C. M. Kushins

While reading "Beast: John Bonham and the Rise of Led Zeppelin" by C.M. Kushins, I was astonished to recognize large parts of the book lifted directly from previously published books by rock journalist Chris Welch and by John Bonham’s late brother Mick. Isn’t that called plagiarism? Worse yet, the content from Mick’s book is presented in a manner which misleads the reader to believe Mick was speaking to the author. Very deceptive and unethical. As a reader, decide for yourself whether you want to read a flashy new book that woo-hoo has a forward written by Dave Grohl, or decide if you would rather read and support the books of the authors that C.M. Kushins stole from. It seems authors like Kushins are marketing to a new audience and don’t realize there are readers out there who have read everything there is on Zeppelin over the years and will recognize when existing books are “borrowed” from.… (mere)

For fans of Warren Zevon, this is the book most of us have been waiting for. It's not definitive by any means, but it is well researched and gives a thorough, balanced glimpse into Warren's professional and personal lives. I say "lives" (plural) because within the context of, both, his life as a musician and as a man, he lived many.

We are given an overview of his unconventional upbringing, his life as a piano prodigy under the tutelage of Igor Stravinsky, and his break into the business as a musical director for the Everly Brothers. From there, it's a leap into a solo career that wavers between the wide-eyed excitement of being rock's new wunderkind and the inevitable headlong dive into alcohol and drugs.

As Warren's commercial success falters after a pair of brilliant albums, so does his own life. It is only when he seems to take his sobriety as a life or death proposition - in 1986 - when he finds the opportunity for what is deemed his 'comeback' with the star-studded album "Sentimental Hygiene" featuring his backing band, 3/4 of Athens' legends REM. While the comeback is shortlived, if even really ever a comeback, his sobriety isn't, and he becomes a truly different man. WIth his Wild Age behind him, he seeks the elusive Quiet, Normal Life.

Kushins then takes us through a succession of struggling relationships (with women and his two kids), record label transitions (everyone had faith in Warren's talent, it seemed, but not his ability to sell records), and inspired collaborations (Carl Hiaasen, Mitch Albom, Hunter Thompson, etc). Then, the tragic yet inspiring final chapter of Warren's life, when he is diagnosed with inoperable cancer and fights to make one final artistic statement while mending his relationship with his family and struggling with alcohol one final time before "going to see God sober".

The book is well-researched and well-written. I found myself eager to find out how certain chapters in Warren's life unfolded, and Kushins does a fine job of letting you see Warren, warts and all. For those who may not care who played drums on "The Envoy", I always say you can skim over those nerdy details. It matters to some readers, and I'm glad it's there. I am always particularly interested in how famous artists get along with one another, and while it's no surprise that Jackson Browne and Don Henley are consistently referenced here, it was intriguing to hear about Tom Waits being a Zevon fan, John Belushi's presence in those early days, REM's challenges with the Hindu Love Gods project, and the presence of Bruce Springsteen in Warren's life.

This book is not without its flaws. One simple but glaring oversight was the lead-up to Warren's first ever Grammy nominations for his farewell album, "The Wind". We learn all about the nominations, the star-studded Grammy performance with friends Emmylou Harris, Jorge Calderon and others, and yet no mention is made that Warren posthumously won two Grammys that night. And, at the very end of the audiobook, there is a passage that mentions how drugs took down such heroes of Warren's as "Jim Morrison and Jim Belushi". Whether this is a typo or a misread, I don't know, but I'm pretty sure John Belushi was the name we were to read. And for the audiobook, the narrator (who does a marvelous job of reading the book, especially when embodying Warren's resonant baritone) a couple of names are surprisingly mispronounced, mainly Eagles founder Glenn Frey (it's Fry like french fry, not Fray like frayed knot), but dozens of times we hear "Fray", and I wonder how someone along the editorial chain didn't catch that). It's not a huge deal, but as a fan of 70's rock, it's a bit maddening to hear. That said, the narrator for the book is well up to the task, Glenn Fray/Frey/Fry or not. I wouldn't let these details keep one from reading or listening to the book, but I felt compelled to call these occurrences out.

Zevon was a very superstitious man. He believed in luck, and hoped against hope that nothing was actual bad luck, though in reading this book, one could surmise that he got dealt a lot of bad hands. Some were at his own doing, others were simply the perils of show biz, a dysfunctional family, or the fear of seeing a doctor at a time in his life that it might've made a crucial difference. Regardless, Warren ultimately felt he was lucky, because he got to live two full lives - a reckless rock star and a sober dad/model citizen. This book shows us both of these lives, and perhaps a few others that wove their way into the tapestry of a man who only hopes we'll keep him in our hearts now that he's gone. This book goes a long way toward ensuring that.… (mere)

Being a life of important musician Warren Zevon, one of rock's greatest rakehells as well one of the end of the last century's greatest singer-songwriters in an era which produced a lot of good ones. This story is interesting on a personal as well as a musical level, both in Zevon's wild years and the long stretch of his middle age when he achieved a tenuous sobriety and became slightly less prone to alienate friends, family, and colleagues. The book is very well written; it will be longish for non-fans, but I didn't notice any extended sections which weren't fairly important, and, in point of fact, I thought the treatment of his creative renaissance in his final years around the turn of the century was treated somewhat perfunctorially.… (mere)