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Still in a Dream: Shoegaze, Slackers and the Reinvention of Rock, 1984–1994
The definitive story of the slackers and shoegazers who reinvented rock.
Twenty years after his acclaimed postpunk best-seller, Rip It Up and Start Again, Simon Reynolds tells the tale of what happened the underground explosion of noisepop, shoegaze, slacker rock and grunge that reverberated through the late Eighties into the early Nineties.
Capturing the musical exhilaration of the era along with the alienation of youth during a period of ascendant conservative politics and glitzy mainstream pop, Still in a Dream celebrates a golden age of guitar reinvention, a second psychedelia of mind-blowing sounds pioneered by bands like My Bloody Valentine and Sonic Youth. In Britain, groups like Cocteau Twins and Slowdive escaped into shimmering dreamworlds while American underground rockers like Dinosaur Jr. and Pavement blended apathy and urgency into thrilling noise.
A propulsive and personal account from a journalist who covered this music in real time from the frontlines, Still in a Dream vividly recreates a period that was the last blast for the analogue culture of vinyl records and music papers, before the Internet changed everything.
Twenty years after his acclaimed postpunk best-seller, Rip It Up and Start Again, Simon Reynolds tells the tale of what happened the underground explosion of noisepop, shoegaze, slacker rock and grunge that reverberated through the late Eighties into the early Nineties.
Capturing the musical exhilaration of the era along with the alienation of youth during a period of ascendant conservative politics and glitzy mainstream pop, Still in a Dream celebrates a golden age of guitar reinvention, a second psychedelia of mind-blowing sounds pioneered by bands like My Bloody Valentine and Sonic Youth. In Britain, groups like Cocteau Twins and Slowdive escaped into shimmering dreamworlds while American underground rockers like Dinosaur Jr. and Pavement blended apathy and urgency into thrilling noise.
A propulsive and personal account from a journalist who covered this music in real time from the frontlines, Still in a Dream vividly recreates a period that was the last blast for the analogue culture of vinyl records and music papers, before the Internet changed everything.
464 pages, Paperback
First published June 18, 2026
About the author
Simon Reynolds
57 books542 followersSimon Reynolds is one of the most respected music journalists working today, and his writing is both influential and polarizing. He draws on an impressive range of knowledge, and writes with a fluid, engaging style. His books Rip it Up and Start Again and Generation Ecstasy are well-regarded works about their respective genres, and RETROMANIA may be his most broadly appealing book yet. It makes an argument about art, nostalgia, and technology that has implications for all readerswhether diehard music fans or not. Its an important and provocative look at the present and future of culture and innovation."
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February 5, 2026good to know that simon reynolds' writing irreversibly changed me as a teenager and will continue to do so as a 25 year old
August 4, 2026
Surprised even myself by how much I enjoyed and devoured this book. Just loved it. Though I admit, I’m pretty much the bulls-eye of the target audience: 50 year old male, british music nerd, reader, who bought a copy of Loveless the week it came out when I was a kid. But I was just a weird Canadian – this book is a feast of insider scoops and insights from a guy who lived and breathed this era of music that was so formative to me, even from a distance. But Simon Reynonlds, as a music writer during the 1984-1994 period this covers - was there, in London (and later NYC) interviewing the bands, watching the evolution, thinking about it in an analytic way.
Of course, I loved the sections writing about MBV, Sonic Youth, Cocteau Twins – these bands that feel part of my soul. But I also enjoyed learning about other bands in the scene and era, some of which I had barely heard of and never properly respected, like AR Kane, and Insides. Some sections missed me a bit – I was never into that American early slacker scene (Big Black, Husker Du, Pixies) but his section on grunge was insightful, and was not as out of place in this story as I had thought.
What I really appreciate about Simon’s writing is his capacity to trace the lineage of sounds and influences, his thoughtful capacity to put words to ineffable qualities of music (I mean, calling Seefeel music “Rothko-and-Roll” is just brilliant) but perhaps moreso, his ability to see into the ethos of the time, place and people who were making the music. His sense of how the cultural aesthetic and music philosophy and politics are all boiled into the indie music is just fabulous, and I found myself often amazed at how he was capturing feelings of an era that I felt true, but had never articulated. I love this ability to see how the potent fresh music of a culture are a direct manifestation of that moment’s gestalt. We know that is true, but it’s so hard to say how. When you’re in it, you don’t always see that clearly.
I didn’t learn the phrase “shoegaze” until decades after the scene flourished, and I was amazed to learn that all these bands that I loved had some kind of connection. Back in the early 90’s I had no idea how bands like Ride, MBV, Swervedriver, J&MC, Stone Roses, etc., were connected. We had no information back then, no internet to tell us – all I knew was that I loved these cool british bands that were making what felt like a british take on the vivacity of American grunge. But I grew out of grunge pretty quickly, and fully, but decades later, I could then look up a new term – shoegaze – and discover a band from that time that I was likely going to enjoy. And thanks to this book, it’s still happening.
I thank Simon for such a labour of love and such a delightful insight. I adored his previous book about Post-Punk (Rip it up) but this one feels more personal to my most potent highschool music years. This book is still not available in Canada, so I’m also grateful that Simon pointed me in the right direction after contacting him on Instagram – so that when I went to the UK a few weeks ago I was able to find a copy (Rough Trade in Bristol. Note that they were sold out / had none in Rough Trade East (London)!). I suspect that likely means I may be the first person in Canada to read this book? Or close to it. Over 400 pages and I wished it was longer. Still I could rave on (rave down?) about this book but I’ll keep my enthusiasm to a limit.
If you love this era of music, read this book. So, so satisfying.
Of course, I loved the sections writing about MBV, Sonic Youth, Cocteau Twins – these bands that feel part of my soul. But I also enjoyed learning about other bands in the scene and era, some of which I had barely heard of and never properly respected, like AR Kane, and Insides. Some sections missed me a bit – I was never into that American early slacker scene (Big Black, Husker Du, Pixies) but his section on grunge was insightful, and was not as out of place in this story as I had thought.
What I really appreciate about Simon’s writing is his capacity to trace the lineage of sounds and influences, his thoughtful capacity to put words to ineffable qualities of music (I mean, calling Seefeel music “Rothko-and-Roll” is just brilliant) but perhaps moreso, his ability to see into the ethos of the time, place and people who were making the music. His sense of how the cultural aesthetic and music philosophy and politics are all boiled into the indie music is just fabulous, and I found myself often amazed at how he was capturing feelings of an era that I felt true, but had never articulated. I love this ability to see how the potent fresh music of a culture are a direct manifestation of that moment’s gestalt. We know that is true, but it’s so hard to say how. When you’re in it, you don’t always see that clearly.
