From Publishers Weekly
Christgau's columns and reviews at the Village Voice and elsewhere over the last three decades helped create the casually knowing, aggressively personal style of an entire generation of professional rock critics. This volume collects columns and reviews of gigs and records from about 1972 to 1997 (with some early work beefed up or revised). Christgau's idiosyncratic, often information-rich essays range from prerock pop (Nat King Cole) to classic rock (Hendrix), funk (George Clinton), punk (the Clash), postpunk (Switzerland's LiLiPUT), postpostpunk (the Mekons), Afrobeat (Mzwakhe Mbuli) and chart superstars (Garth Brooks). More so than his friend and peer Greil Marcus, Christgau can be relentlessly glib, maddeningly gossipy, far too focused on what other critics have said or addicted to lit-crit-lite: "Freebird" is "a perfect example of technopastoral counterculture transcendence." (The introduction shows Christgau at his self-celebrating worst: "From early on I saw pop as class warfare.") What he says about Patti Smith is as true of his own work: it "recalls a time when rock and roll was so conducive to mythic fantasies that pretensions were cutting into its artistic potential." But his phrasemaking efforts can pay off: the New York Dolls?Christgau's all-time favorite band?"refused to pay their dues, so we had to pay instead." At his best, he's showing off while having fun, while telling readers what he thinks about the work he likes?the first job of all critics. These essays provide so much raw information, and show so much listening-in-action, that readers and fans should?sometimes? forgive both the academese and the inside baseball.
Copyright 1998 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Kirkus Reviews
Village Voice rock critic Christgau finally achieves life between hardcovers (although the paperback original collections of his justly famous Consumer Guide columns have long been in print) with this wildly variegated assortment of profiles. A book that skips directly from Elvis to Janis is clearly not intended to be a history of rock 'n roll, and Christgau makes no effort to pretend otherwise. Rather, the collection is a book of his enthusiasms, a cornucopia that allows him to include such odd-artists-out as the women's rock band L7 and the blackface yodeler Emmett Miller. Christgau's idiosyncratic selection omits a lot of key figures, and some of the volumes inclusionsjazz sax player James Carter, country poseur Garth Brooksare dispensable. Christgau is rightly revered for his wide-ranging taste and astonishing ability to make totally wacked-out connections. Who else would link Chuck Berry to post-punk lesbians Sleater-Kinney and make it work? Of course, the downside to that particular habit, which runs throughout Christgau's oeuvre, not just this volume, is that when the connection is less apparent, the reference becomes alarmingly private, not to say downright abstruse. For a guy who claims to eschew musicological analysis, he is disarmingly adept at tossing in just the right detail to make a point; hes one of the only Voice arts regulars who doesn't seem intoxicated by the brilliance of his own prose style. As a result, this is a highly entertaining book to dip into at random. On the other hand, reading it in extended doses is like gorging on fudge. All of Christgau's considerable strengths and weaknesses are on display. --
Copyright ©1998, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.