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Don't All Thank Me At Once
As the leader of Game Theory and The Loud Family, Scott Miller made the some of the greatest pop music you never heard. He was one of the quintessential cult heroes, with critical praise to spare and famous songwriters singing his praises; and an internet following when there barely was an internet. The cult only grew after his sudden death in 2013. So if he was that great, why didn't you hear of him? This book tells the story. It's also the story of the college and indie rock explosion of the '80s and '90s, where everything seemed possible but some of the flagship artists still managed to fall through the cracks. Included here are revealing interviews with nearly every member of his bands, and renowned collaborators like producer Mitch Easter, Posies member Ken Stringfellow and songwriter Aimee Mann. Rare interviews attest to Miller's unique sensibility and sense of humor. Though his story took a tragic turn, this book celebrates a fascinating body of work and the complex individual who created it.
- GenresMusicBiographyNonfiction
180 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2015
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
June 7, 2025
Scott Miller is my favorite songwriter of the years 1986-2000, an approachable, idiosyncratic artist making album after album of brilliant pop music that drew fewer and fewer listeners. Fans, very much including me, are still reeling from his April 2013 suicide. Brett Milano's slim but authoritative critical biography—based on interviews with members of Miller's bands, producers, collaborators, and family as well as the author's evaluation of tracks and albums—sometimes reads like liner notes; there's no question that the best readers of Don't All Thank Me at Once are those already familiar with the Game Theory and Loud Family catalog. Indeed, many will read the book as an adjunct to Miller's literate musings on the Loud Family website and in his book Music: What Happened?
Milano makes a strong (and extremely readable) case for Miller's genius as well as for his pending rediscovery as a should-have-been-famous cult figure; he was fascinating both on record and in person (I got to meet him half a dozen times at Loud Family shows and a video shoot), and I really appreciate the backstory behind his bands' frequent personnel changes as well as his personal relationships. True, the prose is often workmanlike, knowledgeable fans may find the book a bit skimpy, with no mention (much less discussion) of many key recordings, and it's easy to disagree with many of Milano's judgments. But hey, a year ago none of us expected to ever read an actual book about Scott Miller, much less one by a top rock critic. So I can't be anything but grateful.
Milano makes a strong (and extremely readable) case for Miller's genius as well as for his pending rediscovery as a should-have-been-famous cult figure; he was fascinating both on record and in person (I got to meet him half a dozen times at Loud Family shows and a video shoot), and I really appreciate the backstory behind his bands' frequent personnel changes as well as his personal relationships. True, the prose is often workmanlike, knowledgeable fans may find the book a bit skimpy, with no mention (much less discussion) of many key recordings, and it's easy to disagree with many of Milano's judgments. But hey, a year ago none of us expected to ever read an actual book about Scott Miller, much less one by a top rock critic. So I can't be anything but grateful.
January 5, 2016
This is a very well sourced bio of the frontman for Game Theory and The Loud Family. I was a fan of Game Theory's from the time I heard their first two EPs at my college radio station. I'm sure I read a few interviews or profiles of the band, as I knew Scott Miller was a computer programmer and super smart. Those facts are still quite true, but now I have a much larger understanding.
In some respects, Miller represented his fan base: a complicated soul who kept it all inside, pouring his feelings out in music. However, it wasn't coded messages on mix tapes, but somewhat cryptic lyrics in his brilliant art pop songs. Just reading how his bandmates and friends felt about him is instructive. Meanwhile, Milano's critical assessments of the albums reminded me of just how special the music was.
If you were a fan of either (or both) of Miller's bands, this is a very worthwhile read.
In some respects, Miller represented his fan base: a complicated soul who kept it all inside, pouring his feelings out in music. However, it wasn't coded messages on mix tapes, but somewhat cryptic lyrics in his brilliant art pop songs. Just reading how his bandmates and friends felt about him is instructive. Meanwhile, Milano's critical assessments of the albums reminded me of just how special the music was.
If you were a fan of either (or both) of Miller's bands, this is a very worthwhile read.
September 16, 2016
This may be Brett Milano's best book: And it's about a great subject that requires a range that very few writers can muster.
Don't All Thank Me At Once is unified, being about one person -- Scott Miller, the enigmatic boy then man genius of the bands Game Theory and the Loud Family -- and takes us from the artist's earliest days, though incredible bursts of creativity and performance, to his sad death by suicide. If you don't know about Miller but like intelligent rock, pick up Game Theory's "The Big Shot Chronicles" and the Loud Family's "Plants and Birds and Rocks and Things," listen to them, and come back.
There. See what I mean? Great stuff. Makes you wonder how it all happened, doesn't it?
