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Mazzy Star’s So Tonight That I Might See
Anthony Gomez III explores how out of the commercial failure of the 1980s Paisley Underground genre, a Los Angeles that suffered one of the highest crime rates in the country, the rise of Chicano/a art in the public eye, and record label disputes, singer Hope Sandoval and guitarist David Roback form the influential dream pop band Mazzy Star.
Mazzy Star's So Tonight That I Might See was a slow, reluctant success. Pushed by Capitol Records as an album for teenagers to make out during, as a record about girlhood, and as music for those uninterested in the era's male aggression, the album's reputation has been plagued by these forced connections ever since.
Not that the band's Hope Sandoval or David Roback ever publicly cared to dispel these notions. They preferred to disdain publicity and offer their art without introduction. But there is far more to the Mazzy Star story than media-reluctant musicians and corporate-generated narratives.
By tracing the hurried development of their second record, this book revisits how imposed mythologies have contributed to the marginalization of Hope Sandoval's Mexican American background, and the band's place in the larger tradition of Chicano music. It combs through the histories of musicians involved in Sandoval and Roback's prior projects to highlight how Mazzy Star formed partly in response to the rising violence and gentrification of their hometown Los Angeles. Along the way, it ascertains the band's interest in the American Southwest, 1960s psychedelia, and a surrealism which conjures the strange, dark shadows of everyday life in the US.
Mazzy Star's So Tonight That I Might See was a slow, reluctant success. Pushed by Capitol Records as an album for teenagers to make out during, as a record about girlhood, and as music for those uninterested in the era's male aggression, the album's reputation has been plagued by these forced connections ever since.
Not that the band's Hope Sandoval or David Roback ever publicly cared to dispel these notions. They preferred to disdain publicity and offer their art without introduction. But there is far more to the Mazzy Star story than media-reluctant musicians and corporate-generated narratives.
By tracing the hurried development of their second record, this book revisits how imposed mythologies have contributed to the marginalization of Hope Sandoval's Mexican American background, and the band's place in the larger tradition of Chicano music. It combs through the histories of musicians involved in Sandoval and Roback's prior projects to highlight how Mazzy Star formed partly in response to the rising violence and gentrification of their hometown Los Angeles. Along the way, it ascertains the band's interest in the American Southwest, 1960s psychedelia, and a surrealism which conjures the strange, dark shadows of everyday life in the US.
- GenresMusic
143 pages, Kindle Edition
Published February 5, 2026
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Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
March 1, 2026
A relief. I approached this after the blurb dreading a strained attempt to situate singer Hope Sandoval within a Chicano continuum, and her partner, the equally reclusive guitarist David Roback, within a surrealism and artsy posture caricaturing their respective backgrounds in opposite L.A neighborhoods, pre-gentrified Eastside, and affluent pre-O.J. Brentwood. I'd aver that the other kids on the UCLA-adjacent Westside might not have found the postwar lad's attempts at amateur psychoanalysis as odd as Gomez might think, as an aside. Anyway, as I'm a longtime fan of the Sixties-ish Rainy Day Paisley Underground LP, Opal, early Rain Parade (needed more on Emergency Third Rail Power Trip phase with both Roback brothers), and halfway between Sandoval and Roback in age, this brought back hazy memories of "my" 80s indie Angeleno scene after punk, as trippy texture thickened. When as Gomez accurately pinpointed, the spirit of not only the (to me hyped) Doors, but fellow Angelenos as Love, fronted by misfit Arthur Lee (see my review of Andrew Hultkrans' Forever Changes in 33 1/3) revived.
Gomez evokes mysterious forces, such as the duo Going Home with Hope and partner Sylvia Gomez, and Kendra Smith in Opal, as well as whomever joined the two leaders of Mazzy Star. Nevertheless, as one who always felt these barely credited stalwarts who backed up the two mainstays got short shrift, I'd wanted more analysis of their musical contributions to the albums. But the songs get, with the exception of Fade Into You and some videos throughout their stint, integrated into a blurry setting. As in an intelligent treatment of the cover of She Hangs Brightly (and as later recordings downplay images), Anthony Gomez tries to describe the allusive delivery and illusory ambience of edgy songs.