I didn’t learn the phrase “shoegaze” until decades after the scene flourished, and I was amazed to learn that all these bands that I loved had some kind of connection. Back in the early 90’s I had no idea how bands like Ride, MBV, Swervedriver, J&MC, Stone Roses, etc., were connected. We had no information back then, no internet to tell us – all I knew was that I loved these cool british bands that were making what felt like a british take on the vivacity of American grunge. But I grew out of grunge pretty quickly, and fully, but decades later, I could then look up a new term – shoegaze – and discover a band from that time that I was likely going to enjoy. And thanks to this book, it’s still happening.
I thank Simon for such a labour of love and such a delightful insight. I adored his previous book about Post-Punk (Rip it up) but this one feels more personal to my most potent highschool music years. This book is still not available in Canada, so I’m also grateful that Simon pointed me in the right direction after contacting him on Instagram – so that when I went to the UK a few weeks ago I was able to find a copy (Rough Trade in Bristol. Note that they were sold out / had none in Rough Trade East (London)!). I suspect that likely means I may be the first person in Canada to read this book? Or close to it. Over 400 pages and I wished it was longer. Still I could rave on (rave down?) about this book but I’ll keep my enthusiasm to a limit.
If you love this era of music, read this book. So, so satisfying.
July 7, 2026
reckon the lost mbv jungle album will sound pretty amazing when it comes out in 2075
August 28, 2026
What a fantastic book this is! It is, I think, the finest work by the best living music writer.
Simon Reynolds looks back fondly on an era during which he worked for Melody Maker, once seen as the poor relation to NME but which evolved into a journal that took more risks after the Punk explosion had died down. His writing on everything from The Smiths to My Bloody Valentine is exceptional but what makes the book so special is that he describes his own journey into the world of rock criticism as seen from the mature perspective of a sixty something.
He evokes a world which, post-Internet, no longer exists; recalling an era when information was not available at the click of a mouse. He does so without descending into mawkish nostalgia.
In the afterword he confesses : "The job of a rock writer, almost a sacred duty, was to make things seem bigger than they were." The sense of discovery, independence and adventure is what he values in music both then and now. Rock and pop are still what he hails as "life's essential inessentials" and Reynolds' gift to music lovers of all ages is to articulate passionately why this still holds true.
Simon Reynolds looks back fondly on an era during which he worked for Melody Maker, once seen as the poor relation to NME but which evolved into a journal that took more risks after the Punk explosion had died down. His writing on everything from The Smiths to My Bloody Valentine is exceptional but what makes the book so special is that he describes his own journey into the world of rock criticism as seen from the mature perspective of a sixty something.
He evokes a world which, post-Internet, no longer exists; recalling an era when information was not available at the click of a mouse. He does so without descending into mawkish nostalgia.
In the afterword he confesses : "The job of a rock writer, almost a sacred duty, was to make things seem bigger than they were." The sense of discovery, independence and adventure is what he values in music both then and now. Rock and pop are still what he hails as "life's essential inessentials" and Reynolds' gift to music lovers of all ages is to articulate passionately why this still holds true.
August 15, 2026
Reynolds is really good at contextualising even the most minor subgenres such as "Arse Quake" dialectically, showing what things in the culture they existed in-reaction-to, and what then reacted against them in turn. He is also a very fun and approachable writer and in this book, talks about most of my very favourite bands while deflating some of the mythos around them. Each genre or scene is shown as flawed in some way, and I think having Reynolds deglamourise what most people my age only know of secondhand is what makes this book worth reading.
I am glad to see The Replacements, Dinosaur Jr, Husker Du, Beat Happening, Sonic Youth, Big Black and Butthole Surfers talked about in detail (although you'll find much deeper and more entertaining profiles of these same bands in Michael Azerad's Our Band Could Be Your Life). He adds a few more US bands to the Azerrad canon, but what is most interesting is the swinging back and forth between similar movements in the US and UK, particuarly the antithetical genres (Grunge vs Britpop or Grunge vs Shoegaze. Really, he makes grunge and even Nirvana seem pretty shit). But what I like is the lack of reverence towards every band and movement without the tone ever being snarky or disrespectful.
And I was most glad to hear my favourite UK band Disco Inferno hyped up at the end. Theres still nothing I've heard that sounds like them.
Finishing the audiobook in a few days is probably not the way to read this book. I was fortunate to know and love most of the bands to not feel the need to pause and open up spotify, but I think reading at a slower pace while relistening to those albums, especially unfamiliar ones, is the best way to read any music-survey book.
Although this book isn't groundbreaking in regards to what one can learn of any given band, it casts an impressively wide net, telling a cohesive story of the wriggling rise and fall of guitar-based Indie Rock from the early 80s until the mid-90s. Now I need to revisit his similar treatment of post-punk in Rip It Up and Start Again.
I am glad to see The Replacements, Dinosaur Jr, Husker Du, Beat Happening, Sonic Youth, Big Black and Butthole Surfers talked about in detail (although you'll find much deeper and more entertaining profiles of these same bands in Michael Azerad's Our Band Could Be Your Life). He adds a few more US bands to the Azerrad canon, but what is most interesting is the swinging back and forth between similar movements in the US and UK, particuarly the antithetical genres (Grunge vs Britpop or Grunge vs Shoegaze. Really, he makes grunge and even Nirvana seem pretty shit). But what I like is the lack of reverence towards every band and movement without the tone ever being snarky or disrespectful.
And I was most glad to hear my favourite UK band Disco Inferno hyped up at the end. Theres still nothing I've heard that sounds like them.
Finishing the audiobook in a few days is probably not the way to read this book. I was fortunate to know and love most of the bands to not feel the need to pause and open up spotify, but I think reading at a slower pace while relistening to those albums, especially unfamiliar ones, is the best way to read any music-survey book.
Although this book isn't groundbreaking in regards to what one can learn of any given band, it casts an impressively wide net, telling a cohesive story of the wriggling rise and fall of guitar-based Indie Rock from the early 80s until the mid-90s. Now I need to revisit his similar treatment of post-punk in Rip It Up and Start Again.
August 31, 2026
Music writer and cultural critic takes us on a ride through independent and underground music between 1984 and 1994- and if you know me, you know this is a topic and time period I am quite fond of. Really enjoyable.
September 5, 2026
Lång och faktaspäckad redogörelse för majoriteten av de mest namnkunniga banden inom gitarrbaserad alternativmusik 1984–1994, vilket får anses vara genrens gyllene era. För novisen kanske mest en lång uppräkning av band, låtar och spelningar, men för oss nördar är sånt här mumma.
June 30, 2026
This is not a dedicated music history. This is not the story of how a wide group of artists influenced one another to discover the indie/slacker/shoegaze sound. And it's certainly not definitive. It is a book about vibes: Simon Reynolds' interpretation of the vibe shift as the political urgency of the post-punk era gave way to a dreamier, indifferent strain of underground music in reaction to the culture of the time, based on his work at Melody Maker. His thesis is interesting, he's a good writer, and the project is an enjoyable read, but billing it as a follow up to Rip It Up And Start Again feels like a bit of a bait-and-switch.
