Twilight of the Gods: A Journey to the End of Classic Rock

by Steven Hyden

The author of the critically acclaimed Your Favorite Band is Killing Me offers an eye-opening and frank assessment of the state of classic rock, assessing its past and future, the impact it has had, and what its loss would mean to an industry, a culture, and a way of life.

Since the late 1960s, a legendary cadre of artists—including the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen, Fleetwood Mac, the Eagles, Black Sabbath, and the Who—has revolutionized popular culture and the sounds of our lives. While their songs still get airtime and some of these bands continue to tour, its idols are leaving the stage permanently. Can classic rock remain relevant as these legends die off, or will this major musical subculture fade away as many have before, Steven Hyden asks.

In this mix of personal memoir, criticism, and journalism, Hyden stands witness as classic rock reaches the precipice. Traveling to the eclectic places where geriatric rockers are still making music, he talks to the artists and fans who have aged with them, explores the ways that classic rock has changed the culture, investigates the rise and fall of classic rock radio, and turns to live bootlegs, tell-all rock biographies, and even the liner notes of rock’s greatest masterpieces to tell the story of what this music meant, and how it will be remembered, for fans like himself.

Twilight of the Gods is also Hyden’s story. Celebrating his love of this incredible music that has taken him from adolescence to fatherhood, he ponders two essential questions: Is it time to give up on his childhood heroes, or can this music teach him about growing old with his hopes and dreams intact? And what can we all learn from rock gods and their music—are they ephemeral or eternal?

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, History, Pop Culture, Essays, Memoir, Cultural

320 pages, Hardcover

First published May 8, 2018

Reviews

[Julie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Twilight of the Gods by Steven Hyden is a 2018 Dey Street Books publication.

Sex, Drugs, and Rock -n- Roll …

This is yet another of a spate of recently released books, lamenting the death of rock music, seeming to finally admit and accept, that the rock icons still living are the last of a dying breed- no pun intended. In the past couple of years, we have lost some heavy hitters, which has left us to face the sobering reality that once those huge icons like Paul McCartney, The Stones, and Bob Dylan are gone- the last vestiges of the rock star mythology will die with them.

This book doesn’t delve into the music so much, but is more of an examination of who, why and how rock stars built a legendary, creative, mythos that served to protect the image and longevity of the rock industry, especially during the sixties and seventies.

The author confesses straight up that he did not, in fact, grow up during the era that produced the epic music we refer to now as ‘Classic Rock.’. He studied it, admired it, respected it, read books about it, and maybe even obsessed over it like people my age did in rock music’s prime.

But, my son, and my husband, have watched every documentary, every fictionalized movie, tons of history channel programs and read countless books about world war two. This may make them feel like experts or like an aficionado on the subject, but nothing they can learn from doing all that can match the experience of being there, living during that time period, or serving in the armed forces.

This is often the way I felt while reading this book. I was there, I grew up to 'classic' rock, and some of the author’s philosophies, conjectures, analyzations, presumptions and opinions contrasted sharply with my memories and opinions.

Although presented with an air of humor, there were a couple of occasions when I felt my face go hot with indignation and could literally feel my blood pressure spike. In some places, where my memory conflicted with the author’s assessment, I was able to hop on over to YouTube for a quick refresher. Bob didn’t look discomfited to me during ‘My Back Pages’ at ‘Bob Fest”. I don’t know if David Bowie ever had a healthy glow about him, always looking gaunt and near starvation, but so much of that was makeup, and part of David’s genius at giving people false impressions.

The author tries a bit too hard to add a dose of humor, which fell flat on several occasions, but he did manage to coax a smile from me here and there, reminding me not to take everything so seriously, to lighten up and enjoy the trip down memory lane.

The author did make some valid points I could only have conceded to in hindsight, such the success and popularity of bands like Styx, Journey and Foreigner- bands I LOVED back in high school- and still listen to them today, on occasion.

So, what were some things that helped create the rock star myth?

Neil Young's performing at the Band’s farewell show- ‘The Last Waltz’ - with a rock of cocaine stuffed up his nose, the legendary creation and death of Ziggy Stardust, the fascination with ‘Mr. Crowley’, the destruction of motel rooms, various sordid tales involving groupies, epic and copious drug and alcohol use and abuse, and the travails of life on the road.

But, of course, it wasn’t all just creativity, acting, performances, and talent that propelled some into the international spotlight. Some money exchanging hands, some deliberate promotions of an album, while ignoring equally talented groups or music, gave a few mediocre bands a big push forward. You didn’t think this was a fairy tale did you? Of course, the rock industry, DJ’s, radio, and music studios were corrupt, which is a side the author also briefly touches on, but it is not exactly news to many people, at this point.

One thing that really stands out like a sore thumb, especially in hindsight, is how racist and misogynist classic rock is. Rock didn’t exactly start off that way- if you’ll recall- Little Richard and Chuck Berry- in the fifties were listed as rock stars- but this was not necessarily the case with 'Classic' Rock of the seventies, in particular. It was all rock music in one form or another, but it seems anyone who was not a white male was listed in some other category or genre. Women, with a few notable exceptions, were not considered ‘real rock’.

Some chapters address the occasion when even the zenith of rock stars made bad albums, but they might be so bad they are still good- and how rock music has played a role in politics and spirituality, and other heavy subjects, such as life and death.

At the end of the day, people have been claiming rock was dead, practically since the phrase was first coined, but it has managed to pull itself up from the ashes time and time again to prove the critics wrong. But, as for me, this time I think it might finally be time to wave the white flag and surrender- not the music, mind you, but the mythos surrounding the rock star.

As long as the music lives on, as long as we still have living proof of the influence of the music and the artist, the magic can still be conjured up. It might continue on for a long time after our rock heroes are all gone, at least while there are people like Steven out there who are working to keep the myths and the legends alive in our minds and hearts, even if, like gossip, it's hard to recognize it once it circles back around to you.

