Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Honey, I miss your two-toned kisses.
So I finally slogged through Robert Greenfield's Exile on Main Street. Ugh.
The book goes nowhere and Greenfield writes like an affected theater director; some lines actually reek of pancake make-up, they play to the back rows so hammily. In fact, the goddamn thing is structured like a play, so he invites this. Also, for a guy to call out other authors for their sources, it takes a lot of chicklets to turn around and use Wikipedia as a source, multiple times, and to admit as much in text. The book isn't even that insightful, just a lot of jerking off to the Stones' decadence. I get it.
Anyway, if you want to read a book about the Stones (which you probably don't), go with Old God Almost Dead or The True Adventures of the Rolling Stones. Not so much bullshit.
The book goes nowhere and Greenfield writes like an affected theater director; some lines actually reek of pancake make-up, they play to the back rows so hammily. In fact, the goddamn thing is structured like a play, so he invites this. Also, for a guy to call out other authors for their sources, it takes a lot of chicklets to turn around and use Wikipedia as a source, multiple times, and to admit as much in text. The book isn't even that insightful, just a lot of jerking off to the Stones' decadence. I get it.
Anyway, if you want to read a book about the Stones (which you probably don't), go with Old God Almost Dead or The True Adventures of the Rolling Stones. Not so much bullshit.