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neri_minu's review against another edition
4.0
The book is almost like a netflix doc, never read a concept like that, though super easy to read. Taylor Jenkins Reid does really a remarkable job of describing the charactets to the most intricate of details which just tempts you to try to google some of them. Easy and fun read :)
luhlir's review against another edition
5.0
Okay so this book is slow but as an audiobook? I was obsessed with listening to this. The story was so well written I had to remind myself that this wasn’t real. The characters were complex, the emotions were complex, and the ending was exactly what I wanted it to be (wasn’t shocking but was satisfying) I don’t know maybe that’s the point bc daisy jones was captivating and so was listening to this. I really wish I could have actually listened to the albums they made and that’s why I gave it 5 stars because I was so invested in this which means the book is doing it’s job
lauren_stewart's review against another edition
challenging
emotional
reflective
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
I've read this book before, but it truly comes alive when you listen to the audio. Everycast member nailed their character, there was so much emotion in each performance! If you haven't read the book yet you should totally start with the audiobook!
andrea_doletzky's review against another edition
4.0
Fantastic book. I absolutely loved the way it was written and it left me wishing the story would never end.
squid_vicious's review against another edition
4.0
Thoughts about the tv series at the end! No spoilers, I swear!
I resisted this book. Hard. Because it felt gimmicky to me, mostly. A gimmick that I sort of knew I would be an absolute sucker for. I love music, rock and roll history and documentaries about it and it’s many almost mythical figures. And I can’t remember how many oral history of various musical scenes I have devoured gluttonously. So I really felt that books like this one are pandering to people like me, who delight in spending hours listening to people talk ad nauseum about how wild it was in the 60s and the 70s, when the sex, drugs and rock and roll lifestyle was the most glamourous thing people could have imagined. I resisted the book because I have heard that story a million times: bands that have an amazing chemistry, the incredible highs and how that all turns to terrible lows when the lightening in a bottle fizzles. I also resisted because it was so hyped up, and I have this old knee-jerk reaction to reject popular stuff.
Obviously, I caved. I think it was the upcoming tv series that broke me: I was curious to watch it (this is Elvis’ actual grand-daughter, literal rock and roll royalty!) and as usual, I want to read the book before watching the adaptation so I can bitch and moan about it from an informed perspective. And then I went ahead and did what an awful lot of people did and kinda, sorta fell in love/exasperation with Daisy. I’m sure it helped that I read Pamela Des Barres’ memoirs a few times, that I was brought up by a classic rock nerd and that all the music mentioned in this book is stuff I grew up listening to (and still listen to!). I caught all the references, knew of all the places the band played; it reminded me of the first time I watched “Across the Universe” and spent the whole movie squeaking with glee every time I spotted a rock history Easter Egg.
Reading (and watching) “Daisy Jones and the Six” felt a lot like that: I felt like a pointer dog, looking for references, beyond the obvious Fleetwood Mac core inspiration (I did listen to “The Chain” about 5,000 times while reading this book: I had forgotten how much I love that stupid song!). I also felt a bit like a chump for absolutely falling for the bait Reid had laid out for me: I liked this book a lot more than I expected. Because of course I would love a story about the process of writing the kind of mythical rock records that loosens up something at the back of your throat and makes you want to crank the volume up and cry as you listen to it: that feeling is absolutely a drug. And of course I would love a story about how fucking complicated it actually is to write music with someone you hate to love – I suppose I am a sucker for angst. And of course I would love fucked up characters who are trying so hard to be good and who are all too aware of their own shortcomings. Damn you, Taylor Jenkins Reid, you got me in the end!