As the singer and songwriter don't exude extroversion, Gomez must expand his story. It digresses into the visuals, videos, and vagaries which the educated classes, left-wing and left with little to fill their spare time back then, tended to drift into during this era. Gomez doesn't dramatize the disparity of the upbringings of Roback vs. Sandoval, but he does establish this dichotomy as fundamental. Even as clearly they bonded intimately over their talent in conjuring Sad Girl shadows and cinematic noir, seasoned by smoky vocals in swirling arrangements (an aspect meriting elaboration and which should have been highlighted to the reduction of secondary repetition of Ritchie Valens or aesthetic trends).
Therefore, this entry emphasizes the cultural context. As one who was there as a contemporary and as a native of this often mocked and persistently misunderstood city, I respect Gomez' uneven but necessary attention to nuance. He listens to the tunes with alertness but not without critique; he ranges across territory in the L.A. Basin both extremely familiar and rarely charted, and he tries to stay honest and fair-minded, given neither of his protagonists ever deigned to make a journalist's task easier or even enlightening. It means some padding, the same flaw as in Hultkrans' Love title.
P.S. Good to find the Spanish-language congruent Latine used for gender-neutral rather than the ugly ironically anglicized Latinx usage. May this corrective be adopted by publishers and content creators.
Gomez evokes mysterious forces, such as the duo Going Home with Hope and partner Sylvia Gomez, and Kendra Smith in Opal, as well as whomever joined the two leaders of Mazzy Star. Nevertheless, as one who always felt these barely credited stalwarts who backed up the two mainstays got short shrift, I'd wanted more analysis of their musical contributions to the albums. But the songs get, with the exception of Fade Into You and some videos throughout their stint, integrated into a blurry setting. As in an intelligent treatment of the cover of She Hangs Brightly (and as later recordings downplay images), Anthony Gomez tries to describe the allusive delivery and illusory ambience of edgy songs.
As the singer and songwriter don't exude extroversion, Gomez must expand his story. It digresses into the visuals, videos, and vagaries which the educated classes, left-wing and left with little to fill their spare time back then, tended to drift into during this era. Gomez doesn't dramatize the disparity of the upbringings of Roback vs. Sandoval, but he does establish this dichotomy as fundamental. Even as clearly they bonded intimately over their talent in conjuring Sad Girl shadows and cinematic noir, seasoned by smoky vocals in swirling arrangements (an aspect meriting elaboration and which should have been highlighted to the reduction of secondary repetition of Ritchie Valens or aesthetic trends).
Therefore, this entry emphasizes the cultural context. As one who was there as a contemporary and as a native of this often mocked and persistently misunderstood city, I respect Gomez' uneven but necessary attention to nuance. He listens to the tunes with alertness but not without critique; he ranges across territory in the L.A. Basin both extremely familiar and rarely charted, and he tries to stay honest and fair-minded, given neither of his protagonists ever deigned to make a journalist's task easier or even enlightening. It means some padding, the same flaw as in Hultkrans' Love title.
P.S. Good to find the Spanish-language congruent Latine used for gender-neutral rather than the ugly ironically anglicized Latinx usage. May this corrective be adopted by publishers and content creators.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
I figured I'd give this book a read since I'm enough of a fan of Mazzy Star to be interested and it being short enough not to warrant too much doubt.
This is definitely a dry academic book though. It's mostly looking at Mazzy Star, and Hope Sandoval in particular, in two angles: her shyness and introversion, and her ethnicity. There's some general band history mixed in, and some vaguely related things (seriously, this did not need such a big part on explaining surrealism), but it reads more like an encyclopedia than a real book.
This is definitely a dry academic book though. It's mostly looking at Mazzy Star, and Hope Sandoval in particular, in two angles: her shyness and introversion, and her ethnicity. There's some general band history mixed in, and some vaguely related things (seriously, this did not need such a big part on explaining surrealism), but it reads more like an encyclopedia than a real book.