But, as time passes, for those of us who were a part of classic rock before it was considered ‘Classic, it’s hard to capture its essence, to bottle it, and release to future generations. It somehow gets lost in translation, is not completely understood, and will sadly continue to lose its power and strength. When that song streams on your device, if it doesn’t conjure up a memory, it doesn’t bring back a feeling or create an aura around events or reignite a passion or atmosphere for you, then you can’t really ‘get’ it- not unless you lived through it- unless you were there. And man, does that make me sound old! How depressing.

Rock music is still around, it still has an audience, and will for a long time to come, but it has been knocked off its pedestal, is humbled, and forced to compete in a way it never has before. But, as it has time and time and time again, it could rise up, could once again capture the public’s imagination, set the standards for fashions, opinions, and attitudes, but I don’t know that it will ever have the same power and influence of the music and rock stars that encapsulated ‘Classic Rock’.

While this book has been praised and critically acclaimed by some, for me, this was almost a bittersweet journey. The author obviously loves his subject, and considers himself an authority on it, but I almost felt as though my memories were the victim of a retelling of events, a skewed view of my personal experiences, told with an air of flippancy, that reduced the intensity of the very atmosphere the author is trying to explain to the reader.

One part of me enjoyed seeing events from the viewpoint of someone who, although they are in awe of the classic rock era, is able to analyze it with a more critical eye. But, on the other hand, I feel almost offended, searching for my lost sense of humor, struggling to laugh at myself. So, like the icons that are slowly fizzling away from the public’s consciousness, I am left with the frank realization that my time and place has passed, and is fizzling right along with them.

The author intended this book to be fun, a sort of fan- boy homage, an ode to the rock star, and he meant well, I’m sure. If you look at it from the right angle, it is informative, and even thought provoking, and certainly has its moments of entertainment and nostalgia.

[Scott · Rating 2 out of 5]

2.5 stars

"For as long as I can remember, classic rock has been there for me. Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, the Beatles, the Stones, Springsteen, Neil Young, the Who, Black Sabbath, AC/DC, David Bowie - the fixtures of my youth. But like all precious minerals, classic rock is a finite resource. One day, it will disappear." -- the author, on page 3

Author Hyden is only a few years younger than me, and what we sort of have in common is the way we both gravitated towards that music genre known as 'classic rock.' Cassettes tapes - but soon to be replaced by compact discs - purchased at local music stores and/or listening to FM radio stations (my usual spot 'on the dial' was either 93.3 WMMR or the dearly-departed 94-WYSP, both out of Philadelphia) circa the late 80's / early 90's. But what he attempts in Twilight of the Gods is NOT a straightforward history lesson but rather approximately twenty op-ed essays often (but not always) focusing on a specific group. This turned out to be an interesting book . . . in terms of my dueling love and hate for it. For every moment or section where the author truly nailed it in terms of a funny or well-crafted observation there were times where my patience became thinner than Bowie's frame in the mid-70's. Seriously, I could construct a potentially lethal drinking game out of the number of times the author wields the phrase 'white male' in a some negative or apologetic way, and as a result paramedics would be rushing my comatose body to the local trauma center. I suppose I was hoping for something both fun and thought-provoking like Chuck Klosterman's superior Fargo Rock City (essays chronicling his love of hair band heavy metal), but Twilight of the Gods too often veered into the author pointing out or seeming to feel sorry for the racial make-up of the groups plus repeated-to-the-point-of-hilarity mentions of his own racial identity. Chapters on Phish and Prince, while both well-written (I actually really liked the installment on 'His Royal Badness' and his unique combination of a home & office) also seemed a little superfluous to the classic rock thrust of the narrative.

[Emily · Rating 3 out of 5]

I know literally nothing about classic rock - I learned about Altamont by reading this book - but Steven Hyden's Theory of the Album is the new religion of my household, so I figured I would dive in. Steven Hyden's Theory of the Album is this: YouTube and Napster demystified music and broke it down into single tracks, rendering albums obsolete. But listening to an album, instead of breaking an album down into tracks, is a wholly different experience, and "the best albums deliver something you never knew you wanted." Or something. Cue us listening to all of Tom Petty's discography, in order, and calculating how many of the songs are about cocaine.

Anyway, this collection of essays is funny and sharp, even if I can't speak to its insights. Steven Hyden ranges from defining classic rock itself (starts with Sgt. Pepper, ends with Nine Inch Nails' The Fragile) to ranking the all-time important moments in live rock history (Altamont makes this list) to discussing if classic rock is truly near its end (yes, and the groundwork is laid for a new era, with holograms and pay-per-view tribute concerts). But the writing is just really funny and self-aware, which is why I liked it so much:

It's been argued that the biggest beneficiary of Springsteen's wilderness period in the nineties was Garth Brooks. Music critics had to come up with something to account for how a mediocre potato-faced white man with a weakness for black hats, tight Wranglers, and multicolored shirts became the decade's bestselling artist, eventually shipping more than 160 million units worldwide. Being a music critic in the nineties was like being a scientist from Loch Ness who specializes in large aquatic monsters. You had one job, and that was to explain the unexplainable dominance of Garth.

Because this collection also functions as a memoir, of sorts, there's a focus on how Hyden grew up an acolyte of classic rock and how its mythological figures have fared over the years. Some of that is poignant, as when he goes over the many ups and downs of Springsteen, and other parts of it are hard to reconcile. It's particularly weird to read about the terrible ways that these bands treated their groupies and realize that's part of the mythology that fans are supposed to revere. There are a couple moments in the book where Hyden explicitly acknowledges that "classic rock" is full of white men because of both classification (who gets to be rock at all) and because the gates for entry are manned by white men, but comparatively this gets short shrift to other topics. He's better at mediating between generations:

Nobody seems capable of judging music purely on its own merits—accumulated historical resentments always get in the way. I'm sure you know the drill: The generation in power asserts its preferences, which inevitably derive from a period when those people were between the ages of sixteen and twenty-four. Eventually, those people are pushed aside by a younger generation that has grown up resenting the generation in power and reflexively believing that what those people like must be overrated.

