Poseur: A Memoir of Downtown New York City in the '90s

by Marc Spitz

Marc Spitz assumed that if he lived like his literary and rock ’n’ roll heroes, he would become a great artist, too. He conveniently overlooked the fact that many of them died young, broke, and miserable. In his candid, wistful, touching, and hilarious memoir, Poseur, the music journalist, playwright, author, and blogger recounts his misspent years as a suburban kid searching for authenticity, dangerous fun, and druggy, downtown glory: first during New York’s last era of risk and edge, the pre-gentrification ’90s, and finally as a flamboyant and notorious rock writer, partying and posing during the music industry’s heady, decadent last gasp.

Part profane, confidential tell-all and part sweetly frank coming-of-age tale, this dirty, witty memoir finds Spitz careening through the scene, meeting and sometimes clashing with cultural icons like Courtney Love, Jeff Buckley, Rivers Cuomo of Weezer, Chloë Sevigny, Kim Deal, The Dandy Warhols, Guns N’ Roses, Ryan Adams, Paul Rudd, Coldplay, Pavement, Peter Dinklage, Julie Bowen, The Strokes, Trent Reznor, Chuck Klosterman, Interpol, and Franz Ferdinand, as well as meeting heroes like Allen Ginsberg, Shirley Clarke, Joe Strummer, and Morrissey. Along the way he finds literary guru Gordon Lish is a long-lost relative, and erstwhile pal and sensation JT LeRoy is an even bigger poseur.

Spitz refuses to give up the romantic ghost until a post–9/11 breakdown and an improbable new love (fellow music writer Lizzy Goodman) finally help him strike the hardest pose of all: his true self.

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, Memoir, New York, Biography, Biography Memoir

368 pages, Paperback

First published February 12, 2013

About the author

Marc Spitz was a former senior writer at Spin magazine. His work has also appeared in The New York Times, Maxim, Blender, Rolling Stone, Vanity Fair, Nylon and the New York Post. Spitz is the co-author (with Brendan Mullen) of the 2001 LA punk oral history We Got The Neutron Bomb: The Untold Story of L.A. Punk. He has authored two novels, How Soon is Never (2003) and Too Much, Too Late (2006), as well as Nobody Likes You: Inside the Turbulent Life, Times, and Music of Green Day. His biography of David Bowie, entitled God and Man was released in the Fall of 2009.

Several of his plays, including Retail Sluts (1998), The Rise And Fall of the Farewell Drugs (1998), ...Worry, Baby (1999), I Wanna Be Adored (1999), Shyness is Nice (2001), Gravity Always Wins (2003), The Name of This Play is Talking Heads (2005), and Your Face Is A Mess (2007) have been produced in New York City. 'His holiday short "Marshmallow World" was produced at The Brick Theatre in Brooklyn in December of 2007. Shyness is Nice was revived by the Alliance Repertory Theatre company in Los Angeles in 2003, and The Name of this Play is Talking Heads was produced in the summer of 2006 on Nantucket. A new play, 4, a one-act comedy will be produced in the spring of 2009.

Spitz has spoken at Columbia University (on playwrighting) and DePaul University (on journalism), and appeared as a "talking head" on MTV, VH1, MSNBC.

Reviews

[Eric · Rating 1 out of 5]

Asshole might have been a more apt title but I suppose Poseur is close enough. One might forgive his self-serving humility and shallowness if he were not such an awful writer.

[Chella Negro · Rating 4 out of 5]

Is Marc Spitz a name-dropper?
sure.
Is Marc Spitz a great writer?
maybe.
Were there typos all over this book?
yes.
Is Marc Spitz a terrible person?
...I guess. Maybe. Probably.
Sure.

Did I enjoy the shit out of this book?
You bet I did.
If you like rock music, a little gossip, and new York city, you should read this book.

[Michele · Rating 1 out of 5]

I could spew vitriol, but it's not worth the time. Blecch. Could have been so much more, but the extremely bad editing--extremely, extremely bad editing--really suicide-bombed this whole thing. I won't be donating this to the library I work in (as I had planned) because it would be an embarrassment to have it in the collection. I will spare our patrons.

[Elwood D Pennypacker · Rating 2 out of 5]

The subtitle is misleading. It's not a memoir of downtown New York City in the 90's. It's a memoir of a drug addicted writer in the 80's, 90's and '00's and most of it takes place in New York.