I was really looking forward to a broad scope of notable and forgotten underground acts of the era, primarily focusing on the artists listed on the cover, but many of the bands highlighted are only discussed for a few paragraphs or pages. (PJ Harvey's career is reduced to a single paragraph where she acts as a foil to the grunge scene.) It's a frustrating reading experience to finally reach the Pavement chapter, for example, only to move on from the group after three pages. Reynolds does a great job highlighting some obscurities in the bonus zine, but I don't see why these weren't used as the foundation for chapters on dream pop, American shoegaze, the Dunedin sound, no wave, etc.
Reynolds is at his best when making broad cultural observations and dashing off a list of British bands to back it up but falters when discussing American bands and specific artists at length, which this book depends on more than Rip It Up. He expresses disdain for hardcore music, and I respect the editorialization, but so many of these bands have hardcore roots, and that leads him to pick up several narratives when the artists are on their creative decline (I.E. Husker Du). If you're picking this book up specifically for insights on American music, I'd just reread Our Band Could Be Your Life.
That's not to say I disliked the book. His thesis is interesting and his narrative really shines at times, particularly in the final chapter pitting post-rock and Britpop against one another, but if you're anticipating the granularity of Rip It Up—an album-by-album breakdown that culminates in a final sound—you'll be a little disappointed. Giving this a 3.5 if we're including the bonus zine, a 3 if we aren't. The market for a dedicated history of shoegaze is still wide open.
I was really looking forward to a broad scope of notable and forgotten underground acts of the era, primarily focusing on the artists listed on the cover, but many of the bands highlighted are only discussed for a few paragraphs or pages. (PJ Harvey's career is reduced to a single paragraph where she acts as a foil to the grunge scene.) It's a frustrating reading experience to finally reach the Pavement chapter, for example, only to move on from the group after three pages. Reynolds does a great job highlighting some obscurities in the bonus zine, but I don't see why these weren't used as the foundation for chapters on dream pop, American shoegaze, the Dunedin sound, no wave, etc.
Reynolds is at his best when making broad cultural observations and dashing off a list of British bands to back it up but falters when discussing American bands and specific artists at length, which this book depends on more than Rip It Up. He expresses disdain for hardcore music, and I respect the editorialization, but so many of these bands have hardcore roots, and that leads him to pick up several narratives when the artists are on their creative decline (I.E. Husker Du). If you're picking this book up specifically for insights on American music, I'd just reread Our Band Could Be Your Life.
That's not to say I disliked the book. His thesis is interesting and his narrative really shines at times, particularly in the final chapter pitting post-rock and Britpop against one another, but if you're anticipating the granularity of Rip It Up—an album-by-album breakdown that culminates in a final sound—you'll be a little disappointed. Giving this a 3.5 if we're including the bonus zine, a 3 if we aren't. The market for a dedicated history of shoegaze is still wide open.
July 14, 2026
Bit of a disappointing read so far, said as someone who's a really big fan of Reynold's writing.
The intro - describing the zeal of a young music writer - is great, and poignant given that whole landscape has completely changed, never to be returned to.
However Simon casts a really wide net here while simultaneously often breezing past bands who should be a focal point of a book with this title (i feel like Dinosaur Jr are dispensed with in 3/4 pages, plus it's kind of stuff he's written about them before)
In a way this might be unserstandable. J Mascis famously doesn't give music journalists a lot of context for his work. AR Kane, by comparison, know how to talk the talk (we learn that one of the band is an advertising copywriter) and get a whole chapter to themselves.
What seems like an interminable amount of time is spent talking up bands who seem to see 'reversion to childhood' as their driving aesthetic, who sound kind of obnoxious (no i'm not going to listen to them to confirm) and who Simon himself doesn't seem entirely convinced by.
As above, it all feels a bit random and scattershot, so don't go in expecting a defining tome in the style of his earlier books about postpunk etc. Shoegaze is but one strand among many here.
The intro - describing the zeal of a young music writer - is great, and poignant given that whole landscape has completely changed, never to be returned to.
However Simon casts a really wide net here while simultaneously often breezing past bands who should be a focal point of a book with this title (i feel like Dinosaur Jr are dispensed with in 3/4 pages, plus it's kind of stuff he's written about them before)
In a way this might be unserstandable. J Mascis famously doesn't give music journalists a lot of context for his work. AR Kane, by comparison, know how to talk the talk (we learn that one of the band is an advertising copywriter) and get a whole chapter to themselves.
What seems like an interminable amount of time is spent talking up bands who seem to see 'reversion to childhood' as their driving aesthetic, who sound kind of obnoxious (no i'm not going to listen to them to confirm) and who Simon himself doesn't seem entirely convinced by.
As above, it all feels a bit random and scattershot, so don't go in expecting a defining tome in the style of his earlier books about postpunk etc. Shoegaze is but one strand among many here.
August 7, 2026
How ironic that shoegaze is understood as unconscious in both its creation and effect, and yet it's the only genre that's ever made me feel lucid,
where I feel as though I've encountered myself,
where I know who I am, if only for a fleeting moment.
So when you wake... (you're still in a dream).
Shoegaze 4 ever ! ★
where I feel as though I've encountered myself,
where I know who I am, if only for a fleeting moment.
So when you wake... (you're still in a dream).
Shoegaze 4 ever ! ★
September 26, 2026
Perhaps a bit of a cash-in as the resurgence of shoegaze precipitates a surge of books explaining the phenomenon. Perhaps also a quick and easy book to write, given it is prompted by the journalism Reynolds did at the time, revisiting and revising prior work, rather than researching something new. What results is a history of the music twinned with an account of the music press that covered it. That slight dip into autobiography spurs grander questions about what the point of music and music criticism is. And for all of his indulgence and love of theory-laden conjectures about the interplay of culture and politics, Reynolds’ conclusion here (inevitably for such inwardly-focused music, perhaps) is quite modest and personal. This is the critic I have read the most, and whose tastes have probably influenced mine the most, and while the shine has worn off slightly, his statement on what all that work ultimately means is significant to me. Like Harold Bloom or David Thomson – the opinions are less valuable than the sheer enthusiasm with which they are expressed. A brilliant critic has the authority and verve to move you to try something you haven’t heard of before just through the power of their words. I picked up a few new things on my read through of this, which goes to show Reynolds’s still got it.
September 20, 2026
Was incredible and Simon Reynolds definitely succeeded in his explicit aim of giving me a retroactive high through the rich history of rock with memorable chapters on shoegaze and dream pop.
However it dragged by the end and I unashamedly skipped a few chapters on the slackers…regardless great great account of the reinvention of rock through Reynolds’s own meditations on his life and journey as a music journalist overall rlly liked it.
(3.5)
However it dragged by the end and I unashamedly skipped a few chapters on the slackers…regardless great great account of the reinvention of rock through Reynolds’s own meditations on his life and journey as a music journalist overall rlly liked it.