I thought about Steven Hyden when I was at a wedding a few weeks ago: the DJ started playing "Brown Sugar" and the bride's uncles stormed the dance floor. It was an amazing generational moment. I also thought about my dad. I am an avid listener of Austin's classic rock station, The Bat 105.3, which he also listens to. Me: "Do you think classic rock spans from The Beatles to the Nine Inch Nails? Does ZZ Top count as classic rock?" My dad: "I've never thought about it. I just like The Bat because it sounds like the soundtrack of the Austin High class of '79."

So, is classic rock dead? Probably. But Hyden makes sure to say:

When people say "rock is dead," they're really making a statement about themselves—they're saying, "This thing that once mattered to me is now dead to me." The flip side is that every year there is a new group of teenagers for whom the world is being created just as they're discovering it for the first time.

The teens will save us all, I guess. I personally look forward to hearing Britney on oldies radio.

[James Hold · Rating 1 out of 5]

TWILIGHT OF THE GODS by Steven Hyden, 2018, A Journey to the End of Classic Rock --- What a load of rubbish! Once again, a deceptively titled book implying one thing but delivering something else. Frankly, if you want to know about the end of rock music, it can be summed up in two words: Stevie Nicks. Instead of well-researched history, we get a personal memoir by a guy who can't write and has no idea what he's writing about. Honestly, page 34: Classic Rock Begins with Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. That sentence alone disqualifies him from writing about music of any sort. I don't know who he paid off to get all those glowing reviews on the back cover but the man and the book are a fraud. He discovered rock after it was already dying and has no experience of the original bands, only groups with two or three original members and the rest are hired help. Sorry, but I'm strict about my rock and roll. To me it's something you live thru, as it happens, as you grow up, and if you weren't born until the late 70s then you've no idea what a visceral experience it was. Still, it's okay. That's not my beef. But I'm tired of these books carrying a title that suckers you into buying them and they turn out to nothing at all as to what the title implies.

Negative 5 stars.

[Dave · Rating 5 out of 5]

Twilight of the Gods is an awesome read from cover to cover. Definitely enjoyed pretty much every page and will read it again down the road. This book is an ode to the art for, known as classic rock and a must read for anyone who grew up before the advent of Napster and Spotify changed the music world. Hyden draws the period from Sgt. Pepper to now as the classic rock period and sees that era changing because people now make playlists and don't buy albums, which used to occupy a hallowed place in our apartment living rooms. You'd check out someone's record collection when you visited or dated them to see what cool stuff they had or what crass commercial crap they were sporting. Music is becoming less categorized, less divided. And, the old rock arena dinosaurs are dying off. And, their latest concerts are possibly their last with a lineup of young substitutes and nephews replacing former band members.

But what's fun about this book - which is just a blast to read - is all the discussions about Led Zeppelin vs. Floyd. About the big albums and he endless Rolling Stones lists. Chapters delve into The Rolling Stones, the Doors, Black Sabbath, Phish, Prince, the commercial success of corporate rock (REO and Chicago and Styx), etc, etc.

Thanks to Harper Collins for providing a copy for review.

[Ken · Rating 3 out of 5]

Enjoyable, but didn’t hit as close to home as his first one.

I’m always glad when someone a lot smarter than me cares a lot more about something I like and chooses to write about it. It’s the same as having a good meal with a true foodie. They heighten the experience by pointing out the stuff you can sense but can’t describe.

Even if you don’t want to read this book, or Hayden in particular, I hope you have critic in your life that jives with your sensibilities.

[Erin · Rating 1 out of 5]

Boring and completely out of touch. I had to DNF during the Dylan chapter because these are the opinions of someone who doesn't really understand music, the current culture or what caused the decline of rock music. Also, anyone who believes in white privilege can't be taken seriously. You're a dinosaur, man.

[David · Rating 5 out of 5]

Please, sir, may I have more stars?

A fantastic deconstruction and dissection of classic rock that blends elements of personal memoir and rock musicology. Excellent, informative, and very funny.

All of the negative reviews here are of the “Get off my lawn” variety. OK, Boomers.

[William (Bill) Fluke · Rating 2 out of 5]

Not so qualified snippets/ ramblings on classic rock; I had so many issues with this book, I had to finish it to get to my review of the book. Here is what makes it NOT worth a read:
- no common thread running through the book to connect the various snippets and back-stories about classic rock- some interesting, but most you already have heard/read
- the author- while noted as published and a critic and by those standards could be qualified to write such a book, I couldn't get beyond the fact this guy is 40 years old. Born in 1977 he didn't really "experience" most of the classic rock era and the experiences he does mention don't lend much to his credibility.
- when he speaks of his listening and purchasing of recorded music, he speaks of CD's; Sorry, but to be a classic rock aficionado in my view, you are still listening and buying vinyl records.
- his favorite Paul McCartney effort is "McCartney II" that includes "Wonderful Christmastime", which has to be one of the worst songs ever!
- tangents and ramblings include a commentary on Netflix documentary- "Making a Murderer"- still not sure how that ties into classic rock
- did he really mention Huey Lewis as one of his favorite rock acts? Sorry, but you lost credibility with that one..
- sorry, but don't consider Prince as classic rock so that entire chapter was a waste
- periodic questionable use of English grammar- page 254- "... to create something that feels a little realer...." - perhaps you meant more real?
I could go on further, but you get the idea. Pass on this one. What was likely most frustrating is knowing this book is out there and selling and I could have written something on the topic so much better and more coherent than this book.

[Jack Wolfe · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hey hey, my my... Rock and roll will probably die
It doesn't matter if you burn out or fade away
Because we all die, oh yeah

Neil Young once said something like that?

Steven Hyden isn't the first person to notice the curious fascination classic rock has with time and death. But what makes "Twilight of the Gods" special is that, as a member of Generation X, Hyden came to Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Springsteen, Bob Seger, et al as someone "out of time," a kid who thought this stuff was eternal, that it represented a sort of high watermark for music that would last long after the pop fluff of the contemporary moment has drifted away on the breeze...

