Bought in Union Square, NY, and on my book shelf for at least two years, possibly three, before I got round to reading it because I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a post-reader of the book – being a pre-reader usually helps avoid disappointment.
Not your usual ‘rock star’ (or whatever) crappy book. This guy has some serious stuff to say, not only here but in his music, and is way more articulate and interesting than many of his contemporaries. An easy going everyday prose makes it a light read, whilst the subject matter clashes harshly with this, making it even more of an essential read to boot.
E has to be in contention for the title of ‘Least bull-shitty music performer alive today with the vast majority of his/her dignity in tact,’ and so you’d be foolish to pass this one by…
He also sports the most awesome beard, but that’s extraneous at best.