(3.5)
September 22, 2026
an absolutely sublime lovesong to the era, could read over and over. Can't wait to go to a talk hosted by Reynolds next month <3
September 25, 2026
Bit aimless and the bands that get more than a few paragraphs often seem odd choices, but this is kinda just a memoir so I get it. A pleasant enough read.
July 29, 2026
I first came across Simon Reynolds when he published his first book, Blissed Out: The Raptures of Rock (1990), a kind of remixed compilation of his pieces from mostly UK inkie Melody Maker. His enthusiasm for Hüsker Dü, Dinosaur Jr., Sonic Youth, My Bloody Valentine and his sharp critical analysis and bold writing made me an instant fan. While some have called this the successor to Rip it Up and Start Again: Postpunk 1978-1984, which certainly makes sense chronologically, to me it circles back to his first book, which a more loose, personal approach, inserting autobiographical stories throughout. It’s less a meticulously detailed history of an era as much as it’s a loving tribute to the music he was passionate about, and what it felt like to experience it for the first time. He occasionally framed it in contrast to that which he mostly didn’t like (grunge, Britpop). Despite being 464 pages, it breezed by. Reynolds mostly used original interviews he did at the time, but did go that far in depth for most artists. It might be the most brisk, easy read of any of his books, and I enjoyed it immensely. But I do have questions.
As great as Rip it Up was, it was an incomplete history. I’m not talking about hyper-obscure American bands of the post-punk era, which could make for an entirely separate book. These are pretty major bands from the UK scene that have only grown in estimation and stature since then — The Comsat Angels, The Sound, The Chameleons, and also the more obscure Modern Eon, Sad Lovers and Giants, Opposition, The Passions, Scars, TV21, Lowlife, The Distractions, etc. Their exclusion largely came down to Reynolds not really liking them, probably feeling that they didn’t offer the kind of innovation he valued. Fair enough.
He does the same in this book. I can understand his lack of interest in U2, Simple Minds, Echo & the Bunnymen, and Love and Rockets. He had the luxury of mostly covering what he wanted to back then, so he ignored those major artists. But still, I’m surprised to see no mention of The Cure and Depeche Mode. Not only did both help evolve post-punk and new wave into a massive juggernaut, but they are the closest entities, along with U2, to reimagine themselves as their own brand, transcending genre the way the likes of Pink Floyd, The Who and Led Zeppelin did. Certainly more so than The Smiths. Back when we were emailing while he was working on Rip It Up, Reynolds even said he’d developed a new appreciation for Depeche Mode’s later work. Perhaps they were left out because he didn’t cover them at the time. Or maybe there’s parts of the book that were cut to keep the length down. Hopefully he can answer that question sometime.
I was surprised that he dedicated quite a few words to The Replacements. I knew he loved their hometown frenemies Hüsker Dü, but did not expect him to be a fan of the ‘Mats. That seemed a bit of an outlier from the decidedly more ethereal thread from Cocteau Twins to Hugo Largo, Throwing Muses, Pixies, A.R. Kane, The Sugarcubes, Spacemen 3, Loop, Galaxie 500 and Flying Saucer Attack. He makes a strong case that 1988 was one of the greatest years in music, though I’d also make a case for 1986. While he mentioned The Woodentops in passing, dismissing them as part of some kind of floppy hat subgrenre, there’s no mention of The Chameleons who’s Strange Times came out the same day and is more consistent than their labelmates’ The Queen is Dead. There’s also XTC, The Church, Easterhouse, The The and Shriekback at their psychedlic post-punk/jangle peaks. While I’m not surprised Reynolds didn’t mention them, I am shocked he didn’t write more about Talk Talk, who made an amazing artistic progression from derivative New Romantics to a major influence on post-rock. But he did dedicate a chapter to, um arsequake (noise rock bands like Big Black and Butthole Surfers).
In contrast, he was more complete when discussing shoegaze, at least explaining why he didn’t favor the more rock-leaning Ride, Swervedriver, Catherine Wheel, Chapterhouse and Kitchens of Distinction rather than leaving them completely out. It was interesting to learn how he was relatively disappointed by Loveless, and he had me going back and listening to the two 1988 EPs and key tracks from Isn’t Anything that was famously included on a promo tape that he wore out. A lot of the best tracks from shoegaze bands were lost on early EPs and left off the albums, and it was illuminating going back and listening to the entire EPs from his secondary favorites Lush and Slowdive. I was also surprised though, that he didn’t have a lot to say about Souvlaki (1993), widely considered by many in hindsight as the one shoegaze album to rival Loveless.
I’m also surprised by the amount of coverage of slacker rock (a term that poppped up as a genre in Rate Your Music in recent years that I have no time for). I didn’t think he’d have any time for Pavement. I just don’t think it merits a distinction from indie rock, though he goes into an interesting bit about Richard Linklater’s first couple films. Teenage Fanclub, Mercury Rev, Sebadoh, Happy Mondays and Beck just don’t have much in common in my mind.
His section on post-rock also surprisingly doesn’t delve especially deep, with just a few extra paragraphs dedicated to favorites Seefeel, Main, Disco Inferno and Insides, a little about Pram, Laika, Bark Psychosis and nothing about Slint’s Spiderland, Codeine, Low, Tortoise, Labradford, and `O’rang, most of which he wrote plenty about back in the day. He devotes more words for criticism of grunge (with the exception of Alice in Chains, who he likes) and Britpop (save for Pulp and World of Twist).
I had a blast making a playlist while reading the book and revisiting some music I hadn’t listened to in years. Despite some quibbles, I highly recommend this to anyone who cares for any of the bands covered here. And fingers crossed this will generate some interest in covering the music from the era that Reynolds left out.
This was published on June 18 in the UK but apparently won’t be published in the US until Jan 12. That’s absurd. There’s a long list of music books that have never been properly published in the US. WTF??
As great as Rip it Up was, it was an incomplete history. I’m not talking about hyper-obscure American bands of the post-punk era, which could make for an entirely separate book. These are pretty major bands from the UK scene that have only grown in estimation and stature since then — The Comsat Angels, The Sound, The Chameleons, and also the more obscure Modern Eon, Sad Lovers and Giants, Opposition, The Passions, Scars, TV21, Lowlife, The Distractions, etc. Their exclusion largely came down to Reynolds not really liking them, probably feeling that they didn’t offer the kind of innovation he valued. Fair enough.
He does the same in this book. I can understand his lack of interest in U2, Simple Minds, Echo & the Bunnymen, and Love and Rockets. He had the luxury of mostly covering what he wanted to back then, so he ignored those major artists. But still, I’m surprised to see no mention of The Cure and Depeche Mode. Not only did both help evolve post-punk and new wave into a massive juggernaut, but they are the closest entities, along with U2, to reimagine themselves as their own brand, transcending genre the way the likes of Pink Floyd, The Who and Led Zeppelin did. Certainly more so than The Smiths. Back when we were emailing while he was working on Rip It Up, Reynolds even said he’d developed a new appreciation for Depeche Mode’s later work. Perhaps they were left out because he didn’t cover them at the time. Or maybe there’s parts of the book that were cut to keep the length down. Hopefully he can answer that question sometime.