We see now, of course, that rock is not eternal. The stars themselves, for one, keep literally dying. In the past couple of years, we've lost Bowie, Prince, Tom Petty, Glenn Frey, and fucking Lemmy. It seems like it's been a rough stretch, until you think about all the geriatric rockers who are still with us. The Stones (most of em), Paul and Ringo, Simon and Garfunkel, Bob Dylan, Ray Davies, Page and Plant and JPJ, Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend... Though they probably all should be dead, they continue to record, tour, and plagiarize Cliffnotes for Nobel Prize speeches. How much longer do any of them have?

Classic rock has shown to be mortal in a metaphorical sense, too. In the past couple of decades, page after page of smart, well-intentioned criticism has set out to delegitimize the "classic rock" idea, showing how the genre was essentially created by radio execs to sell merchandise to an aging populace, how it was designed to exclude artists of color and women, how its appeal has notoriously been for the lunkheaded homophobe set (see the awful "Disco Demolition Night"), how most of the music's greatest practitioners are, to put it lightly, cruel and self-absorbed billionaire junkie brats who sleep with ten year olds, how the whole thing is, at best, kind of phony and dumb, and at worst, perniciously reactionary.

I came to classic rock in a way not unlike Mr. Hyden. When I was beginning to break free from my parent's stifling regime of 80s and 90s pop country (much of which, in retrospect, rules (thanks mom and dad)), I was kind of alarmed by what was on the radio. Truly, the pop and rock of the early 2000s was even sillier and shittier-sounding than Tim McGraw. I found refuge in earlier tymes. The Beatles opened my eyes to a whole separate way of being. Zep immediately followed, and then Pink Floyd, and then the Doors, and then Nirvana. This was the stuff that seemed REAL, the stuff made by true artists, the stuff that would last. It had style, it was played by people who had "talent" (oh how obsessed I was with "talent"), it was where I wanted to spend the rest of my life. Because it wasn't just music. It was CLASSIC ROCK.

Well you grow up and you read about things and you talk to women and you realize that nothing about, oh, "Won't Get Fooled Again" is objectively better than, say, "Spice Up Your Life" (one graciously takes less than TEN MINUTES to make its point). I'm tempered my enthusiasms for the myths and ideas and guitar riffs of mid-period rock and roll-- I've incorporated hip-hop and electro and disco and girl groups and so many New Yorker articles about, you know, how that stuff matters, white man. But the rock music of the 60s and 70s is still, nevertheless, my chief occupation in life. So I related to "Twilight of the Gods" completely, and read it in, like, a day. It was hard to stop. It was like reading myself, as described by Black Sabbath songs.

So familiar was "Twilight of the Gods," that, well, I sometimes wondered what its purpose is. The majority of the book is a retelling of the fables of rock, stories that most of the Hyden's readers (i.e. people who will vouch passionately for the merits of "The Crunge") will have already heard dozens of times (Altamont, Dylan "going electric," something about a mud shark, eww). Indeed, the artists he discusses most are artists who have hundreds of books written about them-- the Beatles, Dylan, the Stones, Springsteen-- artists who might actually last beyond the umbrella of the term "classic rock." Even the supposedly revisionist opinions he espouses about those bands are opinions that, well, I hold dear, and therefore can't be considered too radical ("Black and Blue" by the Stones is a TERRIFIC album, you nincompoops. And yeah, Wings > the Beatles.). At the end of the book, Hyden acknowledges the groups he wanted to write about at length but didn't-- "Queen, the Beach Boys, Rod Stewart and the Faces, Rush, Genesis, Elton John, John Mellencamp, Joni Mitchell, the Kinks, ELO, Cheap Trick, the Guess Who, Billy Joel, and Warren Zevon." I think I would've rather read three hundred pages about THESE bands, several of whom are still "controversial" to canon builders. (I humbly submit Genesis as the most needlessly destructive band of the 20th century.)

I can't hold the book's somewhat middling quality against it, though. I mean, "middling" is like the word you use to describe your local classic rock station, right? "Sweet Emotion," "Hotel California," "The Joker." "Twilight of the Gods" works as a time capsule of an era, and an affectionate love letter to that era's stars, and a thoughtful meditation on growing old and dying. It's written with humor and warmth, and Hyden seems like he'd be a great guy to "talk music" with: fiercely opinionated, but open-minded and self-aware.

But he likes Phish. Who are terrible.

[John Spiller · Rating 3 out of 5]

To put "Twilight of the Gods" in a perspective that Steven Hyden would appreciate: it is the "Goat's Head Soup" of rock books. Let me explain.

If you have an interest in "Twilight of the Gods," you are undoubtedly familiar with the Rolling Stones' "Goats Head Soup". "Goats Head Soup" is many things -- underrated and overrated -- precisely because it contains both great songs and terrible songs. (This is the band that created "Exile on Main Street"?)

Hyden's "Twilight of the Gods" alternates between pithy and accurate taxonomic dissections of "classic rock" and boring hagiography of "Dad rock" like Bruce Springsteen. When Hyden examines how "classic rock" came to exist, I found myself nodding in agreement. When he posits his five most important rock shows, it set my teeth on edge. (Altamont, really?)

Hyden's regional bias is also unmistakable. He spends considerable time breaking down second-tier Midwest classic rock, but he never mentions Lynyrd Skynyrd or ZZ Top.

Please take my review with a grain of salt. If you grew up listening to AOR on FM radio in the 1970's, still like Bruce Springsteen and Tom Petty, and like "newer" bands like Nirvana and Pearl Jam, I think you will enjoy this book immensely.

[Peacegal · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a book about classic rock and the people who love it. Why do we love bands of the ‘60s and ‘70s so much? (Because it’s the best damn music in the world *randomly punches air*) What’s the future for this style of music and will it always loom large in the imaginations of so many fans?

Like the author, I was a ‘90s teen who fell hard for Sixties and Seventies rock 30 years after the fact. (If he thought his musical interests made him uncool during this era, try being a girl in the same situation.)