So in case you missed it, this book is essentially the transcript of a rockumentary about the legendary band Daisy Jones and the Six, who were catapulted to fame and glory in the golden age of rock and roll. They were living the dream until their “unexpected” split, when Jones left the band for motives that have not been revealed to the public, until this documentary is made. We follow the Dunne Brothers, the embryonic version of the famous band, founded by Billy and Graham Dunne in their hometown of Pittsburg; their relocation to California, addition of new members and their eventual sort-of rivalry and eventual collaboration with Sunset Strip it-girl Daisy Jones. Daisy is a very talented and utterly spoiled girl, who has a complicated relationship with herself: she knows some things came to her too easy, damaging her in the process, and that she wants to be more than what people assume she is. But she doesn’t really know how to verbalize this or how to go about it, so she makes a lot of stupid mistakes. She constantly butts heads with Billy because while they are very different, they reflect aspects of each other that unsettle them deeply. Billy’s struggle with sobriety infuriates Daisy, who doesn’t bother counting the pills and lines, and his loving and stable marriage are a display of the safety and stability she has never known. And alternately, Daisy’s effortless talent and freewheeling attitude drives hard-working and creatively controlling Billy up the wall, because he wishes he could just sneeze a song out the way Daisy seems to be able to. Yes, there is sexual tension there, but their push and pull is more complicated than that, and it comes to a head very differently from what I had expected.
I mention having read Pamela Des Barres’s “I’m With the Band”, and clearly, Reid has read it too – and I love that she took away from that memoir that Daisy had to be more than a muse, more than arm candy, more than someone’s girl: she had to be her own self. She made Daisy stand up for herself the way I had wanted Pamela to do while I read her book. Not that Des Barres was a doormat, far from, but there were times when she let things happen to her, and Daisy doesn’t. And Karen, oh my god, Karen!! Her self-awareness, uncompromising vision for herself and struggles with her instinct to live the life she wants and her desire to spare the man she cares for was inspiring and heart-breaking. I remember an interview with Stevie Nicks where she said she never had children because she didn’t want to be a half-ass mother and a half-ass rock star, and that she made the decision to just be a rock star, and while Karen is not very Stevie-like in any other way, that lucidity about making choices that will define your life was fully embodied in her character. And while she remains on the side-lines for a large part of the book, Camila really stuck with me, too: her strength is totally different from Daisy's or Karen's, but her devotion and caring for the people she loves was very moving. I think it's easy to think her passive, but it wouldn't be an accurate description: her choices give her a strength other people need to keep going. No wonder Billy wrote her such gorgeous songs.
Does this book reinvent anything? Nope. Is this a great book? Probably not. Is it fun as fuck for rock nerds? Hell yeah! I had fun with it, though I am not sure I would read Reid’s other books: not unlike the fabled album “Aurora”, I think this one is a bit of a fluke that happened to poke at things that are very special to me, but my hat is off to her for capturing complex band dynamics, playing skillfully with multiple POVs and creating female characters that are so strong and determined to live on their own terms and place them in a setting where this was always a monumental challenge.
--
About the tv series and its soundtrack:
I love how much love and care was put into this, and that the songs on the show and soundtrack are actually performed by Riley Keough and Sam Claflin, and as mentioned previously, I was very curious to see if Keough inherited her grandfather’s showmanship. It is, admittedly, a genius marketing move to release the soundtrack under the artist name “Daisy Jones and the Six”. But of course, it isn’t exactly how it’s described in the book: the cover photo, while gorgeous, is its own thing, and Reid’s lyrics were often changed and new songs made up. That’s fine: after all, this is a fictional attempt at capturing the almost miraculous creative act of putting together an era-defining record, this was never going to be perfect. But fuck me, did they try really, really hard! The soundtrack is vibrant and fun and I really enjoyed it, a few of the songs got stuck in my head rather seriously (“Look At Us Now (Honeycomb)”, obviously, but “Let Me Down Easy” and “The River” as well!). That said, I was also losing my mind at the vintage music gems they peppered through the show: the opening is “Dancing Barefoot” by Patti Smith, so obviously, I was immediately on board, but the Byrds, CCR, Carole King, Jefferson Airplane and other delightful blasts form the past (Strawberry Alarm Clock, oh my god!) kept me swaying my shoulders happily through the whole thing.
Visually speaking, I think they nailed it: the sets and costumes are stunningly gorgeous, Sam Claflin has the bone structure to make that stupid haircut look good, he’s got the front man energy going on and Riley Keough is a stunning embodiment of Daisy. I am not old enough to know if the look is authentic to the times, but it’s beautiful to look at (and made me miss my old Penny Lane-style coat like crazy – I actually just bought a new one). The format – talking heads being interviewed twenty years later intercut with “flashback” sequences – is well done, and I really enjoyed that the longer narrative sequence allowed the story to be expanded: in the book, you get one or a few short monologues about an event and the reader fills in the blank, but this way, you see each event unfolding, which is really great.
