|
|
Book Review: So You Want To Be a Rock & Roll Star Semisonic's drummer comes clean about the realities of musical fame. So You Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star Rock & Roll memoirs are supposed to include stark descriptions of daybreaks spent in demolished hotel rooms snuffling yayo from between the pockmarked thighs of Reno hookers. Often included are recollections of musicians drunkenly piloting the tour bus into crowds of pre-teen fans and later making stage props from their delicate corpses. Then the artist overdoses on an armful of Afghani Northern Alliance Pure, finds God or swan dives into poverty -- each a happenstance necessitating a career change from rocking to writing. The saga of Jacob Slichter, the drummer of late-90’s band Semisonic (best known for bar-clearing anthem “Closing Time”), includes no sex or drugs. Taken primarily from web-posted tour diaries, the account of the group’s journey from struggling Minnesota indie act to a Grammy nominated one-hit wonder contains not a solitary backstage backshot or backstage Jack shot. Slichter claims to simply be a heterosexual who avoids alcohol, but the terms “teetotaling planarian” or “Mormon echinoderm” work magnificently. Here is Slichter at his most hand-wringingly sordid: “I practiced my own more insidious form of the rock-and-roll cult of male vanity and power. Occasionally, in the backstage hallways, I might have a conversation with a young woman whose eyes and body language expressed sexual interest, and I encouraged this with my tone and posture.” Jacob wisely snowshoes away from the slippery slope leading from bawdy posing to meth-ridden horse orgies. But the author’s squeaky-clean persona and queer fascination with striped shirts and bronzed haircuts do not diminish the effectiveness of So You Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star. Most musicians are presented as beautiful creatures endowed with unfair dosages of talent and charisma, but Slichter takes pains to portray himself as a nervous herb that sort of lucked his way into Semisonic. Panic attacks, awkward interviews, celebrity blow-offs and lousy press photo facial expressions are frequent. This is just a normal guy -- albeit asexual -- that loved music and managed to hustle a brief career out of it. But for all of his honesty in divulging deep-rooted insecurities and petty vanities, Slichter doesn’t do as effective a job in fleshing out the personalities of his bandmates, manager or labor overseers; distinguishing between Dan or Jay and Bob and the rest of those fuckers is too boring for readers to be bothered with. The blame for the blandness can likely be attributed to the challenges of accurately sharpening fuzzy memories as well as Slichter’s reluctance to offend. Almost anyone he criticizes goes unnamed, which makes So You Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star a half-ass entry in the tell-all category. But this isn’t a kiss-n-snitch. Despite the book’s lack of blind-eyed boozing and groupie fondling, Slichter delivers an effective first-hand primer on the realities of Rock & Roll semi-stardom. With plain-spoken explanations of publishing deals, payola, promotion and overseas touring, So You Want To Be a Rock & Roll Star is a worthy read for anyone interested in signing his life – we mean his name -- on a major record label contract. Slichter makes it clear that Newports and Puma Sweats are about all that can be expected. Read more articles in Arts » |
What if Rupert's acquisition of the Wall Street Journal is just the beginning? Coming to grips with being famous on the world wide web. A reexamination of St. Patrick's worthiness as the don dada of Irish sainthood. The War Report: Storch versus Timbaland, Chimps versus Humans, Dick Cheney versus Iran. Compared to the thrill of going to war, getting out of one is a tiresome and humiliating business. The Game's new album is pretty good, Fabolous hires a private gumshoe and all Republicans are gay. |
