A review by adammck
You Don't Know Me but You Don't Like Me: Phish, Insane Clown Posse, and My Misadventures with Two of Music's Most Maligned Tribes, by Nathan Rabin
2.0
Disappointing. Rabin falters in the footsteps of many writers who have come before him to try to learn about strange tribes only, lo and behold, to learn a few things about themselves in the meantime.
[a:John Jeremiah Sullivan|22899|John Jeremiah Sullivan|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/authors/1321052260p2/22899.jpg]'s "Upon This Rock" exists in a similar space, although it's a mere feature story focusing on Christian rock festivals. I thought it was more insightful and entertaining than our current subject - but I never really thought "This needs to be a book!" And it's not a book. "You Don't Know Me," however, IS a book.
How to bump that page count? To tell the backstory of Insane Clown Posse for the benefit of anyone without Wikipedia access, Rabin goes into book report mode on Violent J's amazing-sounding memoir [b:Behind the Paint|2111140|Behind the Paint|Violent J|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1250923226s/2111140.jpg|2116545]. He lapses into blow-by-blow show reviews that feel like 80-year-old newspaper clippings in the Age of Twitter and aren't necessary to the story (no offense, Tom Green and The Iron Sheik). He describes Violent J's Nixonian tendencies, then, only several pages later, describes Violent J's Nixonian tendencies.
The good stuff: when Rabin tells the stories of his fellow travelers and charts his own shifting relationships with the two bands. No need to be a fan of either band to enjoy this stuff.
Profound discoveries by adventure's end? Well... how many ICP shows does one have to attend to arrive at the monumental conclusion that many Juggalos are just latchkey kids in need of family and a pleasant escape? That this need for acceptance + community + GOOD TIMES is something that links fans of Slayer and Bieber and Phish and ICP?
Apparently a lot of shows.
Mostly, though, the page count is inflated not by difficult questions (to what extent does a tough upbringing excuse boorish behavior? to what extent can a male critic overlook or even romanticize misogynistic BS at festivals as long as he's accompanied by an intellectual and independent woman who seems unaffected by it? how far should these pop-up Hamsterdams be able to push the envelope while enjoying unspoken cooperation from law enforcement?) but by Rabin focusing on Rabin, leading to a lot of overwrought passages about light and darkness and so forth. This is a pop culture writer - and a quite good one - who's ALREADY written a memoir. He's candid about his reasons for changing his approach from fly-on-wall to me-me-me. In my opinion, it was a mistake.
Final question: is the atrocious cover art - seemingly custom-made for the Bargain Books rack at Barnes & Noble - a clever statement on the danger of judging books (or fanbases) by outside appearances?
[a:John Jeremiah Sullivan|22899|John Jeremiah Sullivan|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/authors/1321052260p2/22899.jpg]'s "Upon This Rock" exists in a similar space, although it's a mere feature story focusing on Christian rock festivals. I thought it was more insightful and entertaining than our current subject - but I never really thought "This needs to be a book!" And it's not a book. "You Don't Know Me," however, IS a book.
How to bump that page count? To tell the backstory of Insane Clown Posse for the benefit of anyone without Wikipedia access, Rabin goes into book report mode on Violent J's amazing-sounding memoir [b:Behind the Paint|2111140|Behind the Paint|Violent J|http://d202m5krfqbpi5.cloudfront.net/books/1250923226s/2111140.jpg|2116545]. He lapses into blow-by-blow show reviews that feel like 80-year-old newspaper clippings in the Age of Twitter and aren't necessary to the story (no offense, Tom Green and The Iron Sheik). He describes Violent J's Nixonian tendencies, then, only several pages later, describes Violent J's Nixonian tendencies.
The good stuff: when Rabin tells the stories of his fellow travelers and charts his own shifting relationships with the two bands. No need to be a fan of either band to enjoy this stuff.
Profound discoveries by adventure's end? Well... how many ICP shows does one have to attend to arrive at the monumental conclusion that many Juggalos are just latchkey kids in need of family and a pleasant escape? That this need for acceptance + community + GOOD TIMES is something that links fans of Slayer and Bieber and Phish and ICP?
Apparently a lot of shows.
Mostly, though, the page count is inflated not by difficult questions (to what extent does a tough upbringing excuse boorish behavior? to what extent can a male critic overlook or even romanticize misogynistic BS at festivals as long as he's accompanied by an intellectual and independent woman who seems unaffected by it? how far should these pop-up Hamsterdams be able to push the envelope while enjoying unspoken cooperation from law enforcement?) but by Rabin focusing on Rabin, leading to a lot of overwrought passages about light and darkness and so forth. This is a pop culture writer - and a quite good one - who's ALREADY written a memoir. He's candid about his reasons for changing his approach from fly-on-wall to me-me-me. In my opinion, it was a mistake.
Final question: is the atrocious cover art - seemingly custom-made for the Bargain Books rack at Barnes & Noble - a clever statement on the danger of judging books (or fanbases) by outside appearances?