I was surprised that he dedicated quite a few words to The Replacements. I knew he loved their hometown frenemies Hüsker Dü, but did not expect him to be a fan of the ‘Mats. That seemed a bit of an outlier from the decidedly more ethereal thread from Cocteau Twins to Hugo Largo, Throwing Muses, Pixies, A.R. Kane, The Sugarcubes, Spacemen 3, Loop, Galaxie 500 and Flying Saucer Attack. He makes a strong case that 1988 was one of the greatest years in music, though I’d also make a case for 1986. While he mentioned The Woodentops in passing, dismissing them as part of some kind of floppy hat subgrenre, there’s no mention of The Chameleons who’s Strange Times came out the same day and is more consistent than their labelmates’ The Queen is Dead. There’s also XTC, The Church, Easterhouse, The The and Shriekback at their psychedlic post-punk/jangle peaks. While I’m not surprised Reynolds didn’t mention them, I am shocked he didn’t write more about Talk Talk, who made an amazing artistic progression from derivative New Romantics to a major influence on post-rock. But he did dedicate a chapter to, um arsequake (noise rock bands like Big Black and Butthole Surfers).
In contrast, he was more complete when discussing shoegaze, at least explaining why he didn’t favor the more rock-leaning Ride, Swervedriver, Catherine Wheel, Chapterhouse and Kitchens of Distinction rather than leaving them completely out. It was interesting to learn how he was relatively disappointed by Loveless, and he had me going back and listening to the two 1988 EPs and key tracks from Isn’t Anything that was famously included on a promo tape that he wore out. A lot of the best tracks from shoegaze bands were lost on early EPs and left off the albums, and it was illuminating going back and listening to the entire EPs from his secondary favorites Lush and Slowdive. I was also surprised though, that he didn’t have a lot to say about Souvlaki (1993), widely considered by many in hindsight as the one shoegaze album to rival Loveless.
I’m also surprised by the amount of coverage of slacker rock (a term that poppped up as a genre in Rate Your Music in recent years that I have no time for). I didn’t think he’d have any time for Pavement. I just don’t think it merits a distinction from indie rock, though he goes into an interesting bit about Richard Linklater’s first couple films. Teenage Fanclub, Mercury Rev, Sebadoh, Happy Mondays and Beck just don’t have much in common in my mind.
His section on post-rock also surprisingly doesn’t delve especially deep, with just a few extra paragraphs dedicated to favorites Seefeel, Main, Disco Inferno and Insides, a little about Pram, Laika, Bark Psychosis and nothing about Slint’s Spiderland, Codeine, Low, Tortoise, Labradford, and `O’rang, most of which he wrote plenty about back in the day. He devotes more words for criticism of grunge (with the exception of Alice in Chains, who he likes) and Britpop (save for Pulp and World of Twist).
I had a blast making a playlist while reading the book and revisiting some music I hadn’t listened to in years. Despite some quibbles, I highly recommend this to anyone who cares for any of the bands covered here. And fingers crossed this will generate some interest in covering the music from the era that Reynolds left out.
This was published on June 18 in the UK but apparently won’t be published in the US until Jan 12. That’s absurd. There’s a long list of music books that have never been properly published in the US. WTF??
Review of advance copy received from Publisher
I was very excited when I saw that this was coming out, so I immediately emailed the publisher to say that I wanted to host a launch event for it. They told me that Reynolds lived in the USA and they weren't sure if he was coming over for the publication, but a few weeks later they confirmed he was so we set one up. A few years ago I read and loved Rip It Up and Start Again, on postpunk, and Retromania on the conservatism of backward looking music which was similarly brilliant. I was already a huge postpunk lover, but that book introduced me to several obscure bands that I went on to listen to and love. I am a huge fan of this period of indie rock music (84 - 94), so I was looking forward to repeating my previous experience.
I was born in 1981 so Rip It Up and Start Again explored the musical era I was born in, and so when I started discovering this music when I was about 17 onwards it was all in the distant past. The period that this book covers coincides with me being more aware of the music happening around me, but as a 3 - 13 year old I wasn't paying attention to this kind of stuff, until the book gets to Grunge. I loved Michael Jackson as a kid, but it wasn't until I was 11 and I discovered Nirvana and the Prodigy that I really fell in love with music. After discovering these groups I moved to Harlesden in London, made friends with a big group of black boys my age, and we exclusively listen to Rap, Jungle or Ragga, and it wasn't until after I was 16 that I started paying attention to Rock music again. I gradually began to discover some of the groups in this book. Somehow I discovered the Velvet Underground, which led me down a pathway of discovering all of their inheritors like The Pixies, Sonic Youth, The Jesus and Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine, Pavement etc... I managed to see all of these bands live at some point in the 2000's, though they were all past their glory days and I was there to hear the music from the 80's - early 90's.
This book is very personal for Reynolds, because he was just starting out in music journalism in this period of time. He began a fanzine, and managed to get a staff position at Melody Maker, so he has a symbiotic relationship with this music scene, having interviewed, watched, reviewed and encouraged many of the bands. He suggests that in some ways this was the last gasp of Rock music before it was superseded by the rise of electronic music and hip hop. I tend to agree with him. There are good rock bands after this period, but I don't think that there has been a really exciting or innovative rock scene since then. Grunge and Britpop were the last major rock scenes (both covered in this book), and both of them are kind of backward looking and retro. What do you get after this? Nu-Metal? Shite. Pop Punk/Emo? Shite. Indie Sleaze? Some good stuff but all of it is derivative.
Reynolds' music criticism is intelligent and insightful. He argues that Postpunk became exhausted and the music he writes about here arose as a dialectical response to what came before. Postpunk was about tension, intensity, politics, anti-rockist instrumentation, repudiating the music of the 60s and 70s. The music that follows re-introduces influences from the 60s and 70s, brings the guitar back to the forefront, revels in emotion and feeling and texture, and moves away from overt politics towards individual experience and feelings. It creates a neo-psychedelia. Reagan was elected twice, followed by George HW Bush, and Thatcher was elected three times followed by John Major in this period. Many young people became depressed and apathetic about politics because it seemed that there was no way to overcome this reactionary politics. This helps to explain why so many bands turned inwards and why music became more spiritual, erotic or driven by psychology. Intelligent, meaningful lyrics had been a central part of Postpunk. Groups like Cocteau Twins, REM or My Bloody Valentine sang, murmured or whispered words or nonsense, and were using the voice as part of the music texture rather than putting it front and centre.