But that isn't the biggest snafu. With more typos than I've ever seen in an officially published copy of a book, I can only assume there was a goof, and a rough edition slipped through to the printing plant. Because there is no way this could have been the final proofread copy. Spelling, grammar, missing words, missing sentences...

Also there is some unchecked sloppiness. Minor example: Spitz misremembers the F line as being the train at 7th Ave and Flatbush in Brooklyn. Never. It was the D train back then. That's OK.
Major example: Spitz recalls Courtney Love saying that Winona Ryder was more enraptured with the Strokes than with any band since the Replacements. Then he explains the appeal of the Strokes and cites two songs...but the songs he mentions are Replacements songs. He had a brain confuzzlement. It happens. But he didn't see it later? The editor didn't catch that? Not OK. And if it was meant to be an interwoven mixing of the Strokes and Replacements, then it was sloppily written.

But apart from that, when taking this memoir for what it is, it's not that bad. He has moments of being the very writer he whines about wanting to be. In fact it happens frequently. As a tale of drug abuse with only some minor repentance, it's stark and reminiscent of his literary and rock n roll idols. As a tale of girlfriends and flings, it's not AS good but he keeps his laments to a minimum. Spitz is thankfully old enough now to look back at his self-pity parties over women with some mature perspective.

As a rock n roll scenester story, it's middling. He was there, he says he loves the music, but the music seems superfluous. A soundtrack to his drug use and writing efforts and romantic affairs. It's not a music book, which is how this was sold to me. He's not a music guy as much as he thinks he is. He's a guy who wants to be a writer but happens to really like music (sounds personally familiar) so he'll make some money from that while scoring some smack (not so personally familiar).

The music angle gains some legs by the end. It's a nice nostalgia turn for the period of nostalgia in the early 2000's. His encounter with LCD Soundsystem's "Losing My Edge" is the absolute best part of the book.

Jesus the Strokes liked to do a lot of coke.

Ryan Adams. Jesus.

As someone who has himself lost his edge, I get this book. As someone with musical predilections and mercurial attitudes (and non-musical ones as well), I get it. As someone who struggles to not view everything through the narcissistic prism of "I" (mixed with the struggle to not deem oneself the ultimate arbiter of everything and expound with academic remove from the mountain on high), I sort of don't get it. But I used to get it. I just wish it wasn't so sloppy.

[Jeff Buddle · Rating 2 out of 5]

Let's begin this review with a Bukowski quote that Marc Spitz has probably read because he devotes several pages to his appreciation of the L.A.-based writer:

"Style is the answer to everything. / A fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous thing / To do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without it."

I'm sure Mr. Spitz thinks he has style. He dedicates pages and pages to his affectations: his black nail polish, his feather boas, skinny jeans and yes, even heroin.

Maybe this is what passes for style in Spitz's rock-and-roll fantasies, but his writing doesn't convey an ounce of said style. He has sentences, one after the other, plain unremarkable sentences that add up to unremarkable paragraphs that make up unremarkable chapters. In the end it's a wholly unremarkable book. Too bad. In the hand of a writer with style, it might have been quite good.

In his mind, Mark Spitz is Lester Bangs, he's Nick Tosches, real rockwriters with real style (and brains), but in reality he's a step above a hack, a writer of cliches and half-baked homilies.

Don't bother.

[Jeff · Rating 5 out of 5]

While yes he name-drops a lot at most times I felt it was just part of telling of his story and also he knows the story will have more interest if he says who was on the scene. They were more the people he was around at the time. Not just saying the names to be impressive (Ok maybe a bit)

I found the book to be inspiring a bit, Maybe as a writer myself. I can identify with the feelings, thoughts and fears that plagued him. Though I can't say I have had as much of a glorious time filled with so many adventures. I found his constant slide back into drugs many times a bit annoying and disturbing sort of like a way of telling others who might read it a glorification a bit of doing them as they always lead to some kind of story. I don't think It Is intentional as I believe he is being matter of fact like his heroes. Telling his tale what you take away from it is up to you. I believe it also annoyed me since reading this book I was growing fond and attached to him so each drawback made me full of worry. Obviousuly he survived or there would be no book, but still it distressed me to see him still a slave to smack.

I liked the fact that he was so honest through the good, the bad and the ugly and admits that even when he was successful he still doubted himself and was not confident and at his worst.