Of course, the story is really about Daisy and Billy, so the other characters, especially Eddie and Warren, kind of fade in the background, but that’s how bands work: all eyes are on the people who perform at the front of the stage; it’s also the way it was in the book. I do appreciate that Karen’s position, as deeply caring for Graham but knowing what people will say and think if their relationship is made public, is well developed on the screen. This is a very real problem for women musicians who want to be known for their talent, and not as someone’s partner – especially in a world that still assumes a lot of women get ahead by sleeping with the right people. And I simply adore Camila, who doesn’t hesitate to call Billy on his bullshit while being unwaveringly loyal.
While it differs from the books in some (in my opinion) minor respects, and some elements were wrapped a little too neatly for my taste, I really enjoyed that you can feel how much of a labor of love this show is. The band learned to play together, so the musical performances feel wonderfully authentic, the complexity of the characters’ experiences is very well executed and their lighting photographer needs an award of some kind because each frame could be an album cover. I also really appreciate the way it captures a lot of the reality of being in a band: when Eddie and Warren light up after being told they did a good job, that’s every rhythm section ever to get compliments (they get overlooked so often that it is very exciting for them!); Karen’s experience of being the girl in a band with dudes who act like dudes in band is spot on… I could go on, but I pointed at the TV, shouting “that’s a real thing!” so many times over the 10 episodes, it was turning into a joke.
Three things that especially made me smile: 1) how cleverly they illustrated how a song can mean different things at different times with “Look at Us Now”, 2) how Daisy shut down the reporter who asks her about her clothes during a press conference and asks him why he wants to talk about that instead of the music and 3) Eddie’s shock and awe when he discovers punk rock – a genre that is never mentioned in the book but that exploded exactly when the story is set. As an eternal punk rocker at heart, it made me very happy to see even a fictional depiction of a musician discovering it as it happens. I was really hoping that he would end up in a punk band of his own!
Basically, if you want to nerd out about classic rock, even if this is a story as eternal as rock and roll itself and therefore, occasionally predictable but often surprising, the show is a feast for the ears and eyes.
I resisted this book. Hard. Because it felt gimmicky to me, mostly. A gimmick that I sort of knew I would be an absolute sucker for. I love music, rock and roll history and documentaries about it and it’s many almost mythical figures. And I can’t remember how many oral history of various musical scenes I have devoured gluttonously. So I really felt that books like this one are pandering to people like me, who delight in spending hours listening to people talk ad nauseum about how wild it was in the 60s and the 70s, when the sex, drugs and rock and roll lifestyle was the most glamourous thing people could have imagined. I resisted the book because I have heard that story a million times: bands that have an amazing chemistry, the incredible highs and how that all turns to terrible lows when the lightening in a bottle fizzles. I also resisted because it was so hyped up, and I have this old knee-jerk reaction to reject popular stuff.
Obviously, I caved. I think it was the upcoming tv series that broke me: I was curious to watch it (this is Elvis’ actual grand-daughter, literal rock and roll royalty!) and as usual, I want to read the book before watching the adaptation so I can bitch and moan about it from an informed perspective. And then I went ahead and did what an awful lot of people did and kinda, sorta fell in love/exasperation with Daisy. I’m sure it helped that I read Pamela Des Barres’ memoirs a few times, that I was brought up by a classic rock nerd and that all the music mentioned in this book is stuff I grew up listening to (and still listen to!). I caught all the references, knew of all the places the band played; it reminded me of the first time I watched “Across the Universe” and spent the whole movie squeaking with glee every time I spotted a rock history Easter Egg.
Reading (and watching) “Daisy Jones and the Six” felt a lot like that: I felt like a pointer dog, looking for references, beyond the obvious Fleetwood Mac core inspiration (I did listen to “The Chain” about 5,000 times while reading this book: I had forgotten how much I love that stupid song!). I also felt a bit like a chump for absolutely falling for the bait Reid had laid out for me: I liked this book a lot more than I expected. Because of course I would love a story about the process of writing the kind of mythical rock records that loosens up something at the back of your throat and makes you want to crank the volume up and cry as you listen to it: that feeling is absolutely a drug. And of course I would love a story about how fucking complicated it actually is to write music with someone you hate to love – I suppose I am a sucker for angst. And of course I would love fucked up characters who are trying so hard to be good and who are all too aware of their own shortcomings. Damn you, Taylor Jenkins Reid, you got me in the end!
