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A review by annamickreads
I'm with the Band: Confessions of a Groupie by Pamela Des Barres
3.0
First, and I say this for maximum reader enjoyment: skip Dave Navarro's intro. Just skip it. If you're reading this book for the salacious nature of the contents, go ahead I guess, but then I think you'd probably have a very different experience rather than reading it for what it is: Pamela, arguably one of the most, if not THE most famous groupies in American rock 'n roll history, boldly reflecting upon her teen diary entries as she single-mindedly pursued her intense passion for musicians. There aren't many people who would turn their diaries into bestsellers, so for that, you have to give her the respect she's owed.
What makes this memoir so remarkable is not the rockstars found within its pages (if anything, it was very humanizing for someone who did not grow up during the 60s and 70s to learn that the people put on pedestals of that era were in fact mere mortals) but rather, that Pamela to a degree knew that she was being used and was having WAY too much damn fun to care. It's refreshing to see someone wholeheartedly embrace their sexuality, especially in a time where more and more every day women are shamed for, god forbid, enjoying themselves.
Another point of interest: Pamela's personality was so sweet and enthusiastic that even the girls who were jealous of her or her rivals for the attentions of people like Mick Jagger were, at times, her best and closest friends. There wasn't anyone Pam COULDNT charm, and she found comfort and safety in the other groups of women she associated with, which is important, because the culture of toxic masculinity in the rockstars of decades ago still persists in some of the rockstars of today (just ask any teen who attended Warped Tour).
Because the writing is largely Ms. Des Barres' memories spliced with her girlish journal entries, I wouldn't say this memoir is any great work of prose by any means, and after a while, that can get a little exhausting. There are times where she pokes fun at her teen self, definitely self aware, but if you aren't as equally obsessed with The Beatles or whoever her flavor of the week is, it can get a bit tedious.
I think for me where this fell flat is that there's no big revelation. Most of the men depicted in this work used every ounce of fame they had to their advantage, bragging in their own memoirs about sordid, sweaty affairs with hot (and frequently underage!!!) women like that made their music any better. As the reader, you want teen Pamela to wake up one day and realize that while being in proximity to fame is fun for a time, it's even more interesting to pull back the curtain and ask why "groupies" are mocked while we should be pointing the spotlight at the men who made that culture in the first place primarily to serve themselves.
What makes this memoir so remarkable is not the rockstars found within its pages (if anything, it was very humanizing for someone who did not grow up during the 60s and 70s to learn that the people put on pedestals of that era were in fact mere mortals) but rather, that Pamela to a degree knew that she was being used and was having WAY too much damn fun to care. It's refreshing to see someone wholeheartedly embrace their sexuality, especially in a time where more and more every day women are shamed for, god forbid, enjoying themselves.
Another point of interest: Pamela's personality was so sweet and enthusiastic that even the girls who were jealous of her or her rivals for the attentions of people like Mick Jagger were, at times, her best and closest friends. There wasn't anyone Pam COULDNT charm, and she found comfort and safety in the other groups of women she associated with, which is important, because the culture of toxic masculinity in the rockstars of decades ago still persists in some of the rockstars of today (just ask any teen who attended Warped Tour).
Because the writing is largely Ms. Des Barres' memories spliced with her girlish journal entries, I wouldn't say this memoir is any great work of prose by any means, and after a while, that can get a little exhausting. There are times where she pokes fun at her teen self, definitely self aware, but if you aren't as equally obsessed with The Beatles or whoever her flavor of the week is, it can get a bit tedious.
I think for me where this fell flat is that there's no big revelation. Most of the men depicted in this work used every ounce of fame they had to their advantage, bragging in their own memoirs about sordid, sweaty affairs with hot (and frequently underage!!!) women like that made their music any better. As the reader, you want teen Pamela to wake up one day and realize that while being in proximity to fame is fun for a time, it's even more interesting to pull back the curtain and ask why "groupies" are mocked while we should be pointing the spotlight at the men who made that culture in the first place primarily to serve themselves.