[Barry Hammond · Rating 4 out of 5]

A young rock and roll fan, who went from being a wanna-be poet, Bennington College student, unpublished novelist, unsold screenwriter, to playwright, rock critic, DJ, heavy drug user, and finally a real writer, Marc Spitz's memoir runs the gamut. Ostensibly a memoir of downtown New York in the 90's, it's also a memoir of Los Angeles, drug culture, popular music, and a strange coming-of-age story about the difference between rock and roll and a "rock and roll lifestyle."

The story is also about the pursuit of fame and what it's like to be in that coveted but illusory spotlight. Littered with encounters both brief and prolonged of the author's heroes it reads like a counter-culture shopping list. Allen Ginsberg, Ryan Adams, Trent Reznor, Courtney Love, Jeff Buckley, Rivers Cuomo of Weezer, Chloe Sevigny, Kim Deal, Guns N' Roses, Interpol, The Killers, Paul Rudd, Coldplay, Pavement, Peter Dinklage, Julie Bowen, murdered actress/writer/director Adrienne Shelley, Morrissey, Joe Strummer, L.A. punk Guru Brenden Mullen, Shirley Clarke,The Strokes, The Dandy Warhols and Chuck Klosterman all make appearances.

It's by turns informative, harrowing, sad, extremely funny, moving and all-round interesting. Spitz has an eye and ear for the telling detail and a nose for the truth that brings these pages to vivid life. - BH.

[Peter Knox · Rating 3 out of 5]

A writer writing about becoming a writer, drug addict, a New Yorker, and pop culture obsessive, moved by music to finally break through as a playwright, blogger, columnist, feature writer, screenwriter, and author - while coming of age in Long Island, Manhattan/Brooklyn, and LA.

Basically, this was written with me in mind, as someone always interested in frontline subjective reporting on the music, drug, and culture scene - especially if it's in New York and from someone trying to become a writer. Marc drops celebrity names and dishes on his interactions with everyone that he can use on his way to the top.

Essentially a HST self made rock and roll writer deep in the drugs of the 80/90/0's he lives through the dark broke dangerous days of pre-Guliani & Internet NYC. His stories are egocentric, image obsessed, drug addled, culture documenting funny anecdote after another - a memoir worth reading if any of that interests you. Enjoyed a lot.


The Spotify Playlist/Soundtrack to the book should be playing in the background. You'll want to hear it once you start reading this book.

[Beth · Rating 2 out of 5]

Just two years my junior, Spitz is nostalgic for the same NY I am, as opposed to the city of Walcott, Smith, White, or Hell. He didn't hang at the same bars I did—I know because he names every one. I find it hard to believe Spitz never passed the threshold of Downtown Beirut but maybe it closed during that two-year gap. His tale is interesting, although the prose is stronger after the 50% mark (read this on a Kindle). But reader beware: the tale is told by a toad, who seems to revel in his toad-ness. Not sure if he means to elicit sympathy or if he is that oblivious.
My experience might have been more positive if this book wasn't riddled by typos. For example: 1990s free weekly, the NY Press, referred to as the Free Press (later correctly as NY Press); movie and book titles are sometimes italicized, sometimes not; and my favorite, “I road [on the Long Island RR] to and from Manhattan.” Road. I road. Uh huh. BTW: I am available for copyediting. (verb copyedit = one word, despite what MS system spellcheck says.)

[Cassandra McCall · Rating 3 out of 5]

I have read Marc’s other books How Soon is Never and Too Much, Too Late, so when I saw he wrote a memoir I was all over it. Listen up kids, one time there was a magazine in print called Spin and I pretty much had every issue in the 1990s, and Marc was a writer. This book was like revisiting the 90s all over again. The author’s drug use, image of “cool” and his (in his eyes) attainment of same and the struggle of a rock n’ roll lifestyle that involves drug, the music scene and getting older. “Us 90s kids, are all in our 40s now,” struck a little too close to home since I just turned 40, but a great stroll down 90s memory name – not to mention the name dropping, woozaa Julie Bowens. Also, how is are the 90s 20 years ago? Uggh.

[Madeline · Rating 2 out of 5]

You'd think that a person that titled their book "Poseur" would be self aware enough not to be a name dropping, self aggrandizing douche.

[Stella · Rating 2 out of 5]

Self indulgent. Name dropper.
I just feel if you are going to write about being a junkie and hanging out with famous people, I shouldn't fall asleep while reading.

