I’m a HUGE James fan. Seeing them live and being front and centre and interacting with Tim is one of the best concert experiences of my life. James is an integral part of the soundtrack of my life. Which means I REALLY wanted to love this book. But sadly, I just could not.
It’s not a bad book, not at all. It’s just that it isn’t good. It rides the well-worn trope of the over-sexed, over-drugged, under-moral-ed rock star. It’s a story we’ve all seen, read, or heard a hundred times before. And the sad news is that I just could not get to care for the lead character. Seth comes across as a spoiled brat with no concern for anything or anyone but his own selfish and immediate base needs. I expected a redemption story arc, but even after the climax, Seth is still just as big as ass as he was at the beginning. Basically, if Seth wasn’t as great singer, he’d be just another boorish and talentless yob on the dole with no redeeming features not battling addiction but enjoying every minute of it. The supporting cast is paper-thin and one-dimensional, and I cannot even remember Seth’s girlfriend’s name.
The writing is well crafted, is a cracking read in some places, and contains some interesting stylistic choices by Tim, which gave the book a bit of body, but all in all, it is largely forgettable thanks to its lack of story arc and underwhelming and unlikable lead character.
Tim Booth certainly has some writing chops, and if he can craft more developed characters and get me to care about them, then I’ll be the first in line to buy the next book. But this one sadly fell short of the mark for me.