June 5, 2026
„… sadness is calming. It is the emotion that brings one closer to what one had and what one lost. Sadness is, in short, an excuse to dream again“
March 20, 2026
The author of MAZZY STAR’S SO TONIGHT THAT I MIGHT SEE holds a clear tenderness for the band, particularly singer Hope Sandoval—I was moved by his deep dive into her shyness and need for self expression. Overall, this book was an excellent exploration into this corner of music history—I loved the framing of the album into surrealism and Latinx culture, and I also enjoyed learning about the other bands who intersected with Mazzy Star and all intersections between them. I enjoyed “Fade Into You,” and I loved the excuse to dive into the rest of the album (and found tracks I like even more).
My one quibble is with the writing style—there were frequent fragments for emphasis, something that seems popular with many writers but is a particular tic that irks me. But the content kept this an interesting and worthwhile read for me.
My one quibble is with the writing style—there were frequent fragments for emphasis, something that seems popular with many writers but is a particular tic that irks me. But the content kept this an interesting and worthwhile read for me.
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
Big thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of the Anthony Gomez III’s thoughtful and reflective entry into the 33 1/3 series: Mazzy Star’s So Tonight That I Might See, an analytic look into an overlooked 90s classic. I was very excited to find this title in the series since So Tonight That I Might See is one of those formative albums that traveled with me through high school, college and beyond. I relistened to the album and the other Mazzy Star albums while reading this, and just hearing those chords strummed with a tambourine backing and Hope Sandoval’s reverb twinged voice languidly singing these lyrics of love and loss ushered in a rush of emotions. I didn’t learn about Mazzy Star until “Fade Into You” became a big hit. This was before the internet was readily available, and I was reliant on radio and friends with older siblings to learn about music. Furthermore, I mostly listened to hip-hop and metal, but by the time this song hit the airwaves, my tastes were changing. As Gomez III explains in the book, Mazzy Star’s sound “is out of place and out of time.” I couldn’t agree more with this idea that their music feels “old and new at once” and is similarly haunting, which makes it all the more relevant that Mazzy Star could appear in movies like Batman Forever as well as more arthouse fare like Stealing Beauty. In fact, Gomez documents the appearances of “Fade Into You” in popular culture, and I was shocked to see how this song has been used over time and in such disparate settings (The O.C.?). Nevertheless, this is a testament to the song’s and the band’s enduring character and appealing to the “strange, unsettling, and beautiful world of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks” as Gomez III explains. I thought that this reference is also fitting since it relates to Mazzy Star’s kind of uncanny music, where it is strangely familiar, yet also so different and idiosyncratic for its time. When bands were getting louder and guitars more distorted, as labels sought to cash in on grunge and the 90s emergence of punk, Mazzy Star went softer, quieter, and retreated to the desert or the late 60s area outside of the valley, finding kinship with some of the lesser celebrated sounds and voices like The Doors and Love. Gomez III uses these bands as frames of reference for Mazzy Star, highlighting not only the fact that they were LA bands emerging from tumultuous times and using pop-like sounds in much darker, menacing ways.
Since both Sandoval and Roback didn’t give many interviews during Mazzy Star’s existence, Gomez III turns to Mazzy Star’s influences and forebearers to provide some insight into the environment, scene and conditions that influenced Mazzy Star’s formation and sound. I enjoyed this aspect- I hadn’t really thought about how Mazzy Star sounded like The Doors or even Love, despite covering an Arthur Lee song, but it makes sense, and Gomez III’s research provides some useful insight into the influence of the Mexican-American sounds of East LA that maybe aren’t as apparent in Mazzy Stars sound, but influenced some other popular bands from the 90s and Sandoval’s own musical tastes. I also appreciated Gomez III’s assertion of how Mazzy Star’s music influenced female indie rockers, who he terms Sad Girls, like Michelle Zauner of Japanese Breakfast, Karen O of The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Mitski. It is interesting to think about this influence in not just the lyrical content, but I think their music is so much different from Mazzy Star’s. If anything, I feel like the music matches up more with bands like the Cowboy Junkies or Acetone, whose kind of hushed sounds (and use of shakers) are more aligned with Mazzy Star. I also hear strands of their desert music in Hermano Gutiérrez and Tommy Guerror’s excellent Los Days, that feature acoustic-strummed rhythm guitars with slide-type leads. Nevertheless, Gomez III presents a nice framework to show how Mazzy Star were influenced by the LA scene that was less heard (or maybe unheard music like the band X). Gomez III suggests that the downtrodden and undersides of LA, kind of like Lynch’s Mulholland Drive or Blue Velvet, hold a darker side that runs counter to the shine and sheen of the more popular and present images. This is where the sound of Mazzy Star emerged, and it’s that desire to maintain that voice, to stay true and not do lots of promotions or try to create another “Fade Into You” that led to the band getting dropped by their label (only to release another album nearly 17 years after their last release).