When I read Rip it Up and Start Again I was already a fan of groups like Wire, The Fall, Joy Division and the Talking Heads. But I learned about groups like Flipper, Chrome, Swell Maps, This Heat and Young Marble Giants from that book. Reading this, I was familiar with most of the bands but I have been listening to groups like Felt, Loop, Main, Dif Juz and Lush whilst reading this group. I have come away with lots to explore and discover.
I was born in 1981 so Rip It Up and Start Again explored the musical era I was born in, and so when I started discovering this music when I was about 17 onwards it was all in the distant past. The period that this book covers coincides with me being more aware of the music happening around me, but as a 3 - 13 year old I wasn't paying attention to this kind of stuff, until the book gets to Grunge. I loved Michael Jackson as a kid, but it wasn't until I was 11 and I discovered Nirvana and the Prodigy that I really fell in love with music. After discovering these groups I moved to Harlesden in London, made friends with a big group of black boys my age, and we exclusively listen to Rap, Jungle or Ragga, and it wasn't until after I was 16 that I started paying attention to Rock music again. I gradually began to discover some of the groups in this book. Somehow I discovered the Velvet Underground, which led me down a pathway of discovering all of their inheritors like The Pixies, Sonic Youth, The Jesus and Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine, Pavement etc... I managed to see all of these bands live at some point in the 2000's, though they were all past their glory days and I was there to hear the music from the 80's - early 90's.
This book is very personal for Reynolds, because he was just starting out in music journalism in this period of time. He began a fanzine, and managed to get a staff position at Melody Maker, so he has a symbiotic relationship with this music scene, having interviewed, watched, reviewed and encouraged many of the bands. He suggests that in some ways this was the last gasp of Rock music before it was superseded by the rise of electronic music and hip hop. I tend to agree with him. There are good rock bands after this period, but I don't think that there has been a really exciting or innovative rock scene since then. Grunge and Britpop were the last major rock scenes (both covered in this book), and both of them are kind of backward looking and retro. What do you get after this? Nu-Metal? Shite. Pop Punk/Emo? Shite. Indie Sleaze? Some good stuff but all of it is derivative.
Reynolds' music criticism is intelligent and insightful. He argues that Postpunk became exhausted and the music he writes about here arose as a dialectical response to what came before. Postpunk was about tension, intensity, politics, anti-rockist instrumentation, repudiating the music of the 60s and 70s. The music that follows re-introduces influences from the 60s and 70s, brings the guitar back to the forefront, revels in emotion and feeling and texture, and moves away from overt politics towards individual experience and feelings. It creates a neo-psychedelia. Reagan was elected twice, followed by George HW Bush, and Thatcher was elected three times followed by John Major in this period. Many young people became depressed and apathetic about politics because it seemed that there was no way to overcome this reactionary politics. This helps to explain why so many bands turned inwards and why music became more spiritual, erotic or driven by psychology. Intelligent, meaningful lyrics had been a central part of Postpunk. Groups like Cocteau Twins, REM or My Bloody Valentine sang, murmured or whispered words or nonsense, and were using the voice as part of the music texture rather than putting it front and centre.
When I read Rip it Up and Start Again I was already a fan of groups like Wire, The Fall, Joy Division and the Talking Heads. But I learned about groups like Flipper, Chrome, Swell Maps, This Heat and Young Marble Giants from that book. Reading this, I was familiar with most of the bands but I have been listening to groups like Felt, Loop, Main, Dif Juz and Lush whilst reading this group. I have come away with lots to explore and discover.
Read
July 25, 2026Op het eerste gezicht lijkt de nieuwe Reynolds een studie te worden over het ontstaan van shoegaze en aanverwante gitaarexperimenten uit de jaren '80. Het blijkt een curieus boek dat heerlijk wegleest. Op een niveau is dit een memoire van een muziekjournalist die zich meestal bescheiden opstelt en naar eigen zeggen het Britse weekblad Melody Maker zijn plek in de geschiedenis wilde geven. Dat levert intrigerende verhalen over de begincarrière van Reynolds en het leven als journalist in Londen op. Schrijven in de nacht, in de ochtend je artikel inleveren op kantoor, met weinig geld zo kunnen leven dat je nieuwe platen kunt kopen, maar niets overhouden om zelfs maar een drankje te kunnen veroorloven tijdens concerten die je recenseert. Opvallend ook de relatie tussen journalist en muzikant, vaak een afstandelijke kameraad, een scene die elkaar vooruit helpt. En Still In A Dream fungeert als een soort commentaar op Blissed Out, zijn eerste boek met teksten die in het moment werden geschreven, een "hoe kijk ik er nu tegenaan en wat gebeurde er daarna?" In het begin is er flink wat overlap tussen beide boeken: Throwing Muses, A.R. Kane, Butthole Surfers, The Smiths, Sonic Youth en My Bloody Valentine komen weer langs, maar in plaats van theoretische bespiegelingen krijg je nu een geleefde versie, hoe het was om ze te interviewen en in het geval van Butthole Surfers en MBV ongelooflijke beschrijvingen van hoe de bands leefden. Andere favorieten als Cocteau Twins, R.E.M., Hüsker Dü, Spacemen 3 en Big Black krijgen nu meer ruimte in mooie hoofdstukken. Reynolds is lyrisch over de jaren 1987-1988 wanneer hij en zijn collega's een nieuwe esthetiek pushen bij Melody Maker. Maar 1989 voelde destijds voor hem als een traag jaar. Daar eindigt Blissed Out dan ook met magistrale hoofdstukken over acid house en het einde van de muziek. Nu moet Reynolds verder. Wat gebeurde er met die inventieve gitaarmuziek? Grunge. Het is een verhaal dat verteld moet worden, hier al meer op degelijke Amerikaanse wijze, en het is een bekend verhaal. Het tweede deel voelt ook wat opsommerig: er zijn veel epigonen en soms verrassende vertakkingen (Royal Trux, Seefeel), maar het is te veel om de diepte mee in te duiken. Geen ramp, het is nog steeds heerlijk leesbaar. Tegen het einde pakt hij het slim anders aan door post-rock te positioneren tegenover Britpop als twee manieren om met The Beatles om te gaan (terechte observatie trouwens hoe The Beatles in de jaren '80 niets meer voorstelden). Echt ook een boek waardoor ik weer allemaal platen uit de kast heb getrokken, of eindelijk eens goed naar het debuut van Throwing Muses ben gaan luisteren.
June 19, 2026
I've never dropped everything so fast to read a book immediately after receiving my pre-order. Rip It Up and Start Again changed my life, but is largely about bands I intellectually admire more than actually listen to. Still in a Dream is about music I put on regularly, or grew up with, or spent hours being pretentious about in student bars. It's about a scene that exhausted itself a decade before I was old enough to personally participate in it, but still suffused all the spaces a historically-minded art scavenger like teenage me explored in search of identity. It's about the music I discovered as a student through excitingly smart friends and Gregg Araki movies and became obnoxiously pseudo-intellectual about. It talks about Murmur and Zen Arcade. It even takes the time to rhapsodize Throwing Muses' Chains Changed EP, which I must have listened to 10,000 times over the last few decades, and might have been genuinely life-saving on some level.