I enjoyed this book’s sense of humor. Hyden is good with the one-liners, for example, I got a huge kick out of his description of a seedy dive bar on the TV series “Vinyl” as a “Lou Reed-themed version of TGI Friday’s.”

I also appreciated Hyden’s lengthy discussion of, and spirited defense of, Phish. I love Phish and have seen them live more times than any other group, and I honestly didn’t realize that the band was so widely disliked. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But I wouldn’t write rock’s obituary quite yet. After all, these is no one living who has ever seen Bach or Beethoven in concert, yet their music remains with us.

[Kristen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Apparently the major difference between Steven Hyden and me is that he likes long, noodling guitar solos and I do not. Otherwise, I found his take on a lifetime of classic rock love to be remarkably poignant and relatable. I felt like I could have written parts of this book, particularly Hyden's description of discovering the great records of the past through crappy commercial radio, and his assertion that "Classic rock was there before I was born, and I was sure that it would be there long after it was gone." It's a good time for these observations and the question of whether rock is really dead this time. I think Hyden gets it right in his thesis that the sounds of rock are alive and well (if diffused) in other genres, but that "rock" as a monolith of pop culture has seen its peak come and go.

Like Hyden, my younger self never would have imagined I'd see this day come. But of course, all dominant cultures are eventually overthrown, and in the grand scheme of things rock music lasted about as long as could be expected. Hyden cleverly relates this cycle to Joseph Campbell's hero's journey (also something I could have written!), and comes to a conclusion that jives with observations I've seen from other rock critics lately: "In the twenty-first century, rock mythology has been inverted. Now it's up to the listeners to go on a hero's journey to seek out what they're looking for. The music no longer finds you. You must find the music."

[Josh Bokor · Rating 4 out of 5]

4/5
I gave Steve Hyden a second chance, since I really didn't care for his book on Radiohead's "Kid A," and I'm glad I gave him another shot. "Twilight of the Gods" is a great study on the history of classic rock and what the term even entails. He gives plenty of knowledgeable insight into personal stories from his experience with the genre as well as tying in specific points throughout rock history, all the way to the current day. Hyden really balances things out by pointing at both the absurdities and benefits that classic rock has and continues to give us. It really makes you think critically about the endless debate of... what even is "classic rock?"

[Dayna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Loved this. Funny and thoughtful. The whole exercise of thinking about how fans of classic rock who were born after the genre's glory days experience the music and musicians is interesting and also touching. Reading about Hyden growing his youthful cassette collection made me think of raiding my parents' cassettes as a thirteen-year-old and later, making tough economical decisions about which CDs to purchase with birthday gift cards to Best Buy. I do think that the advent of Greatest Hits collections is missing from this book. But this was still a great time.

[Len or Len · Rating 4 out of 5]

Read this very quickly and liked it a lot. Hyden tackles all the classic rock mythology of performers like Bob Dylan, the Beatles, Springsteen and Tom Petty. The tone is not mournful, more wistful. Hyden is a very fluid writer and he writes bothe entertainingly and with insight.

[Joel Adamson · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the best summary of the subject of classic rock that I've read. Steven Hyden, author of Your Favorite Band Is Killing Me: What Pop Music Rivalries Reveal About the Meaning of Life and former Onion A.V. Club rock critic, asks what the mythology of classic rock means to him and what will happen when the people who created it are gone. Many of them already are gone, and thus Hyden was inspired to write this book by a Who concert in 2012. How does Classic Rock fare in the age of streaming? What happened to it? Is Rock dead?

These are all great questions, and I think most of all my similarities with the author make this a fun read. In other words, I already hate the author enough to know that he and I have a lot in common. This is a good book, with plenty of Classic Rock stories but without the author condescending to the audience by re-hashing all the old ones everybody knows (e.g. he mentions The Mudshark, but doesn't spend ten pages re-telling the story). He even mentions and recommends the best books that helped create the Classic Rock mythos. That's clearly something I have in common with the author: we both love music and love books.

Best of all is Hyden's usage of mythology as a framing device: Classic Rock is a myth, in the best sense of the word, the way Der Ring or Mount Olympus or the founding of McDonald's have their own mythology. Classic Rock is a big story with a cast of characters that become godlike. Hyden tackles these characters in a series of topical chapters, e.g. about albums as an art form, drugs and alcohol, Satanism, and profile chapters where he goes in-depth on specific artists. In the topical chapters, he makes a lot of good points, especially the chapter about albums versus today's streaming playlist and "station" formats, which are oriented toward single songs. My favorite streaming service is unabashedly anti-album, which really pisses me off: I want to hear my favorite music from 35 years ago in the format it was meant to be heard in, not one song from here and one song from there. This book is recent enough that it captures the current contradictions and weirdness of remaining a Classic Rock fan with today's technology (which both I and the author certainly enjoy for its convenience), but it contributes to the demise of the Classic Rock mythos.

The profile chapters are largely forgettable, telling about the author's predilections, or downright irritating. The profile chapter about The Eagles is funny, especially because Hyden is not afraid to say how much he hates that band. I'll forgive Hyden's ignorance of where The Eagles actually came from (most Classic Rock fans are unaware of it; it's esoteric knowledge reserved for bluegrass musicians like myself), and say he did a great job of hating The Eagles. The rest of the profile chapters, on Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, and Phish if you can believe it, just were useless to me. I think Dylan and Springsteen are great songwriters if you're into the Freudian Americana-Nonsense Axis, as I call it, but I just don't get the worship of these guys. I almost skipped both of these chapters in the audiobook. I did skip the chapter on Phish because I was screaming at the stereo in my car, reinforcing the author's point that people either love Phish or hate them. I hate them. I don't care if they reference Pink Floyd, Talking Heads, Genesis, and other bands I love. I hate Phish. Phish SUCKS.