The book brings together all of Milano's skills: It's a work of history (as in his book on Boston rock, The Sound of Our Town) and a book of musical nerdism (like his book on record collectors, Vinyl Junkies). But perhaps most importantly, Milano takes advantage of his years of experience as a reporter, and does the spade work to find and read old record and concert reviews, and interview just about everyone who knew Scott, from all of his musical collaborators, to his biggest fans, such as Aimee Mann. The book is as loaded with facts as it is by judgement.
The book also has something of a thesis, in that edgy rock really changed in the early 90s:
Well, Miller didn't fit in. He was really too true to the 80s explosion of edginess. A deep irony is that there were a lot of college/indie/alternative rock fans who weren't that into Sugar, Belly, Cracker, etc., but still carried a torch for what Miller was trying to do: Highly articulate and teasing pop experiments that still thrilled listeners and audiences with great songs.
There is one awkward gap in the book that I hesitate to bring up, but it's this. Milano respectfully draws the curtain on the details of Miller's suicide. I can just hear Milano and readers of this review say that it's icky and invasive to go there, but:
I get that, but we have just lost too many to middle-aged suicide. I know this is morbid, but probing hard but gracefully into the personal episodes of isolation and withdrawal is an important part of the story that we need to learn from. It's an especially big deal for Miller, who seemingly had attained some personal happiness with his wife and two daughters, and a respectable career as a software development in the Bay area. Perhaps will probably never understand why Miller did away with himself, but anything we can do to make more clear the hidden signs -- to understand the possibility of bad guidance from doctors, and the tell-tale signs that a suicide plan is taking place -- would be a help to the living, and perhaps to those who are on the edge.
Because there's so much to celebrate in Miller's work, this is a quibble for the book, but, still . . . can we learn something from this horrible event?
Don't All Thank Me At Once is unified, being about one person -- Scott Miller, the enigmatic boy then man genius of the bands Game Theory and the Loud Family -- and takes us from the artist's earliest days, though incredible bursts of creativity and performance, to his sad death by suicide. If you don't know about Miller but like intelligent rock, pick up Game Theory's "The Big Shot Chronicles" and the Loud Family's "Plants and Birds and Rocks and Things," listen to them, and come back.
There. See what I mean? Great stuff. Makes you wonder how it all happened, doesn't it?
The book brings together all of Milano's skills: It's a work of history (as in his book on Boston rock, The Sound of Our Town) and a book of musical nerdism (like his book on record collectors, Vinyl Junkies). But perhaps most importantly, Milano takes advantage of his years of experience as a reporter, and does the spade work to find and read old record and concert reviews, and interview just about everyone who knew Scott, from all of his musical collaborators, to his biggest fans, such as Aimee Mann. The book is as loaded with facts as it is by judgement.
The book also has something of a thesis, in that edgy rock really changed in the early 90s:
[After Nirvana,] How an artist like Scott miller fit into this equation [of fresh attention to alternative rock] was anybody's guess. An impressive number of his fellow '80s cult heroes were just carving out long-term careers, doing something just a touch more streamlined than before: Bob Mould (ex-Hüsker Du) with Sugar, Tanya Donnelly (ex-Throwing Muses) with Belly, David Lowery (ex-Camper Van Beethoven) with Cracker, Paul Westerberg (ex-Replacements) with an all-pro solo band, R.E.M. with, well, R.E.M. All were having their greatest commercial success in the early '90s. The Loud Family were on the same track, putting Game Theory idiosyncrasies into a shinier and more accessible package. (p. 101)
Well, Miller didn't fit in. He was really too true to the 80s explosion of edginess. A deep irony is that there were a lot of college/indie/alternative rock fans who weren't that into Sugar, Belly, Cracker, etc., but still carried a torch for what Miller was trying to do: Highly articulate and teasing pop experiments that still thrilled listeners and audiences with great songs.
There is one awkward gap in the book that I hesitate to bring up, but it's this. Milano respectfully draws the curtain on the details of Miller's suicide. I can just hear Milano and readers of this review say that it's icky and invasive to go there, but:
I get that, but we have just lost too many to middle-aged suicide. I know this is morbid, but probing hard but gracefully into the personal episodes of isolation and withdrawal is an important part of the story that we need to learn from. It's an especially big deal for Miller, who seemingly had attained some personal happiness with his wife and two daughters, and a respectable career as a software development in the Bay area. Perhaps will probably never understand why Miller did away with himself, but anything we can do to make more clear the hidden signs -- to understand the possibility of bad guidance from doctors, and the tell-tale signs that a suicide plan is taking place -- would be a help to the living, and perhaps to those who are on the edge.