In addition to framing the band through both their influences and who they later influenced, Gomez III gives some background about how Roback and Sandoval got into music and eventually met through their separate bands Opal (Roback) and Going Home (Sandoval). I didn’t know much about the Paisley Underground, the psychedelic revival in the 80s that birthed Rain Parade, another Roback band, but it was interesting to learn more about this movement and how bands both hated it yet needed some kind of movement or genre to get some attention from record companies looking for the next new thing. It was fascinating to learn that Susana Hoffs lived with Roback, who apparently got jealous of her early success with the Bangles. However, I really enjoyed learning more about how there was this kind of underground network of bands who were trying to eke out their own sounds that weren’t as astringent as the hair metal or as hard and fast as the punk rock and hardcore emerging from Southern California at this time. Opal played with bands like Sonic Youth and the Minutemen, which seems both odd and fascinating. Although Gomez III doesn’t go into some of the typical details that are sometimes involved in these 33 1/3 books, like focusing on the equipment that was used or the inspiration for the lyrics, he does present a detailed analysis of the LA scene, musically, socially, and economically from which Mazzy Star’s two biggest contributors emerged. It’s also a great book that highlights how this album and this band was just so different from much of the other music that was on the radio at the time. He also suggests that because the band had such a unique and out-of-time sound that this is one of the reasons why the band’s sound has endured and remains even though it no longer exists. I really enjoyed this book, and although it doesn’t provide the kind of song-by-song analysis or reconstruction of the recording sessions, it does present an interesting assessment of some of the factors, especially the unheard music of LA, that influenced this band. If anything, I really enjoyed breaking out this album to listen to it again and feel all the hope and heartbreak that it evokes. “I think it’s strange you never knew.” Highly recommended!
Since both Sandoval and Roback didn’t give many interviews during Mazzy Star’s existence, Gomez III turns to Mazzy Star’s influences and forebearers to provide some insight into the environment, scene and conditions that influenced Mazzy Star’s formation and sound. I enjoyed this aspect- I hadn’t really thought about how Mazzy Star sounded like The Doors or even Love, despite covering an Arthur Lee song, but it makes sense, and Gomez III’s research provides some useful insight into the influence of the Mexican-American sounds of East LA that maybe aren’t as apparent in Mazzy Stars sound, but influenced some other popular bands from the 90s and Sandoval’s own musical tastes. I also appreciated Gomez III’s assertion of how Mazzy Star’s music influenced female indie rockers, who he terms Sad Girls, like Michelle Zauner of Japanese Breakfast, Karen O of The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Mitski. It is interesting to think about this influence in not just the lyrical content, but I think their music is so much different from Mazzy Star’s. If anything, I feel like the music matches up more with bands like the Cowboy Junkies or Acetone, whose kind of hushed sounds (and use of shakers) are more aligned with Mazzy Star. I also hear strands of their desert music in Hermano Gutiérrez and Tommy Guerror’s excellent Los Days, that feature acoustic-strummed rhythm guitars with slide-type leads. Nevertheless, Gomez III presents a nice framework to show how Mazzy Star were influenced by the LA scene that was less heard (or maybe unheard music like the band X). Gomez III suggests that the downtrodden and undersides of LA, kind of like Lynch’s Mulholland Drive or Blue Velvet, hold a darker side that runs counter to the shine and sheen of the more popular and present images. This is where the sound of Mazzy Star emerged, and it’s that desire to maintain that voice, to stay true and not do lots of promotions or try to create another “Fade Into You” that led to the band getting dropped by their label (only to release another album nearly 17 years after their last release).