[Andrea · Rating 3 out of 5]

Aptly titled but the author grew on me as the book concluded. Sorry to learn he died last year. The editing was awful, as mentioned in several other reviews.

[Jennifer · Rating 3 out of 5]

I find it interesting how (generally) men's memoirs seem more concerned with the WHAT and women's memoirs more about the WHY.

So, yeah. I picked this up from the library because I had just finished reading Lizzy Goodman's book about the 2000s, so I figured this book would be like the 90s version of that.

It was really just Marc namedropping through the 80s, 90s, and mid 2000s- which I enjoyed for the most part but Julie Bowen really?

Also, talking about how much you love drugs while telling other people to stay off of em is a little hypocritical-plus he seemed disappointed to find out he did not have AIDS?

All of it feels really sad also considering that Marc died last year.

[Craig Spraggon · Rating 3 out of 5]

Well....thats the first time I've enjoyed the first third of a book....then hated the next third .....stopped reading it for 4 months ....then returned to it due to the authors death and after reading Meet Me In The Bathroom ....and thoroughly enjoyed the last section of the book. Boy did it need an edit...I'd recommend reading it until you get bored of the heroin stories ....then skip to about page 290 .

[Laura-Michelle Horgan · Rating 2 out of 5]

I felt like he was telling us everything and nothing at once. And name dropping and more name dropping and MORE name dropping. (If he said “Julie Bowen” one more time, I would have lost it.) The self-deprecation and self-obsession was tiring. Anyway, he got what he wanted all along I guess and he’s dead. It’s impossible to find out how he died, but it’s not hard to guess.

[Jarrett · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.8/5

[Neil White · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Lifestyles Of The Poor & Fame-Adjacent" would be an excellent alternate title for this memoir. That, or "Name-Dropper" perhaps. Marc Spitz is not a likeable person, but fortunately he's as aware of that as anyone, although not necessarily while certain events are transpiring. I mostly enjoyed this memoir, although it went on a tad too long, and there's plenty of "and then I met this famous person and this famous person" parts that could have been trimmed, but for the most part it's not as unbearable as it could have been. Some of his famous friends that I was more aware of were interesting to hear about, like Josh Charles, Peter Dinklage, and others. And I'll never look at Julie Bowen the same way again, that's for sure.

Ultimately what keeps this memoir interesting is less about what Spitz is up to than how he's seeing himself. He begins a self-inflicted journey to the edge of oblivion mostly because that's what rock stars do, in his mind. He buys the clothes to try and make the man, and although he never becomes a rock star, he does hang out with a lot of them, and even though he's very much the Poseur of the title, he likely comes across as a little more real than other rock journalists.

I read this based on a great interview of the author by Marc Maron, which I would recommend. I would recommend this mostly if you're familiar with him, or very interested in his intentional and self-conscious downward spiral into as much sex, drugs and rock and roll as he can find. Don't let the subtitle fool you - while most of this memoir takes place in New York, there's less about the town and its transition from seedy punk rock haven to gentrified rich hipster paradise than I would have liked.

[Alison · Rating 3 out of 5]

If it weren't for the poor editing, I would give this four stars. I was predisposed to like this one, as I grew up an avid SPIN reader and felt like I watched (read?) the author grow in his career, at least that part of it. But there's much more to the memoir than just that period in his life, and I appreciated the stories and perspective.

Like others have said, I found it inspiring of sorts - I've been on a kick of "memoirs by artists and those who strive to be one, often in NYC," and while "Just Kids" by Patti Smith wins the award in this category ten times over, "Poseur" felt like a contemporary version of "Just Kids." Whereas with Patti Smith I just glowed with admiration and longing for a time I never knew, "Poseur" is more in step with my own experience growing up, and so I feel like I perhaps "get" Marc Spitz in places where he may lose other people. Things like the name-dropping, the ego, the drugs, his whole mentality - I may not find it virtuous, but I understand it, and therefore cannot throw hate on it.

However, the biggest killer in this book is the lack of editing. Obvious typos; obvious repeated paragraphs and thoughts within the same page of text; it flowed poorly between events within the same chapter, I could keep going....I stuck with the book because I definitely felt invested in the author's story, but by the end was very annoyed that this barely got a once over before publishing. Actually made me a little depressed about the state of publishing, but that's a story for another day.