But the above just shows Hyden's different perspective, as does the way he talks about Pink Floyd. He's clearly a lyrics guy. When most people talk about "music," they don't mean music at all. They can't even specify what they like about a particular song or artist. They like the artist's image or the artist herself or what she stands for. They might like some message in the artist's lyrics (which probably aren't hers). Still, they don't mean the particular sonic qualities of a recording or concert or the chord progressions employed by a particular song, or the way it was recorded. When people like Hyden say "music" they mean a particular aesthetic embodied by those artists. Hyden rarely actually talks about music. He doesn't talk about how Bob Dylan's songs changed after interacting with The Beatles, he talks about how The Beatles started dealing with new subject matter in their songs after interacting with Bob Dylan. Honestly, I'm not sure if this is because writing about music is a lot harder, though not impossible, and it's doubtful those in the audience who aren't musicians will understand what you're talking about, or because Hyden just doesn't care about the technical aspects of music. In my experience, most music critics don't know much about music or how it's created, and they really don't care because that's not what they're listening for. (Plenty of them don't give a shit about the facts of how musicians interact and how musical influence actually works; they just want to talk about people they find interesting)

This mirrors the duality I encountered as soon as I became an impassioned Pink Floyd fan in high school. There are Gilmour fans and Waters fans (Rick Wright deserves his own fans and a lot more credit, but musicians who sit never get as much credit as those who stand). Gilmour fans are into the sonic textures, the clarity of the recordings, odd time signatures, the shape of the songs, and how they transition from one to the next. Waters fans talk about isolation, alienation, insanity, and the pressures of daily life. "All you touch and all you see is all your life will ever be" is incredibly positive (because of how it scans in the context of the melody) to Gilmour fans and very cynical and negative to Waters fans. Furthermore, The Wall is the favorite album of Waters fans, while Gilmour fans, if they even bother with The Wall, point out that the songs credited as collaborations with Gilmour are the best songs on the album.

Hyden is not a Pink Floyd fan, but he'd be a Waters-sided fan if he was. This means, I would argue, that he misses a few interesting facts that would affect his thesis or make it irrelevant. His thesis is, as best I can tell, that Classic Rock is a particular mythos that was created by radio programmers in the early 80s. He and I, as listeners in the 90s, didn't know this, and so Classic Rock, along with its mythology (including the interaction of band members and the antics of band members and road crew members along with the creation of the music) became a Real Thing. I agree with that basic idea, but what he misses in the creation of that myth has a lot to do with music sensu strictu, which is something that he misses entirely.

For example, take Steely Dan and Pink Floyd, two bands that most listeners wouldn't group together. On musical terms, however, I would because both of them have a strong influence from jazz. The way they made music is totally different (Steely Dan was not really a band, but two songwriters with a revolving door of studio musicians; whereas Pink Floyd were four guys who met in school and continued making music together for almost 20 years), but their influences have a lot in common. They are both on Classic Rock radio. But what does either group have to do with Foreigner? Or Black Sabbath? Furthermore, what don't they have in common with Roxy Music, a band that is NEVER played on Classic Rock radio? Or Slade? Or Kate Bush, who has enough in common musically with Peter Gabriel and Elton John that she would fit right in, at least for some songs. The answer, which honestly reinforces Hyden's point, is that they all have enough in common musically, and in terms of "scene," or tradition, that they make a good mix on the radio. But he never gets into the decisions made by those radio programmers, he simply resorts to the weakest of all arguments: racism, sexism, and homophobia.

The idea that Classic Rock is "unbearably white" pervades Hyden's book to the point of irritation. He doesn't use that phrase, but he does say that the "whiteness" of Classic Rock is a problem that must be dealt with (or cannot be avoided). Oh really? Is the blackness of R&B, soul, and funk a problem that cannot be avoided? Or is it something to be enjoyed, just as the Englishness of Genesis, Yes, and Pink Floyd is? I definitely think the latter. Hyden kinda makes himself look ridiculous when he claims that James Brown, Parliament/Funkadelic, Earth, Wind, and Fire and other funk acts of the Seventies were playing rock music. Only someone who knows nothing about music would make try to make that point. MUSIC. Not a music scene, not the esthetics of rock bands. Music. Someone who understands music knows that funk and R&B are different musically from rock in terms of time signatures, chords, song structure, and even blatantly obvious things like the instruments employed (most rock bands wouldn't get away with having a horn section, whereas EWF without its horn section isn't EWF). The only big name artists who are credible as funk artists and rock artists are Prince and Rick James, and their particular songs always fit into one category or another.

Furthermore, Hyden makes the point (basically) that only white males are permitted to be branded as Classic Rock, and yet doesn't deal with all the white males who were excluded. On musical grounds, Roxy Music belongs in Classic Rock if David Bowie does. Why not Leonard Cohen if Neil Young and Bob Dylan are on Classic Rock radio? Why not anything by Chicago after Terry Kath died? Why not Hall and Oates? Why not any KISS song other than "Rock and Roll All Nite?" Why not Mike Oldfield? Why were Asia, Journey, and REO Speedwagon immediately termed Classic Rock while still contemporary rock bands, and yet other bands more classic, such as Genesis were excluded (until they had such huge hits they couldn't be ignored)? I don't think the answer is that Journey were white men. There's some better explanation and yet Hyden never gets to it.

If he can't hear that Dark Side of the Moon is a jazz album, then I'm not convinced that any argument he could make on the basis of musical technicalities would impress me. But that's okay because the book is still fun to read even if he doesn't get to the bottom of his point. Falling back on racism, sexism, and homophobia is really weak, but I don't think it detracts entirely too much from having a fun book about Classic Rock. Hyden at the very least props up the ethos, and talks about the feeling of being a Classic Rock fan. He recognizes that experience at the very least, even if he can't explain it. In his final chapter, in which he tries to say that artists are still carrying on the Classic Rock ethos, but some of them are gay men or lesbians, he makes another weak argument. The artists he mentions are so firmly within the Indie Rock scene that they have nothing to do with Classic Rock. But "that's progress," he says, without noting the dissenting opinions about progress in art. I find the idea of progress in art to be totally vacuous and unintelligible, but Hyden is happy to just talk about what he wants to talk about, whether it makes sense or not.

So all in all, I highly recommend this book, even if the author is just plain wrong about a lot of what he says.