In addition to framing the band through both their influences and who they later influenced, Gomez III gives some background about how Roback and Sandoval got into music and eventually met through their separate bands Opal (Roback) and Going Home (Sandoval). I didn’t know much about the Paisley Underground, the psychedelic revival in the 80s that birthed Rain Parade, another Roback band, but it was interesting to learn more about this movement and how bands both hated it yet needed some kind of movement or genre to get some attention from record companies looking for the next new thing. It was fascinating to learn that Susana Hoffs lived with Roback, who apparently got jealous of her early success with the Bangles. However, I really enjoyed learning more about how there was this kind of underground network of bands who were trying to eke out their own sounds that weren’t as astringent as the hair metal or as hard and fast as the punk rock and hardcore emerging from Southern California at this time. Opal played with bands like Sonic Youth and the Minutemen, which seems both odd and fascinating. Although Gomez III doesn’t go into some of the typical details that are sometimes involved in these 33 1/3 books, like focusing on the equipment that was used or the inspiration for the lyrics, he does present a detailed analysis of the LA scene, musically, socially, and economically from which Mazzy Star’s two biggest contributors emerged. It’s also a great book that highlights how this album and this band was just so different from much of the other music that was on the radio at the time. He also suggests that because the band had such a unique and out-of-time sound that this is one of the reasons why the band’s sound has endured and remains even though it no longer exists. I really enjoyed this book, and although it doesn’t provide the kind of song-by-song analysis or reconstruction of the recording sessions, it does present an interesting assessment of some of the factors, especially the unheard music of LA, that influenced this band. If anything, I really enjoyed breaking out this album to listen to it again and feel all the hope and heartbreak that it evokes. “I think it’s strange you never knew.” Highly recommended!
Review of advance copy received from Netgalley
My thanks to NetGalley and Bloomsbury Academic for an advance copy of this look at one of albums of the nineties that still resonates not only with fans, but with casual music listeners, with songs that touch parts of the mind and the soul, generating feelings thought lost, forgotten or just ignored.
My parents had long given up on setting a bedtime for me. School nights, I would stay up late, either reading or enjoying the illegal cable that my father had acquired so long ago. This is where I assume I first heard and saw the band Mazzy Star, and the song that made them, for better for worse. I am sure it was 120 Minutes that broadcast the video, playing a song that filled me with emotions and a longing for all the things I wanted to be. Romantic, mysterious, deep, sad, and yet a good person, hopefully getting better. None of this happened for me, and I guess the same is true for others, hence the popularity of a song that is to go-to for deep emotions in movies and television, even thirty years later. On an album that Martha Stewart recommends to be played for dinner parties. The band treated press interviews as burdens, sharing little, keeping the enigma of the band even up until today. This book tries to pierce the veil, telling of the band, its key members, and the album that for all intents made them, and probably ruined them. Mazzy Star’s So Tonight That I Might See, by Anthony Gomez III is part of the 33 1/3 series looking at key albums and their creation, this time focusing on a band who hated the limelight, hated attention, but understand the longing of being alone, creating their own art, and not being role models.
The series generally focuses on the creation of an album, with some information on the band's history. With a band like Mazzy Star this is difficult, for to quote a show I am sure the band was a fan of, Questions are a burden to others, and answers are a prison for oneself. Though a band, the two main players were Hope Sandoval, singer songwriter and David Roback. Both are not people who liked to share. Interviews were yes and no, with a lot of ambiguity. The book looks at the two growing up, Hope surrounded by a Chicano movement, complete with music and the ideas of surrealism, Dave with a love of classic rock and a drive to find something, with a bit of wanderlust. Both found co-conspirators, in Dave's case it was Susanna Hoffs from the Bangles, whose later success drove Dave to try harder in music. Both came together in a band that was falling apart, and both changed that band to create their own art. As corporate pressure was put on them to make more, tour more, make more money, both pulled away. Letting their work do their speaking, something they were loathe to do.