[Julie Stout · Rating 5 out of 5]

Such a and nostalgic trek back to the 1990's scene when things were grittier in NYC and LA. Loved the familiar pop culture references from that time period and his experience in LA (where I did a lot of clubbing in the 1990's). Marc feels like family to me. I fantasized about the times I used to hang out with Rodney Bingenheimer (knew him well through my club promoter best friend, Jason Lavitt) at Canters, Cafe Bleu, Rodney's English Disco, lunch at IHOP on Sunset Blvd. one afternoon. It would have been cool to have hung out with Marc and Rodney at the same time and to have been able to discuss all the greatest music going on at the time. Also, thanks to Marc for recognizing the greatness of The Smiths, my all-time and forever favorite group. He is a true kindred spirit!

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

The author is so unlikable--a rebellious teen who never grew up and thinks wearing sunglasses indoors with cigarette in mouth makes him cool--and I'm convinced he only wrote the book so he could brag about his relationships with Julie Bowen and Chloe Sevigny and doing drugs with the Strokes and Ryan Adams. It really gets old when he qualifies every person he seemingly ever met. The book also could have benefited from a good proofreader; some lines are repeated and too many words are misspelled (it's Bret--not Brett--Easton Ellis). But, in the end, I couldn't stop reading (once I got through the dull opening chapter). It's so well written and entertaining, and it ends on a good note.

[G.T. Burns · Rating 3 out of 5]

Cool read

Cool read

a very good writer, at one point a struggling artist. However, personally, he seems to be another middle class kid living off his parent's money for much of the book. Sure, he was hungry a lot in "the struggle," but it is one thing to live frugally from the money given to you than to actually have no support whatever. And to do heroine simply because you are a sucker for idoltry...I can relate to a young man's desire to walk in the footsteps of his heroes, but there is something about this I don't buy. I have too much of a NYC-based, 3-D-like education.

[Elliot Chalom · Rating 4 out of 5]

For a writer used to writing about other subjects, it's remamrkabkle how self-absorbed Spitz is. Nevertheless, slog through the first half of this book and the payoff in the second half is well worth it. I say that as a native New Yorker, Gen X-er and music lover - not sure it would appeal to someone who wasn't all three.

Check out my detailed review over here: http://2bitmonkey.wordpress.com/2013/...

[Lisa]

I stopped short of reading this one. A favorable review piqued my interest, but then, when I saw the tiny print and many pages, I passed. I also recalled that I very much enjoyed the author's biography of David Bowie, save for the gratuitous bits about the author's own life mixed in. I feared "Poseur" may be just an excessive compilation of similar gratuitous bits. Also, I realized I don't care enough about New York in the 1990s to invest time reading this much about it.

[Mandy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Loved learning about his journey to become a writer, but found many of the passages on his drug use to be tedious. Raises interesting questions near the end about what a gluttonous consumer of pop culture should do when he doesn't have an appetite for the new culture coming out anymore.

Most of the fun gossipy stories are captured well at the Awl - http://www.theawl.com/2013/02/the-bes...

[david smith · Rating 4 out of 5]

I Kissed Chloe Sevigny In The 1990's And Let Me Tell You About It.

Also I Saw The Pixies in 1992. Pavement Is A Cool Band. I Worked At Spin. They Played Cornelius Fantasma and Autechre In The Office. I Went On Tour With The Strokes.

I Then Penned A Book That Was About How I Was Intentionally On Heroin During All Of This Because I'm Very Very Edgy.

Did I Mention I Wrote A Novel About The Smiths

[Catherine Dyar · Rating 1 out of 5]

I am crazy for a good drug memoir/coming-of-age book. This one did not fit the bill. It was tedious and poorly written with HORRIBLE editing. I kept waiting for some real self awareness or at least real self deprecation. It never happened. Spitz comes off as a humorless, self-aggrandizing dick who just wants to brag about having gone to Bennington and sleeping with semi-famous women. Ugh.

[Martin Bihl · Rating 2 out of 5]

to read my review, please visit http://the-agency-review.com/poseur

[Jamison Spencer · Rating 3 out of 5]

Good memoir of an artist in 90s New York. Featured all of the celebrities promised on the back, but just barely, and all in tangential anecdotes.

[Francesca Wall · Rating 1 out of 5]

Worst self serving name dropping book ever. Don't bother.