So in case you missed it, this book is essentially the transcript of a rockumentary about the legendary band Daisy Jones and the Six, who were catapulted to fame and glory in the golden age of rock and roll. They were living the dream until their “unexpected” split, when Jones left the band for motives that have not been revealed to the public, until this documentary is made. We follow the Dunne Brothers, the embryonic version of the famous band, founded by Billy and Graham Dunne in their hometown of Pittsburg; their relocation to California, addition of new members and their eventual sort-of rivalry and eventual collaboration with Sunset Strip it-girl Daisy Jones. Daisy is a very talented and utterly spoiled girl, who has a complicated relationship with herself: she knows some things came to her too easy, damaging her in the process, and that she wants to be more than what people assume she is. But she doesn’t really know how to verbalize this or how to go about it, so she makes a lot of stupid mistakes. She constantly butts heads with Billy because while they are very different, they reflect aspects of each other that unsettle them deeply. Billy’s struggle with sobriety infuriates Daisy, who doesn’t bother counting the pills and lines, and his loving and stable marriage are a display of the safety and stability she has never known. And alternately, Daisy’s effortless talent and freewheeling attitude drives hard-working and creatively controlling Billy up the wall, because he wishes he could just sneeze a song out the way Daisy seems to be able to. Yes, there is sexual tension there, but their push and pull is more complicated than that, and it comes to a head very differently from what I had expected.
I mention having read Pamela Des Barres’s “I’m With the Band”, and clearly, Reid has read it too – and I love that she took away from that memoir that Daisy had to be more than a muse, more than arm candy, more than someone’s girl: she had to be her own self. She made Daisy stand up for herself the way I had wanted Pamela to do while I read her book. Not that Des Barres was a doormat, far from, but there were times when she let things happen to her, and Daisy doesn’t. And Karen, oh my god, Karen!! Her self-awareness, uncompromising vision for herself and struggles with her instinct to live the life she wants and her desire to spare the man she cares for was inspiring and heart-breaking. I remember an interview with Stevie Nicks where she said she never had children because she didn’t want to be a half-ass mother and a half-ass rock star, and that she made the decision to just be a rock star, and while Karen is not very Stevie-like in any other way, that lucidity about making choices that will define your life was fully embodied in her character. And while she remains on the side-lines for a large part of the book, Camila really stuck with me, too: her strength is totally different from Daisy's or Karen's, but her devotion and caring for the people she loves was very moving. I think it's easy to think her passive, but it wouldn't be an accurate description: her choices give her a strength other people need to keep going. No wonder Billy wrote her such gorgeous songs.
Does this book reinvent anything? Nope. Is this a great book? Probably not. Is it fun as fuck for rock nerds? Hell yeah! I had fun with it, though I am not sure I would read Reid’s other books: not unlike the fabled album “Aurora”, I think this one is a bit of a fluke that happened to poke at things that are very special to me, but my hat is off to her for capturing complex band dynamics, playing skillfully with multiple POVs and creating female characters that are so strong and determined to live on their own terms and place them in a setting where this was always a monumental challenge.
--
About the tv series and its soundtrack:
I love how much love and care was put into this, and that the songs on the show and soundtrack are actually performed by Riley Keough and Sam Claflin, and as mentioned previously, I was very curious to see if Keough inherited her grandfather’s showmanship. It is, admittedly, a genius marketing move to release the soundtrack under the artist name “Daisy Jones and the Six”. But of course, it isn’t exactly how it’s described in the book: the cover photo, while gorgeous, is its own thing, and Reid’s lyrics were often changed and new songs made up. That’s fine: after all, this is a fictional attempt at capturing the almost miraculous creative act of putting together an era-defining record, this was never going to be perfect. But fuck me, did they try really, really hard! The soundtrack is vibrant and fun and I really enjoyed it, a few of the songs got stuck in my head rather seriously (“Look At Us Now (Honeycomb)”, obviously, but “Let Me Down Easy” and “The River” as well!). That said, I was also losing my mind at the vintage music gems they peppered through the show: the opening is “Dancing Barefoot” by Patti Smith, so obviously, I was immediately on board, but the Byrds, CCR, Carole King, Jefferson Airplane and other delightful blasts form the past (Strawberry Alarm Clock, oh my god!) kept me swaying my shoulders happily through the whole thing.
