stars
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