This is more a biography of the two leads. There is little mention of the other members of the band, and little about their time in the studio. Usually these books will be loaded with instruments and studio tricks, inspiration for various songs, but this one is more about the scene, the ideas and the introvert aspect of both characters. As people who didn't share much, I am sure there was not much abut recording to report on. There is a lot about the Paisley Underground scene the two started in. Chicano rights, and how that might have affected Hope. And a little about Dave, his wandering and finally his passing. I did not know much about the band, and found this all very interesting and new. I didn't even know they had an album out in the last ten years.
A book for fans, but one they might know already. As I said I enjoyed this, but I can see where readers of the series might be a bit annoyed. However I can see how hard this book was to write. How can one write on a band that let the music talk for them, music that can mean so much to people, in different ways. It was nice to read about a band that didn't go into the fame game, that just wanted to play, and maybe excise a demon or two. I do know I have been listening to my old CD's, and have rediscovered much that I missed. And for that I thank the writer.
My parents had long given up on setting a bedtime for me. School nights, I would stay up late, either reading or enjoying the illegal cable that my father had acquired so long ago. This is where I assume I first heard and saw the band Mazzy Star, and the song that made them, for better for worse. I am sure it was 120 Minutes that broadcast the video, playing a song that filled me with emotions and a longing for all the things I wanted to be. Romantic, mysterious, deep, sad, and yet a good person, hopefully getting better. None of this happened for me, and I guess the same is true for others, hence the popularity of a song that is to go-to for deep emotions in movies and television, even thirty years later. On an album that Martha Stewart recommends to be played for dinner parties. The band treated press interviews as burdens, sharing little, keeping the enigma of the band even up until today. This book tries to pierce the veil, telling of the band, its key members, and the album that for all intents made them, and probably ruined them. Mazzy Star’s So Tonight That I Might See, by Anthony Gomez III is part of the 33 1/3 series looking at key albums and their creation, this time focusing on a band who hated the limelight, hated attention, but understand the longing of being alone, creating their own art, and not being role models.
The series generally focuses on the creation of an album, with some information on the band's history. With a band like Mazzy Star this is difficult, for to quote a show I am sure the band was a fan of, Questions are a burden to others, and answers are a prison for oneself. Though a band, the two main players were Hope Sandoval, singer songwriter and David Roback. Both are not people who liked to share. Interviews were yes and no, with a lot of ambiguity. The book looks at the two growing up, Hope surrounded by a Chicano movement, complete with music and the ideas of surrealism, Dave with a love of classic rock and a drive to find something, with a bit of wanderlust. Both found co-conspirators, in Dave's case it was Susanna Hoffs from the Bangles, whose later success drove Dave to try harder in music. Both came together in a band that was falling apart, and both changed that band to create their own art. As corporate pressure was put on them to make more, tour more, make more money, both pulled away. Letting their work do their speaking, something they were loathe to do.
This is more a biography of the two leads. There is little mention of the other members of the band, and little about their time in the studio. Usually these books will be loaded with instruments and studio tricks, inspiration for various songs, but this one is more about the scene, the ideas and the introvert aspect of both characters. As people who didn't share much, I am sure there was not much abut recording to report on. There is a lot about the Paisley Underground scene the two started in. Chicano rights, and how that might have affected Hope. And a little about Dave, his wandering and finally his passing. I did not know much about the band, and found this all very interesting and new. I didn't even know they had an album out in the last ten years.
A book for fans, but one they might know already. As I said I enjoyed this, but I can see where readers of the series might be a bit annoyed. However I can see how hard this book was to write. How can one write on a band that let the music talk for them, music that can mean so much to people, in different ways. It was nice to read about a band that didn't go into the fame game, that just wanted to play, and maybe excise a demon or two. I do know I have been listening to my old CD's, and have rediscovered much that I missed. And for that I thank the writer.