Visually speaking, I think they nailed it: the sets and costumes are stunningly gorgeous, Sam Claflin has the bone structure to make that stupid haircut look good, he’s got the front man energy going on and Riley Keough is a stunning embodiment of Daisy. I am not old enough to know if the look is authentic to the times, but it’s beautiful to look at (and made me miss my old Penny Lane-style coat like crazy – I actually just bought a new one). The format – talking heads being interviewed twenty years later intercut with “flashback” sequences – is well done, and I really enjoyed that the longer narrative sequence allowed the story to be expanded: in the book, you get one or a few short monologues about an event and the reader fills in the blank, but this way, you see each event unfolding, which is really great.
Of course, the story is really about Daisy and Billy, so the other characters, especially Eddie and Warren, kind of fade in the background, but that’s how bands work: all eyes are on the people who perform at the front of the stage; it’s also the way it was in the book. I do appreciate that Karen’s position, as deeply caring for Graham but knowing what people will say and think if their relationship is made public, is well developed on the screen. This is a very real problem for women musicians who want to be known for their talent, and not as someone’s partner – especially in a world that still assumes a lot of women get ahead by sleeping with the right people. And I simply adore Camila, who doesn’t hesitate to call Billy on his bullshit while being unwaveringly loyal.
While it differs from the books in some (in my opinion) minor respects, and some elements were wrapped a little too neatly for my taste, I really enjoyed that you can feel how much of a labor of love this show is. The band learned to play together, so the musical performances feel wonderfully authentic, the complexity of the characters’ experiences is very well executed and their lighting photographer needs an award of some kind because each frame could be an album cover. I also really appreciate the way it captures a lot of the reality of being in a band: when Eddie and Warren light up after being told they did a good job, that’s every rhythm section ever to get compliments (they get overlooked so often that it is very exciting for them!); Karen’s experience of being the girl in a band with dudes who act like dudes in band is spot on… I could go on, but I pointed at the TV, shouting “that’s a real thing!” so many times over the 10 episodes, it was turning into a joke.
Three things that especially made me smile: 1) how cleverly they illustrated how a song can mean different things at different times with “Look at Us Now”, 2) how Daisy shut down the reporter who asks her about her clothes during a press conference and asks him why he wants to talk about that instead of the music and 3) Eddie’s shock and awe when he discovers punk rock – a genre that is never mentioned in the book but that exploded exactly when the story is set. As an eternal punk rocker at heart, it made me very happy to see even a fictional depiction of a musician discovering it as it happens. I was really hoping that he would end up in a punk band of his own!
Basically, if you want to nerd out about classic rock, even if this is a story as eternal as rock and roll itself and therefore, occasionally predictable but often surprising, the show is a feast for the ears and eyes.
eucandcitescgen's review against another edition
5.0
ma asteptam la multe lucruri de la cartea asta da nu ma asteptam sa cry my eyes out ce dracu
"the skies cleared
and you appeared
and I said, "here is my aurora" "
I'm gonna end myself
"the skies cleared
and you appeared
and I said, "here is my aurora" "
I'm gonna end myself
dougschoemer's review against another edition
3.0
You can almost hear the voice of that Behind the Music guy (even though this is framed as an oral history). If you love the film Almost Famous, and also love A Star Is Born (especially the 2018 version) you will likely love this book. It's a very quick, entertaining read, though not very deep and breaking little new ground, but I plowed through it.
ceceallen13's review against another edition
3.0
I really enjoyed this read and the unique narrative style, it was my first oral history read. I do think it was a bit of a slow read, only because of how it’s a look into all these people’s lives, meaning you are reading a lot of slow moments and a lot of fast paced moments. It definitely picked up toward the end, too. The characters were believable and felt completely whole. I think the show kind of ruined that view of them, though!