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"Jam-packed with juiciness." --Entertainment Weekly
"Hot tub reading at its very tingliest." --National Post
"Explosive...You'd have to be fairly high-minded not to be curious." --The Telegraph
"Breathless." --Bloomberg News--This text refers to the
About the Author
Christopher Andersen is the critically acclaimed author of thirty books that have been translated into more than twenty-five languages, including fourteen New York Times bestsellers. He lives with his family in Connecticut.
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Hardcover: 384 pages
Publisher: Gallery Books; First Edition edition (July 10, 2012)
I don't expect anyone to approve of this review, and that's fine. Because unlike the author of the book, I'm telling the truth.
I was part of the music scene in the 1960s. I have also written (and read many) biographies. I'd hoped this book would be a true story about Mick's life, but the author makes assumptions, "quotes" things people said while alone one-on-one forty-five years ago, tells in detail what people did while completely and utterly alone, and fails to give any footnotes or a bibliography for what at best are educated speculations and at worst are flat-out lies. It gives a canary/butter/sunny neon yellow tinge to the term "yellow journalism."
The Stones have always been my favorite rock group. I spent marginal time with them during the 1960s and I've seen them time and again, from the first tame (and yes, they were tame) American concerts in 1964 through the E-ticket Disneyland rides decades later. A lot of what the author seems to think went on just didn't happen. I was there and I have absolutely no reason to lie.
I don't get it. Why write another National Enquirer-quality book about a cultural icon ... other than to make a buck? Why not research the truth, footnote direct quotes, and otherwise prove that your guesses and speculations are true? Some of us might actually read it.
I gave this two stars because I only found about two dozen typos, and considering the length of this often-boring and extremely questionable book, that's kind of remarkable. In reality, I'm grossly disappointed that Mick has sunk low enough after the Saturday Night Live debacle to allow this book to be published.
I bought this book because I thought it might be interesting. Truth is, it might be interesting to some people who want to read a trashy work of fiction inspired by heresay about a real person. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll is a pretty good formula for book sales. The problem with this book is that it relates a lot of tawdry tales about a supposedly bisexual Jagger hopping into bed with so many people that it would be a wonder if the man could walk let alone perform on stage after his many sex sessions. Above and beyond that, most of what is recalled here really can't be substantiated through multiple or even reputable sources. When you strip away the glitz of Jagger's persona what remains is a boring book that isn't remotely compelling and not particularly well written. I had a very difficult time reading this book because it was boring. Since Jagger's life has been played out publicly for 5 decades, I expected this book to be a legitimate biography based on documented fact since there is plenty of material out there. Problem is this is a jumble of junk. I'm mad that I spent money on this book, but in this case I have no one to blame except myself.
Honestly, I don't know what the hell was true. The women rolled in and out as if on a conveyor belt. The men, almost, too. The writing quality of this thing is absolute trash. Keith Richards, with a little help, wrote a real humdinger, full of insight, great stories, context, frank admissions, music and the rock 'n roll life of the man who laid down the blueprint for thousands to follow. This thing here is a catalog of crud. If it's all true, get a real writer to put it in readable semblance. Mick Jagger is a brilliant artist, one of the greatest songsmiths, recording artists and performers in the history of, at least, recorded music. What value, exactly, are we getting out of this mess?
My reviews normally run to about 500 words or so. This one is a lot shorter. The reason is that I have neither the time nor the inclination to write that much about this book.
Suffice it to say that "Mick" is bad--really, really bad. I've never read even a single sentence in "The National Enquirer," so I can't really say for sure, but I imagine that tabloid rag would be much the same as this book. "Mick" is a seemingly endless chronology of Mick Jagger's sexual exploits, real or imagined, and that's about it. If you're looking for a thoughtful biography of the Rolling Stones' singer/songwriter, insights or anecdotes about the band during its 50-year history or indeed much of anything outside of Jagger's bedroom, you'll have to look elsewhere.
I'm glad I got "Mick" from a library. If I had bought it, I wouldn't be able to decide whether to return it or burn it.
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This book mostly contains bits and pieces of what's been written before - in other books, magazines and the internet. It is hard to tell what is true and what is just rumor and conjecture. It feels like an extended Wikipedia article filtered through the National Enquirer.
What really drags to book down in the second half is that it simply repeats the cycle of Jagger's story -- Mick takes up with some woman, cheats on her like crazy, fights with the Stones, the band gets back together, Mick takes up with some new woman and the money keeps rolling in. In a nutshell, that is the entire couple of hundred pages. No real personal realizations - just contradictions. The story never seems to have a point or ending - just more repeating cycles of excess. Perhaps this truly is the entire life story of Mick Jagger, but if so, there isn't much to be drawn from it all.