Read
February 1, 2026Another in my recent run of 33 1/3s that are really more potted biographies of an act than truly focused on a single album, something where the imprint could do with tightening the editorial screws a little. But, in fairness, it's not as if it was a story I knew; the first time I heard Fade Into You it seemed like it had always been there, immemorial as the desert wind, and presumably that goes double for those who've encountered it in later years, given its ubiquity on film soundtracks, social media &c, into which Gomez delves with conflicted emotions. Certainly I was surprised to learn that guitarist David Roback was of an earlier generation, the childhood friend then lover and bandmate of Susanna Hoffs from the Bangles. Truthfully, I might not even have been able to tell you the guitarist was called David Roback, though of course I knew Hope Sandoval, had the default nineties crush on her, found her relationship with William Reid at once baffling and adorable, as was the fashion at the time. Even here, though, while one of the lenses through which Gomez approaches her is introversion, and the awkwardness of that once the art emerging from a shy person's private world makes them a celebrity, he also leans hard on her Hispanic background which, surname notwithstanding, I'd never really twigged. Sometimes this feels as if he's gone a bit further than the connection warrants: Dali confessing that Mexico had out-surrealed him is always fun, but I'm not sure I hear much surrealism in Mazzy Star, and saying that "the US stole the Southwest" is rich when Mexico was itself a colonial state. Gomez also comes across as wanting to have it both ways when he endorses the band's reticence towards the press et al, then engages in feats of Kremlinology to deduce messages about their sentiments from the music videos that, left to their own devices, they'd probably prefer not to have made. Any band members beyond the central pair, on the other hand, are left in the invisibility the stars apparently, inconsistently wanted. Most vexing of all is the concluding statement that "Roback and Sandoval are the Don Quixote and Sancho Panza of music. Just as these immortal characters do, they understand the necessity of dreaming to make it through the mundanity of reality." Surely the whole point of Quixote is the push and pull of the pair, one a dreamer but the other down to earth? And I can certainly think of bands with that dynamic, but it's not at all the impression given by the preceding account, in which Roback and Sandoval seem more to egg each other on, retreating ever further from the limelight until we're left with the present situation where there are rumoured to be further recordings, but Sandoval doesn't want them released until she, like Roback, has safely left the stage.
(Netgalley ARC)
(Netgalley ARC)
May 26, 2026
Mazzy Star's So Tonight That I Might See, by Anthony Gomez III, is a solid addition to the 33 1/3 series, with a mix of personal reflection and factual information.
Like any series that doesn't insist that the writers stick to the same old routine for every book, and admittedly some readers only want the same book written the same way just about a different subject every single time, every volume will be different. This series and this book are wonderful examples. If you simply want a rehash of how an album was made and how it did on the charts, there are a lot of places to find those things. Yes, mostly articles written close to the time of the release, but that is because the cut and dried material has been exhausted within a short time. This series gives writers, and readers, a chance to share a bit more. The album is a focal point for what is in the book, but it isn't always a track-by-track breakdown, thank goodness.
This volume wasn't my favorite but I still found it interesting and I learned a bit about how it was received, and how Hope was viewed, by people beyond my immediate circle of early/mid 90s college friends. There is a nice discussion of how they formed, what their influences were, and what difficulties they faced with such sudden popularity. All in all a fun and informative book.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
Like any series that doesn't insist that the writers stick to the same old routine for every book, and admittedly some readers only want the same book written the same way just about a different subject every single time, every volume will be different. This series and this book are wonderful examples. If you simply want a rehash of how an album was made and how it did on the charts, there are a lot of places to find those things. Yes, mostly articles written close to the time of the release, but that is because the cut and dried material has been exhausted within a short time. This series gives writers, and readers, a chance to share a bit more. The album is a focal point for what is in the book, but it isn't always a track-by-track breakdown, thank goodness.
This volume wasn't my favorite but I still found it interesting and I learned a bit about how it was received, and how Hope was viewed, by people beyond my immediate circle of early/mid 90s college friends. There is a nice discussion of how they formed, what their influences were, and what difficulties they faced with such sudden popularity. All in all a fun and informative book.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
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