Paperback Reader

I totally stole this idea from Music Critics website because I think it’s awesome: pictures of the reviewer’s own bookshelves obligatorily filled with music books ‘n prose. There have been a few occasions when voyeuristically peeping that I’ve gone “Ooh! I’ve got that one!” typically when it’s a copy of an older edition of something that you have no idea how you acquired it. Example: I used to have a copy of the book Urban Blues that suddenly started to make its way in every single house move since high school. How it got there, I have no idea.
It’s the same thing with Look Out, Whitey! Black Power’s Gon’ Get Your Mama! and Soul On Ice, but 1.) Those aren’t music books and 2.) They sure look cool in my collection. So does Doctor Faustus, but I have no fucking idea what that’s about other than I stole it from the old man along with On Liberty and The Communist Manifesto. That was around the same time I wore a t-shirt that had a picture of Gandhi on it with the caption "Another skinhead for peace."
I was so fucking clever in college...
So let me be honest for a moment and declare that I probably should get around to reading On Liberty or something, but no, if I’m faced with that and, say, Nikki Sixx’s The Heroin Diaries, well sir, I’m going to go with the guy who wrote “Home Sweet Home” every fucking time.
To defend myself, I wouldn’t consider myself as intellectually shallow as Rob in High Fidelity, but I could totally identify with what he was saying in terms of literature. There are moments when I’ll curl up with an obligatory literary classic, but you’ll typically find a Rolling Stone (don’t ask), a Vanity Fair (ditto) and a rock book near the toilet instead of a legitimate novel or book.
I actually should post a pic of my “real” books just to impress you, but I won’t.
You might catch glimpse of an embarrassingly complete catalog of Steven King books that are, I swear to God, all my wife’s.
It started with a hand-me-down copy of Lillian Roxon’s Encyclopedia Of Rock, a comprehensive A to Z style compendium of a (then) relatively young genre. It was released in 1969, but I probably referred back to it countless times for years after, sadly lamenting that there weren’t any updated versions available.
But it was also a great reference for bands at that moment that hinted at enormous potential but failed to go anywhere. I vividly remember dozens of these bands (Autosalvage anyone? How about Mrs. Miller?) but I can’t remember a goddamn thing from high school algebra.
I still refer back to these books, although the internet has taken a bigger role in my investigative quests.
There is, however, no replacing those biographies that put you a little closer to the band/artist’s world or events.
Particularly when they used to be in Motley Crue.