It's a good book. It met my sky-high expectations. It refuses to valorise or mythologise any of the usual suspects. It threatens to talk about Felt as much as Rip It Up and Start Again pushed Scritti Politti. It's a bit autobiographical. If it doesn't contain as much illuminating social context as that latter book, or such a sense of mission, or so many gargantuan personalities, that's a symptom of the subject rather than the book - a period of rock retreating from a sense of social purpose and mission into a kind of womblike interiority. Sometimes the spaces under examination feel monastic. J Mascis wasn't the least verbally articulate person on the scene.
Reading this I was frequently reminded of the rise of the mystery cult movement in the later Roman era. As people lost their political agency and hope for material change under the increasingly sclerotic and authoritarian Empire, the heart of culture moved from the public forums to hidden spaces under domestic dwellings - spaces of mysticism and personal withdrawal. Something similar seems to be happening here, but with more fuzzy guitars. I'm not sure what to do with that thought, except maybe retreat into a dark room and gaze at my shoes.
It's a good book. It met my sky-high expectations. It refuses to valorise or mythologise any of the usual suspects. It threatens to talk about Felt as much as Rip It Up and Start Again pushed Scritti Politti. It's a bit autobiographical. If it doesn't contain as much illuminating social context as that latter book, or such a sense of mission, or so many gargantuan personalities, that's a symptom of the subject rather than the book - a period of rock retreating from a sense of social purpose and mission into a kind of womblike interiority. Sometimes the spaces under examination feel monastic. J Mascis wasn't the least verbally articulate person on the scene.
Reading this I was frequently reminded of the rise of the mystery cult movement in the later Roman era. As people lost their political agency and hope for material change under the increasingly sclerotic and authoritarian Empire, the heart of culture moved from the public forums to hidden spaces under domestic dwellings - spaces of mysticism and personal withdrawal. Something similar seems to be happening here, but with more fuzzy guitars. I'm not sure what to do with that thought, except maybe retreat into a dark room and gaze at my shoes.
July 6, 2026
This book covers the underground (indie / rock) music scene of the mid 80s to the mid 90s, I was a regular Melody Maker reader around 1986-91 and Simon Reynolds was my favourite writer - impassioned and with sharp critical sense, which was often in line with my own taste (like me, he has no time for student disco faves like The Wonderstuff). As an older man looking back at the period, Reynolds maintains enthusiasm for this music and reflects on the circumstances of that period - high youth unemployment, the frustration with Thatcherism / Reaganism, the moribund mainstream chart music scene and his own life as a young music journalist in London. The music papers of the time (along with John Peel's late night show on Radio 1) were the only way to learn about new underground music in those pre-internet days and we relied on journalists like Reynolds to keep us up to date and find out what was worth looking out for in the record shop.
The style of this book is rather more measured than his late 80s writing, but his critical judgement is largely spot on (rightly, AR Kane are covered in a fair bit of detail), and though I don't share the enthusiasm for the "arsequake" bands, Spacemen 3 or Sonic Youth to quite the same extent, I appreciate where he is coming from. And Reynolds hints occasionally at the contemporaneous underground electronic music scene (acid house, techno etc) that emerged to largely eclipse "indie rock" as a creative arena
There are a few bands mentioned here who passed me by at the time (Hugo Largo!) - so the book is a useful resource from that point of view too. If I had a criticism, it's that it covers a huge amount of ground, so even though the book is over 400 pages long, it could have been longer - I'd have liked to see things like House of Love / Levitation or Thin White Rope covered.
The style of this book is rather more measured than his late 80s writing, but his critical judgement is largely spot on (rightly, AR Kane are covered in a fair bit of detail), and though I don't share the enthusiasm for the "arsequake" bands, Spacemen 3 or Sonic Youth to quite the same extent, I appreciate where he is coming from. And Reynolds hints occasionally at the contemporaneous underground electronic music scene (acid house, techno etc) that emerged to largely eclipse "indie rock" as a creative arena
There are a few bands mentioned here who passed me by at the time (Hugo Largo!) - so the book is a useful resource from that point of view too. If I had a criticism, it's that it covers a huge amount of ground, so even though the book is over 400 pages long, it could have been longer - I'd have liked to see things like House of Love / Levitation or Thin White Rope covered.
July 12, 2026
Reynolds' memoir of an era that saw dramatic progress in underground rock.
To start, some expectations need to set as to what exactly this book is. Those hoping for a Rip It Up-like take on individual genres or artists are going to be disappointed. But considering how much ink has been spilled over grunge and shoegaze, you should know the general beats of these genres by now.
What the book does is contextualize the rise of various artists and styles, how they fit with one another. The idea of the slacker is one that's all-encompassing, even if the term often pertains to specific bands: a consistent strain of extended adolescence and/or rejected adulthood runs through pretty much all the artists involved, whether it's Morrissey or the Butthole Surfers. Music as escapism from dreary reality and accepted notions of fame, along with how various styles interacted with one another.Grunge's dissolution and Britpop largely rejecting this notion brought this era to an end, even if some of the spirit lives on in other underground genres.
That said, while I think Reynolds largely does a great job at tying all this together, I can't help but feel like some parts would really benefit from a bit more. Sometimes it's a matter of giving a smaller artists more space than a bigger one (I knew going in that AR Kane was going to be written about more than Ride, but geez most of the latter is single sentence dismissals), other times it's a matter of not quite expanding on why certain bands matter (i.e., Royal Trux). Almost like the author is talking to those who are already in the know (and in agreement).
Overall, a very good look at the general attitude of the era.
To start, some expectations need to set as to what exactly this book is. Those hoping for a Rip It Up-like take on individual genres or artists are going to be disappointed. But considering how much ink has been spilled over grunge and shoegaze, you should know the general beats of these genres by now.
What the book does is contextualize the rise of various artists and styles, how they fit with one another. The idea of the slacker is one that's all-encompassing, even if the term often pertains to specific bands: a consistent strain of extended adolescence and/or rejected adulthood runs through pretty much all the artists involved, whether it's Morrissey or the Butthole Surfers. Music as escapism from dreary reality and accepted notions of fame, along with how various styles interacted with one another.Grunge's dissolution and Britpop largely rejecting this notion brought this era to an end, even if some of the spirit lives on in other underground genres.
That said, while I think Reynolds largely does a great job at tying all this together, I can't help but feel like some parts would really benefit from a bit more. Sometimes it's a matter of giving a smaller artists more space than a bigger one (I knew going in that AR Kane was going to be written about more than Ride, but geez most of the latter is single sentence dismissals), other times it's a matter of not quite expanding on why certain bands matter (i.e., Royal Trux). Almost like the author is talking to those who are already in the know (and in agreement).
