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Jack Frusciante Has Left the Band A Love Story with Rock 'n' Roll Enrico Brizzi Stash Luczkiw Books

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Jack Frusciante Has Left the Band A Love Story with Rock 'n' Roll Enrico Brizzi Stash Luczkiw Books

This book is so exceedingly annoying, I had a difficult time finishing it. Part of the problem is that it reeks of overhyped Gen-Xism, from jacket flaps cramming in multiple comparisons to The Catcher in the Rye, to a meaningless blurb from Pagan Kennedy invoking "stage-diving into a mosh pit," and blurbs from European reviews telling me how "exciting," "authentic," and "ironic" the book is. The rest of the problem is that the writing is not that great, written in a sort of self-aware stream of consciousness style, it resembles nothing so much as the diary of a self-absorbed teenager. Unfortunately this teenager isn't very interesting despite his desire to be an outsider. He's a composite rebel, what with his crop top, mixing The Clash, The Smiths, and The Cure on his internal soundtrack and skipping school to drink and hang out with friends. My, how rebellious! There are a few interesting angles to him, such as his biking and his chaste love affair, but they are not enough to redeem the book. The translation is terribly off-putting, placing all kinds of US slang in the mouths of Italian teenagers and mixing it with other slang which is somewhat puzzling, such as "rot-Aryans" which shows up a lot. Like Benjamin Lebert's novel Crazy (from Germany), if it had been written by an American and set in the U.S., it wouldn't rate a moments' attention.


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Jack Frusciante Has Left the Band A Love Story with Rock 'n' Roll Enrico Brizzi Stash Luczkiw Books Reviews

The first reason I bought this book is because the title refered to the guitarist that left my favorite band (Red Hot Chili Peppers). Me not being the reader type, immediataly became enraptured with the story. I'd hate to tell you how the book made me feel, because so many emotions spilled out of me reading this extraordinary peice of literature. And I'm sure other people will feel other emotions, but in its entirety, it is too unique for two people to get the same feeling of the book. I highly recommend it, just as I would recommend "Blood Sugar Sex Magik", the final album John Frusciante did with the Peppers. Alas, the book is completely musical within itself.
I read this book in italian after a friend of mine told me it was "beauuuuuutiful"... And I found it just too BAD. It's about preppy people who are trying to act like Trainspotting's protagonists. And they can't do it. I really hated that book. It is the most boring book I've ever read, and keep in mind I'm a teenager myself; but I don't find anything "mine" in the world of "Jack Frusciante e' uscito dal gruppo", everyone is so fake or wrong... And I'm fascinated by the number of people who thinks it is a really good book. Read Irvine Welsh, it's much more better and it expresses the anger and the pain of living in today's world in a more realistic way. Much more realistic. I just don't like to read the problems of a teenager who thinks he's the centre of the world and thinks he has serious problem when they are just stupid. )
Perhaps it is simply because I myself am a teenager, but I found this book to be one of the few "youth oriented" books that truly revealed the very thoughts that I myself have had. It seems as though Brizzi has taken the very emotions that teenagers today feel and put them into words that almost completely accurately describe them. That in itself is a miracle, because it is something I have been trying endlessly (and failing) to do without a feeling of being censored or misunderstood. I believe that any teen who is in touch with their emotions and truly enjoys good reading should read this book. It was fascinating, true-to-life, and captured the necessity that teens have to put music and poetry into all that they do and say. It presents the life of the modern teenager without over-romanticizing it, a mistake that far too many authors for today's youth make. This is a beautiful book and I greatly appreciated the poetry of it all.
Maybe it is because I'm already 22 and have outgrown a lot of the teen angst which Alex embodies in this book, but I found a lot of this book really painful to read, simply because it explained out a lot of the emotional cues rather than describing them, and favored MTVesque rock references over real description of events. What Mr. Brizzi has tapped into is our generation's identification with pop-culture as a way of legitimizing our emotions, but the passing references to a whole battery of punk songs do no justice either to the punk culture which they purport to represent or to the emotions which he is attempting to describe. I found this book to be much like the kind of journal entries which every teenager ends up writing at some point, tortured with the pain of the world and such and self-involved to the point of boring all outside observers. Now I have had relationships like the one in the book, and I have had similar feelings and experiences, but I couldn't help but only feel pity that the narrator felt the need to tell us all about them. Furthermore, not to continue to rag on this book, which does have a few good parts and inexplicably seems to be a bestseller in Italy, I really hate all of the overt references to Catcher in the Rye and other seminal works which depict similar emotions; this book has nowhere near the depth of Catcher, and where Salinger subtly describes a feeling, Brizzi tells you all about it to the point where you no longer want to hear any more. And so, since I have paid over for your journals of adolescent angst, Mr. Brizzi and have spent the past three days wallowing in this half-described so-called-rock'n'roll relationship, I can only recommend that others stick to their own "I am in love but why doesn't she love me" teenage feelings rather than read yours.
This book is so exceedingly annoying, I had a difficult time finishing it. Part of the problem is that it reeks of overhyped Gen-Xism, from jacket flaps cramming in multiple comparisons to The Catcher in the Rye, to a meaningless blurb from Pagan Kennedy invoking "stage-diving into a mosh pit," and blurbs from European reviews telling me how "exciting," "authentic," and "ironic" the book is. The rest of the problem is that the writing is not that great, written in a sort of self-aware stream of consciousness style, it resembles nothing so much as the diary of a self-absorbed teenager. Unfortunately this teenager isn't very interesting despite his desire to be an outsider. He's a composite rebel, what with his crop top, mixing The Clash, The Smiths, and The Cure on his internal soundtrack and skipping school to drink and hang out with friends. My, how rebellious! There are a few interesting angles to him, such as his biking and his chaste love affair, but they are not enough to redeem the book. The translation is terribly off-putting, placing all kinds of US slang in the mouths of Italian teenagers and mixing it with other slang which is somewhat puzzling, such as "rot-Aryans" which shows up a lot. Like Benjamin Lebert's novel Crazy (from Germany), if it had been written by an American and set in the U.S., it wouldn't rate a moments' attention.