Because there's so much to celebrate in Miller's work, this is a quibble for the book, but, still . . . can we learn something from this horrible event?
November 6, 2015
Heartbreaking story of the life and career of Scott Warren Miller, one of the greatest songwriters and musicians of his generation. This book gives a satisfying answer to the question, "If he was so good, why didn't you ever hear of him?"
December 30, 2015
Thoughtful and thorough, tender and affectionate portrayal of Scott Miller, the songwriter of Game Theory and the Loud Family. Miller's music meant a lot to me; I suspect that anyone reading this book is a fan and so is the author, who makes no bones about his deep appreciation for Miller as both a songwriter and a person. I've written a lot in other fora about Miller's music and its impacts on me, and for that reason alone it's gratifying to see the book make its way to a reading public - although the circumstances could hardly be sadder, due to Miller's 2013 suicide.
As a decades-long music journalist who covered Miller's music from the earliest days (and panned the early records), and developed a long-term friendship and collegial relationship, Milano is in an ideal position to discuss the Miller's musical choices and collaborations - like producer Mitch Easter, his many bandmembers over the years. He does well, and sensitively, covering Miller's interlocked musical and romantic life (he was in long term relationships with two musical partners). There is some illuminating discussion - exegesis even - about the dense cultural references that litter Miller's lyrics. All of that is for the good - especially in the ebbs and flows of
Miller's discography. Milano also treats Miller's widow and survivors with respect, although demurring on the most traumatic final pieces of Miller's life. Where the book misses a bit is in its lack of attention to the community of fans and admirers that coalesced around Miller's bands - As more than one fan has noted, Miller's fanbase was a small one, but an intense community developed with him at its core. Lifelong friendships and more than one marriage grew from the fanbase, as did a remarkable assemblage of musical collaborations. Discussing the Loud Family without discussing the Loudfans (the band's decade-long email list that preceded Facebook groups) omits one of Miller's most meaningful long-term, non-musical contributions.
As a decades-long music journalist who covered Miller's music from the earliest days (and panned the early records), and developed a long-term friendship and collegial relationship, Milano is in an ideal position to discuss the Miller's musical choices and collaborations - like producer Mitch Easter, his many bandmembers over the years. He does well, and sensitively, covering Miller's interlocked musical and romantic life (he was in long term relationships with two musical partners). There is some illuminating discussion - exegesis even - about the dense cultural references that litter Miller's lyrics. All of that is for the good - especially in the ebbs and flows of
Miller's discography. Milano also treats Miller's widow and survivors with respect, although demurring on the most traumatic final pieces of Miller's life. Where the book misses a bit is in its lack of attention to the community of fans and admirers that coalesced around Miller's bands - As more than one fan has noted, Miller's fanbase was a small one, but an intense community developed with him at its core. Lifelong friendships and more than one marriage grew from the fanbase, as did a remarkable assemblage of musical collaborations. Discussing the Loud Family without discussing the Loudfans (the band's decade-long email list that preceded Facebook groups) omits one of Miller's most meaningful long-term, non-musical contributions.
May 7, 2017
Given that I'd never heard Scott Miller's music before reading this, combined with the huge stack of music bios I have waiting to be read, it took a leap of faith plus trust in the advice of some more-savvy friends to convince me to give this book a shot. And man, am I glad I followed my gut. This was one of the most enjoyable music-related books I've ever read. It wasn't perfect, and much as he tried, Milano couldn't help but gush at points. But it was definitely passionate, which was fitting considering the topic. He really cared about this guy, and getting his story right, and it showed. A bit bumpy in the beginning, it quickly smoothed out, and I found myself listening to the albums one by one as he addressed them, as well as digging up old videos on Spotify, wishing there were more (especially any of Alternate Learning). By the time I got to the Loud Family years, I was already considering myself a fan, grateful I'd made this discovery, though sad that, clued in as I like to think I am about music, I'd never known Scott's music in his lifetime. I'd loved to have seen him perform. One slight disappointment was that the only connection I had to Scott—that he'd produced an album by a friend of a friend's band while I was in college—got all of one sentence in the book. And even then, it didn't seem to make sense, since Scott was far from famous at that point and was struggling just to get his own music heard. But that's a minor complaint compared to how much I enjoyed the book overall. The ending was...well, a downer, and knowing it was coming, I really slowed down, not wanting it to come, or for the book to end. But even that was treated with dignity, and handled well. I will forever be a fan of Scott's music, fortunate enough to just be discovering it, and I owe it all to this book. Highly recommended.