[Patrick Macke · Rating 4 out of 5]

I was never really sure where the author was going with this book. At times the book feels like a compact history of Classic Rock, but it isn't that. What it is is a road trip through the Classic Rock landscape with stops at about fifty of Classic Rock's roadside shrines (some more meaningful than others). The dude in the driver's seat took me down a bunch of streets and back alleys I didn't want to travel down. On the radio, he wanted to skip songs I loved and then he played (really loud) songs I can't stand. On more than one occasion I wanted to pull the car over and ask him to get out, but of course, I couldn't because he was driving.

Still, the entire trip was a celebration of Classic Rock, a subject and a lifestyle that is really important to a lot of us ... And for organizing and sweating over this "celebration," I really ended up digging Steven Hyden. If you read a lot of books about rock music and bands, then you'll probably have the same reaction to this book that I did (flawed, but some wonderful Classic Rock moments); if you read this type of book sparingly, however, you just might find this book a fantastic, quirky overview of the greatest musical time and place the world has never known.

[Benjamin Kahn · Rating 1 out of 5]

Got through most of the second chapter before giving up. I'm not sure what I expected, but it wasn't just some guy rattling on about his radio listening experiences and his thoughts on classic rock. It reminded me of the little Chuck Klosterman that I've read and also not enjoyed, although when Klosterman writes about heavy metal, he does it in a "I'm so hip now, I can muse fondly on my youthful exuberance," which I don't get from Hyden.

Didn't agree with his rambling about Zeppelin IV - I had it on cassette, as he claims to have, and the track listing didn't mirror the album. Which ruins his whole discussion of side one vs side two since my sides were different. Also, I've never heard anybody argue that In Through the Out Door is Zeppelin's best album - almost everybody I've ever talked to goes on about Physical Graffitti. I never really cared for Physical Graffitti. So when he starts to go in-depth about Zeppelin, and I don't agree with anything he says, I knew that the rest of the book would be the same. Skipped ahead through that and the Dark Side of the Moon discussion and then returned the book to the library.

[Groucho42 · Rating 1 out of 5]

Converts are usually more ardent and idiotic than people who grew up in a faith. This book is a great example. The author is a kid who "found" classic rock and jumped on board. The book is pedantic tripe, no worth anyone's time.

His view of classic rock is taken from an over thought yet still pop narrative. The two extremes are shown early. Over thought? The entire chapter on Dylan is crap. The musician is an egocentric child who is a mediocre musician but has written some of the best lyrics of the era. That's it. Pop? Only fools think that Dark Side of the Moon is the best Floyd album before the travesty that is the Wall. If you really love Floyd, you know it's an argument between Ummagumma and Meddle, neither of which the author mentions.

His overwrought prose does nothing to hide his vapid and superficial knowledge of that era of rock.

[Ace Boggess · Rating 4 out of 5]

What Chuck Klosterman does for hair metal in Fargo Rock City, Twilight of the Gods does for classic rock. Hyden's book, like Klosterman's, is part journalistic take on a musical genre and part memoir exploring the author's experiences with and nostalgia for that music. The book is filled with insights, but also marvelously laced with humor. I was as surprised by how many times I thought, "Wow, I didn't know that," as I was by how many times I found myself laughing out loud. This is a strong work. I wouldn't call it important writing, but if you're interested in music (especially classic rock), you'll enjoy this book. If you haven't read Klosterman's book, trust me when I say this book and that fit together like an old married couple. Give them both a shot.

[Wray F · Rating 4 out of 5]

Who knew other guys had a Jim Morrison "Doors phase" after the Oliver Stone film came out in the early 90's? As embarrasing as it is to admit now, I too momentarily thought it was cool to drink whiskey straight from the bottle, write shitty poetry, and behave in stupid, reckless ways. I thought it was "Dionysian" and went back to Ancient Greece. Really, I was just a drunk and naive 21 year old, who had questionable taste in heroes (Hello, Hunter S. Thompson a short time later).
Most of your big names fill the pages of this book. The rock gods who have controlled music culture since we were kids. The ones who are still touring long after they probably should have quit, the ones who continue to somehow reinvent themselves, and the ones....who are dead. I've had a Rolling Stone subscription off and on for more than 30+ years now, so I've heard virtually all theses stories before. That's why I knocked off a star above. If these tales are new, you will like it more.
I started noticing the disappearance of rock several years back. Each new Coachella lineup confirms that if it isn't on the way out as a dominant art form, it is at least in a huge lull right now. Your own mortality comes to the forefront when something one thinks will be around forever gradually fades away, flames out of existence.
Hyden makes some good points in terms of hope for the rock genre. Who wants to see a concert in a stadium anyway? Isn't it much better in a smaller club or theater? There are plenty of great bands out there and services like Spotify and others make this easier to find than ever (now, if only they paid anyone). If one digs around, there is more than enough talent to satisfy any listener and be playlist-worthy. The old stuff was filled but egotistical white guys selling some drugged-out fantasy. Oftentimes awesome? Yes. This new crop has plenty of new possibilites.
It's odd how people get older and abandon new music. They stop listening and just settle back to what they were used to. People watch new movies, watch new television shows, but then throw on the same Eagles album they were listening to in 1976. Weird.

[Swjohnson · Rating 2 out of 5]

Steven Hyden’s “Twilight of the Gods: A Journey to the End of Classic Rock” is a good-natured but mostly dispensable reflection on a genre and radio format that enjoys evergreen popularity. Haden reasonably questions its long-term durability and whether the genre’s canon really is as good or culturally relevant as it appears. But this entertaining critical-memoir hybrid is more an extended riff on well-worn pop-culture attitudes than a meaningful analysis.

Hyden’s writing and ideas will be familiar to rock fans who came of age between the late 70s and late 80s, where classic rock radio and Rolling Stone magazine (along with its taste- and king-making record guides) sustained a musical culture bubble. Classic rock is, almost by definition, a genre that relies on a precise but sometimes mysterious canon: Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin and the Who are included and revered. Other best-selling artists such as Eagles sustain the radio format but are not critically respected. Naturally, any critical canon opens a flank to contrarian responses: How can the Beatles “Sgt. Pepper” or Bob Dylan’s “Blonde on Blonde” really match the lofty hyperbole of the Rolling Stone record guide?