Overall, a very good look at the general attitude of the era.
September 6, 2026
The "post whatever" period of alternative music finally receives an in-depth dissection from cultural critique Simon Reynolds. It's not a spiritual sequel to rip it up and start again, which may disappoint a few interested in a timeline that starts at the end of post-punk's didactic tenure. Instead, this book serves as a trip down memory lane with its loose timeline centered around the leitmotif of dream. Reynold's prose is as sharp as ever, and his connections to the milieus and awkward network of slacker's is heartfelt and never crosses over into sappy territory. The personal tone and controversial opinions on rock cannon drop this book to a four for me, the mythos and grandeur of loveless is all too real for me sorry. But I do agree with his overall opinion on the dialectical behavior of rock forms, overground v underground. I don't think any innovation has occurred in musical spaces post 1994 so a review contemporary movements and sounds would leave me unsatiated, but there is a part of me that views hyperpop and the experimental cannon of hip hop as original student usurp teacher events that are deserving of their own analysis. Anyways I recommend this book to anyone interested in a deeper dive of the lost generation.
August 30, 2026
This is an impressionistic, idiosyncratic, and quite opinionated survey of several (loosely connected) music scenes that popped out between the late 80s and early 90s in the UK and the US. It is also strongly autobiographical - which is fine by me; I like seeing how different bands inform the lives and moods of those who write about them. Don't expect a very deep treatment: most bands are discussed rather briefly (if you're looking for that, you can check i.e. Michael Azerrad's Our Band Could Be Your Live on pre-grunge US alternative rock, or Mark Yarm's Everybody Loves Our Town on grunge). So, if you're thinking this is Rip it Up and Start Again part 2 , well, that's not the case. This is more of a big-picture book, with much less detail, and it is great at that in my view. Just a couple of minor "buts": i) as a general complain about music writing, I find the use of metaphors and adjectives excessive; and ii) no mention to Yo La Tengo :(
August 16, 2026
I have never gone to the bookstore and bought a book as fast in my life as I did when I discovered Still in a Dream. An account of my favourite genres of music from Simon Reynolds, someone who ate, breathed, and slept in this era. It was so fascinating to see how so many of my favourite bands, including Cocteau Twins, The Jesus and Mary Chain, and My Bloody Valentine, could possibly be connected to bands such as The Stone Roses, Nirvana, and Alice in Chains.
Simon Reynold’s thesis of shoegaze being a dreamy form of escapism from politics as opposed to punk and rock’s outright urgency and anger is fascinating. It was fun to read the context behind my favourite bands as well as learn about new bands. Some sections interested me more than others (I am not really interested in the Visions of Acess bands) but I still thoroughly enjoyed!
Simon Reynold’s thesis of shoegaze being a dreamy form of escapism from politics as opposed to punk and rock’s outright urgency and anger is fascinating. It was fun to read the context behind my favourite bands as well as learn about new bands. Some sections interested me more than others (I am not really interested in the Visions of Acess bands) but I still thoroughly enjoyed!
July 6, 2026
Reynolds is a great writer. Many visceral, haptic descriptions of music that made me immediately put the book down and look up whatever song he was waxing lyrical about. This gets a bit cluttered toward the end; too many bands, too few pages. I loved hearing Reynolds discuss the critical 'battles' which took place within the independent music zine world (who did Melody Maker think was the future of music, and how did this show that NME's position was retrograde, old hat, soporific?). A lot of this reads like an impassioned plea for the value of criticism. It reminded me of how much I owe my aesthetic taste to those who write about art, who helped me see its value – it's beauty.
June 28, 2026
Rip it Up and Start Again is easily one of my favorite rock criticism books, so I was very excited for Reynolds’ exploration of the 80s-00’s. While Rip it Up felt like a feverish dive into Reynolds’ mixtapes, this one is much more reflective and personal. So many of the artists and albums are connected to the author’s experiences as a Melody Maker critic, which makes it feel more like reading his journals than listening to a mixtape. The range of bands covered here is wide and idiosyncratic: shoegaze, British indie, noise, grunge, post-rock…but this one doesn’t hit the same heights as Rip It up.
*my version included a bonus ‘zine with additional recommendations not included in the book!
*my version included a bonus ‘zine with additional recommendations not included in the book!
August 15, 2026
I read this in two days flat: that's how much I enjoyed it. Like 'Rip it Up' and 'Energy Flash', Reynolds gives you the big picture 'rise and fall’ narrative and zooms in on individual artist and albums to explore what makes them great/innovative/strange. The analysis of why Morrisey's lyrics so distinctive and evocative was particularly strong.
It is more personal than his other books, but without being self-indulgent. It ends with a rousing defence of music as a dream world, which will seem a bit odd if you've come to this book straight from Rip it Up.
Minor quibble: there isn't a single mention of Slint and 'Spiderland'. This is perhaps a reflection of how obscure they were in 1991, but given their influence on what would become post-rock, does seem a bit of a missed opportunity.
It is more personal than his other books, but without being self-indulgent. It ends with a rousing defence of music as a dream world, which will seem a bit odd if you've come to this book straight from Rip it Up.
Minor quibble: there isn't a single mention of Slint and 'Spiderland'. This is perhaps a reflection of how obscure they were in 1991, but given their influence on what would become post-rock, does seem a bit of a missed opportunity.
August 24, 2026
First, it’s Simon Reynolds—which means you’re instantly guaranteed forensic cultural criticism wrapped in razor-sharp, effortless prose. Second, his late-1980s personal memoirs land with uncanny precision, capturing the volatile, blissed-out haze of that transitional era right before indie rock calcified into stadium-ready posturing. But above all, Still in a Dream serves as the ultimate autopsy of guitar music after it’s ran its course: a brilliant, bittersweet chronicle of what happens when six-string romanticism finally hits its sonic end of the road and has nowhere left to go but pure noise.
August 24, 2026
Reynold's adjective soup reminds me of the way I used to write about music, and that infuriates me. He quite clearly cares about the music under discussion here and puts into words a lot of what I have already felt in an unexamined way about the music that came out of this particular moment in rock culture - I admire his passion. Don't fw The Smiths, yes it is because of Morrisey, and yet the chapter dedicated to him was quite fun to read about and contextualizes why it is people find him so magnetic
August 24, 2026
I have to admit shoegaze is a genre I'm not familiar with, despite the mass amount of local bands in that genre. As the decades went on, I found myself knowing a few of the bands on the list more than when I started. It was nice to get insight into the genre. I enjoyed the author's personal experience with the scene and it was nice to see it through the eyes of someone who had lived and loved the eras he was discussing.
July 1, 2026
Reynolds is one of the sharpest minds in music journalism, and like his other excellent books, this one is no disappointment. Taking a HUGE area of music to cover, he depicts his time writing for Melody Maker in the 80s / 90s and the emerging explosion in indie rock.
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