August 24, 2016
Usually music bios are about larger-than-life figures. Scott Miller seemed regular-sized, recognizable, and familiar. He seemed like an awful lot of talented people that I've known, which made reading the book even more heartbreaking. Of course, the things about Scott Miller that were larger than life were the ideas and lyrics and musical arrangements in his head, and Milano's book really celebrated that.
April 20, 2019
Not especially insightful, well-written or compelling, but still an important document about a great songwriter. There could certainly be a better book about Scott Miller, but I'm glad we have this one.
December 20, 2015
The story of the lead singer/song writer from Game Theory and The Loud Family. The only book telling the whole story of this great man's career. A must read. Must listen too music too.
Read
January 16, 2016Great book-- provides the closure we needed after the unexpected loss of Scott Miller in 2013.
March 23, 2016
I'm a huge Scott Miller fan, so I was thrilled to read this book. Milano does a great job, without dwelling on any of the sensationalism that he could have brought to the story.
May 30, 2016
Wow. Great book. It was easy to empathize with Scott Miller and great to learn about him finally. Could hardly put it down. The book moved me like Miller's music.
February 5, 2021
Scott Miller is still not well known, but he was a brilliant songwriter and the leader of the bands Game Theory and The Loud Family. He was a musical genius in the mold of Alex Chilton (who at least got to bask in the glow of minor celebrity at the end of his life). Miller’s records did not sell (the top Game Theory LP topped out at about 20K copies at the time) and he eventually grew discouraged to the point where people thought he had stopped making music. His tragic suicide in 2013 robbed his fans of what might have come next. This book faithfully outlines his personal and musical ups and downs in a very readable and entertaining manner. Wow, to have been around in Davis, CA in the early 80’s to witness the rise of bands like The Three O’Clock, True West, The Dream Syndicate, Game Theory, and Thin White Rope! I had no idea so much of the so called “Paisley Underground” was rooted there! Scott’s reputation continues to grow as one of the best songwriters of our generation, and I just wish he’d stuck around to bask in the accolades!
March 21, 2017
This novelette is the personification of a broadened and somewhat bolstered ten year run of an existing column entitled ASK SCOTT.
March 14, 2021
Heartbreaking and well-researched.
January 29, 2026
There will never be another Scott Miller. There has been a slew of musicians with indecipherable, psychedelic lyricism. There are few artists who come to mind that share Scott's "miserable whine". There have been bands that were too lyrically literate for their own good. And there have been plenty of musicians who are extraordinarily talented yet never received the attention they deserved.
But none of those musicians were Scott Miller. I don't think I could name any artist who could match Miller's work in Game Theory or The Loud Family. "24", "Erica's Word", and "The Come On" are undeniably fantastic pop songs that knocked me sideways upon first listen. Even when Scott was covering other people's material - see their version "Couldn't I Just Tell You" - they still manage to breath new life into it. But to me, their opus is their 1993 release, Plants and Birds and Rocks and Things. With its title lifted from a verse from "A Horse With No Name", The Loud Family's debut record seems like the lamest thing imaginable - and to be honest - I was let down upon my first listen. I didn't understand I was listening to one of the greatest power pop recordings of all time. A similar mistake I made when first listening to Adam Schmitt's overlooked sophomore album Illiterature, which I now fucking adore. I was younger and dumber, but I've learned from my mistakes.
Largely compiled from old and newly conducted interviews, "Don't All Thank Me At Once" shines much brighter when Milano affixes his own voice and experiences into the fray. Early on, Milano details an awards ceremony in 1984 which saw Game Theory crowned as the "best undiscovered talent of the year", only to be outright ignored by the crowd before them; too busy laughing at a gag performed by the Red Hot Chili Peppers before they're called to the stage. Milano describes it as "lovingly-crafted songwriting is drowned out in the public ears by big rock bluster. Such would be the story for Scott Miller's musical career." A sentence that is so harsh and true altogether it should be illegal.
I felt for Scott as he watched his band crumble before him while promoting "Two Steps from the Middle Ages". I felt for him even more when it becomes clearer and clearer overtime how much his lack of success is getting to him. Mitch Easter said he was vicariously getting his feelings hurt over the lack of recognition for Miller, and dammit my feelings were getting vicariously hurt too! By the book's bitter end, I found myself on the verge of tears in my college's library.
But that isn't to say Milano's book is all doom and gloom. Not only was I unable to put the book down after starting it, I laughed countless times - reading past bandmates and friends gleefully reminisce on their time with Scott is practically infectious. Getting to understand the true meaning of several of Scott's songs - particularly "Inverness" and "Regenisraen" - was fascinating. I beamed with jealousy upon learning that a bunch of college kids circa 1978 got to see (debatably)-prime XTC and Elvis Costello entirely for free. Also, any book that namedrops The Jayhawks and Crash Into June is cool with me.