Hyden takes a genial stroll through those ideas, but readers who came of age in the post-print world of websites like Pitchfork and the diffuse critical opinions of the Internet may find his approach to be dated or even alien. Likewise, those who have never sampled the pissed-off hauteur of old-school critics like Lester Bangs or Greil Marcus might be confused by a loose, profanity-laden prose style that tries to balance street crudity with intellectual heft. In the end, “Twilight of the Gods” is a time capsule for a bygone era’s critical attitudes, an approach that may evoke warm memories for some. Others might not lament that Hyden’s odd Carter- and Reagan-era brand of pop-culture elitism has largely fallen off the map.

[William Schram · Rating 5 out of 5]

I admit the book did not give me a good first impression. Once I reached the author’s arguments, though, I found it difficult to put the book down.

Twilight of the Gods is a book by Steven Hyden about Classic Rock stars aging themselves into death. It’s a strange take on the idea and something I never thought of before. I know everyone dies; that isn’t the point I’m trying to make. Hyden argues that Classic Rock itself is dying.

When I was younger, I listened to the Oldies stations off the radio. One of my earliest memories is hearing Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel. I never liked cutting-edge music. I preferred the tried and true sound of yesteryear.

Eventually, the Oldies stations began to play music from the 1980s. I realized that the Oldies are relative. I started streaming my music, but I digress.

As I mentioned, the author argues that Classic Rock is a dying genre of music. It opened with the album era and died with them. The world will never have another band like Pink Floyd or Led Zeppelin. With Pink Floyd, you have Dark Side of the Moon or The Wall to listen to. In our streaming society, we only listen to the most popular songs.

I have no qualms with the book. I am not a concertgoer, but I do enjoy the genre. I can’t refute Hyden’s arguments.

I enjoyed the book. Thanks for reading my review, and see you next time.

[Julien L · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have so many thoughts about this book, that I doubt I'll be able to get them all out in a cohesive manner, but needless to say I enjoyed it. The exploration of classic rock through its history, sociology, and mythology from the perspective of both fan and critic is extraordinarily well done in this book. It details thoughts I've thought before while looking at things from angles I hadn't considered. There are times where the book goes off into tangents that don't exactly go back into the core thesis of this book, but even those are enjoyable to read. This is a genre of music I've grown up on and have only sort-of critically examined, but this book made me re-examine my relationship to a musical form that does and doesn't always get its due. This is the kind of analytical talks about music that fans and critics only have with each other in book form, and I love that.

[Michael Mingo · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've always liked Hyden as a writer, so no surprise I'm down with the individual essays here. He knows popular music and writes about it with a lightly wry attitude. Picks of the bunch: "My Love Will Not Let You Down" (on Springsteen with a brief detour on Petty) and, even though much of it is repeated verbatim from an AV Club article, "Keep on Loving You" (on REO Speedwagon and Fleetwood Mac). The former just does well in conveying the subjective experience of watching a concert, while the latter is Hyden at his most personal, as he uses 70s/80s corporate rock to frame his relationships to his divorced parents.

One noteworthy quibble with the book: the structure. Hyden tries to frame the essays along the lines of Joseph Campbell, but it's so halfhearted it hardly registers. Might have been better to just present the nineteen pieces sans skeleton, at that point.

[Christopher Hart · Rating 3 out of 5]

A really enjoyable read, but not quite the book I'd hoped it would be. What was I hoping for? Based on the subtitle, I guess I was looking forward to accounts of and insight from classic rockers who are still touring intimate venues with decimated versions of their original lineups. For example, America will be dragging their 60- and 70-year-old selves to play up here in the freezing drizzle of Portland, Maine, this March. Why? What motivates the classic rock musicians who are still performing at this point in their lives? I've always wondered...

This book is more of a memoir -- the author lovingly retracing the soundtrack of his own past. He and I are the same age, so I thoroughly enjoyed the trip down memory lane. There's a half-hearted attempt to shape the chapters into the archetypal hero's journey, in the mold of The Hero with a Thousand Faces. You get the feeling his editor was like, "Steven, this can't just be a book where you riff on your favorite bands. It needs some sort of structure." But ultimately, that's what this book is, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

[David B. · Rating 5 out of 5]

I absolutely LOVED this Book. Every chapter is about a different Classic Rock artist(s) and how they influenced popular culture at the time and what those artist meant to the author Steven Hyden. Reading it took me down memory lane. Since I was born in 1969, I remember when most of these artist were at the peak of their powers. I also remember when I heard the bands that were no longer together (i.e. The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, old Pink Floyd, old Rolling Stones, old Rush and many other artist like them) but they still bring back memories of where I was in my life. He talks about how music is waaaaay different today than it was back in the day. Basically artist forgo the classic album and just stream singles. Hence, the title of the book, The end of Classic Rock. A must read for anyone who grew up from the 70's up until the late 90's. Sure there are still some dad rock bands out there (Pearl Jam and Foo Fighters) but not like back in the day. Highly recommend this book. I wish the book was +500 pages instead of just 300 pages.

[Mark · Rating 3 out of 5]

A local Wisconsin Rock critic, who is a younger than me, does a good job at explaining the timeline of Classic Rock and how it's future is in jeopardy with all of the legends sure to pass away in the near future. He writes about his admiration of these bands and has seen them as aging rock stars,,the biggest difference is that I saw most of them when they were in their prime. A good read however.

[Brett · Rating 4 out of 5]

How much you enjoy it may hinge on whether you agree with some of its premises (I can't get behind the idea that the Classic Rock-era existed into the 90s, let alone that Nine Inch Nails' The Fragile was "the last classic rock" album(!)), but I thought its viewpoints were interesting and with enough humor to at least smooth out the parts I wasn't fully on board with.