Not to sound too much like Vanessa Huxtable, but this was "interesting" mainly for its historical perspective on the "new sound" of rock-and-roll, even though rock-and-roll had been around for over a decade by the time of this compilation. I did not realize this at first, but this is a Scholastic publication aimed at the youth, which now explains some of the tone and diction choices sprinkled throughout. There is one apparently famous (infamous) extended exploration of Phil Spector toward the end (by the other Tom Wolfe), which did seem at the time rather more antagonistic than it needed to be, especially considering this collection is intended to give helpful information - but I suppose the kids of the day were supposed to be antagonistic toward the millionaire youth instead of recognizing his unique contributions to music (whether you like them or not).
Maybe because this was written by a bunch of grown-ups for youth in the 1960s, back when kids didn't know anything since they were kids and adults were the best because they were adults, but this doesn't have a whole lot of helpful/meaningful/deep content. It would be one thing to be a light frothy gossip book, but it's also a light frothy gossip book that talks down to its audience most of the time, and a light frothy gossip book that talks down to its audience most of the time by Scholastic no less, supposedly a bastion for intelligent works for the children.
I don't want to sound like it's all bad - it does have a few interesting "in the moment" perspectives on the "new California sound" of Jan and Dean and the ... Beachboys? (The Beach Boys, as I'm fairly certain they're usually called, despite this coming out in 1966 at the apex of their Golden Age, get only about three scattered mentions in various article things, never a serious - or as serious as this compilation gets - treatment or chapter all their own, which is particularly puzzling, especially since their "uncoolness" supposedly did not begin until the year after.)
There is one glaring aspect we can't really ignore, and we should also keep in mind this is a product of its time, and that is the frequent mention of the ... "brown sound"! This is the "sound" of Chuck Berry, Fats Domino, and Motown. Boy, those '60s must have been everything people say they were, by golly. At least one article (sadly, an abbreviated treatment of a longer work that would be worth tracking down) by Jeremy Larner discusses the hypocrisy (though he doesn't use that word) of the music business of the day, starting off by telling us how Nat King Cole was once beat up during the middle of a concert by the White Citizens Council in good ol' Birmingham, Alabama in order to protect the good white folks from the Devil's destruction by means of the "brown sound." Nat King Cole. Let that sink in for a moment. Mr. Larner then goes on to tell us about how a lot of white singers sold a bunch of records by basically stealing them from black artists (now, to be fair, the Beach Boys did effectively lift Chuck Berry's "Sweet Little Sixteen" and turn it into "Surfin' USA," but they did give Berry credit ... after pressure, yes).
One other essay stood out positively, an engaging "Defense of Bob Dylan" by Henrietta Yurchenko. This stood out mainly because it was the most well-written and least tendentious in tone (slightly above Jeremy Larner's, even). In the afterglow of Mr. Dylan's Nobel prize, hearing about the contention in the mid-'60s about whether Bob Dylan fans are able to enjoy Pete Seeger and vice versa was very intriguing. Ms. Yurchenko offers a balancing act, in that the world of quality folk music can contain both Seeger and Dylan (no doubt a position taken for granted today).
The short mostly frosting "discussion" on the Beatles by future villain Arnold Arnofsky was nothing special, like most of this collection. It ends with a bizarre recollection by, of all people, James A. Michener, the man himself, and how he was once asked to spend a weekend of his life judging dozens of wannabe rock stars in a pre-American Idol talent contest. It was a fairly enjoyable recollection of what he learned and experienced as a complete novice in the world of rock-and-roll (surprising no one, I'm sure), but I suspect I found in enjoyable because of who it was and my history with him and his works - so you probably wouldn't like it as much.
If you can track this down (I stumbled upon it Providentially in an Outer Banks thrift store) by some preternatural means, go for it ... but only if you are a '60s music buff to a more-than-advanced degree.