Most importantly, my appreciation for Miller's music grew far more than it ever could have had this book not existed.
By Game Theory's dissolution in the late 1980s, their entire catalogue went out of print; and it stayed out of print for nearly three decades until they were re-released by Omnivore Recordings in 2014 - one year after Scott's passing. Today, in a cruel twist of fate, this book, Scott's story, the recollection of all the lives he's touched, is now out of print.
Perhaps there is a copy hidden in a local library or secondhand bookstore. Maybe another copy will spring up on eBay or Amazon. But for now, Miller's story is again locked away for most of the world to bare witness.
"The world is one big, triumphant party except for oneself". Too right, Scott.
But none of those musicians were Scott Miller. I don't think I could name any artist who could match Miller's work in Game Theory or The Loud Family. "24", "Erica's Word", and "The Come On" are undeniably fantastic pop songs that knocked me sideways upon first listen. Even when Scott was covering other people's material - see their version "Couldn't I Just Tell You" - they still manage to breath new life into it. But to me, their opus is their 1993 release, Plants and Birds and Rocks and Things. With its title lifted from a verse from "A Horse With No Name", The Loud Family's debut record seems like the lamest thing imaginable - and to be honest - I was let down upon my first listen. I didn't understand I was listening to one of the greatest power pop recordings of all time. A similar mistake I made when first listening to Adam Schmitt's overlooked sophomore album Illiterature, which I now fucking adore. I was younger and dumber, but I've learned from my mistakes.
Largely compiled from old and newly conducted interviews, "Don't All Thank Me At Once" shines much brighter when Milano affixes his own voice and experiences into the fray. Early on, Milano details an awards ceremony in 1984 which saw Game Theory crowned as the "best undiscovered talent of the year", only to be outright ignored by the crowd before them; too busy laughing at a gag performed by the Red Hot Chili Peppers before they're called to the stage. Milano describes it as "lovingly-crafted songwriting is drowned out in the public ears by big rock bluster. Such would be the story for Scott Miller's musical career." A sentence that is so harsh and true altogether it should be illegal.
I felt for Scott as he watched his band crumble before him while promoting "Two Steps from the Middle Ages". I felt for him even more when it becomes clearer and clearer overtime how much his lack of success is getting to him. Mitch Easter said he was vicariously getting his feelings hurt over the lack of recognition for Miller, and dammit my feelings were getting vicariously hurt too! By the book's bitter end, I found myself on the verge of tears in my college's library.
But that isn't to say Milano's book is all doom and gloom. Not only was I unable to put the book down after starting it, I laughed countless times - reading past bandmates and friends gleefully reminisce on their time with Scott is practically infectious. Getting to understand the true meaning of several of Scott's songs - particularly "Inverness" and "Regenisraen" - was fascinating. I beamed with jealousy upon learning that a bunch of college kids circa 1978 got to see (debatably)-prime XTC and Elvis Costello entirely for free. Also, any book that namedrops The Jayhawks and Crash Into June is cool with me.
Most importantly, my appreciation for Miller's music grew far more than it ever could have had this book not existed.
By Game Theory's dissolution in the late 1980s, their entire catalogue went out of print; and it stayed out of print for nearly three decades until they were re-released by Omnivore Recordings in 2014 - one year after Scott's passing. Today, in a cruel twist of fate, this book, Scott's story, the recollection of all the lives he's touched, is now out of print.
Perhaps there is a copy hidden in a local library or secondhand bookstore. Maybe another copy will spring up on eBay or Amazon. But for now, Miller's story is again locked away for most of the world to bare witness.
"The world is one big, triumphant party except for oneself". Too right, Scott.
February 13, 2017
I know little of Scott Miller, but this book sent me searching for the many musical references and steeped me in a period of music history of which I also happened to be a participant but was blissfully ignorant. It was both an education and an appreciation of one life that meant something, though not in the sense of mass fame and adoration. Reading the book had the effect of both recognizing one particular genius and in shining a light on a whole constellation of creative individuals. The book looks thoroughly at Miller's creative life creating a worthwhile tribute. It is quite an achievement. Milano is a colorful writer and a skilled rock journalist with encyclopedic knowledge. I had to YouTube and Spotify as I went along. It is a bittersweet read with the effect of recognizing, in the larger picture, how many creative lives and artists of originality and great talent come and go unheralded.
My published review of the book is here:
http://artsfuse.org/149368/fuse-book-...
My published review of the book is here:
http://artsfuse.org/149368/fuse-book-...
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