Fargo Rock City: Una odisea metalera en la Daköta del Nörte rural

by Chuck Klosterman

A medio camino entre las memorias, el ensayo y el estudio antropológico, Fargo Rock City es un libro hilarante que narra el auge y la caída del heavy metal y de algunos de los grupos más populares de los años 80 y 90 (Guns N’ Roses, Poison, Bon Jovi, Def Leppard, Metallica y muchos otros) a la vez que recrea las experiencias juveniles del autor: un fan irredento del metal, nacido en Wyndmere, Dakota del Norte, un lugar en el que habitan más vacas que personas y en el que los temas de conversación habituales son la recogida de la cosecha, el correcto cuidado del ganado agropecuario y los secretos del arte de reparar un tractor. Pero aunque quizás tal entorno no parezca el más propicio para entregarse en cuerpo y alma al rock and roll, hubo un momento en la historia de la música en el que el poder del metal era simplemente imparable e incluso los páramos helados de Dakota del Norte vibraban al compás de KISS y Mötley Crüe. Chuck Klosterman, calificado como «uno de los principales críticos culturales de Norteamérica» por la revista Entertainment Weekly y como «el nuevo Hunter S. Thompson» por la revista People, disecciona con humor e impecable precisión la historia y los rasgos básicos del género, desvelando todas sus glorias y miserias.

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, Memoir, Essays, Pop Culture, Humor, Biography

352 pages, Paperback

First published April 28, 2001

About the author

Charles John Klosterman is an American author and essayist whose work focuses on American popular culture. He has been a columnist for Esquire and ESPN.com and wrote "The Ethicist" column for The New York Times Magazine. Klosterman is the author of twelve books, including two novels and the essay collection Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto. He was awarded the ASCAP Deems Taylor award for music criticism in 2002.

Reviews

[Trin · Rating 2 out of 5]

I have kind of a love/hate relationship with Chuck Klosterman. I’ve read all his books (I left this one till last, because it’s about heavy metal and that’s not a subject I’m desperately interested in) and I think he’s frequently incredibly funny and often very insightful. But man, does he piss me off sometimes. In Fargo Rock City, that occurred when he decided to share his views on female music fans. Apparently, male music fans are more loyal and less likely to get distracted by every shiny new thing because men are more analytical and women are more emotional. Yeah. There are so many things wrong with that statement that I risk turning this into a huge rant, which I do not want to do. Leaving aside the issue of “loyalty” (well, after I point to exhibit A: the giant collection of U2 stuff that I’ve bought over the years even when a) I had no money, and b) what I was buying was redundant to stuff I already had save for an extra B-side or remix or miniposter or WHATEVER), for Klosterman to use the old “men are analytical, women are emotional” argument is so absurd in the context of this book that it’s almost hilarious. Because the ENTIRE BOOK is about Klosterman’s emotions. How much he loved heavy metal, and how much it changed and shaped his life, and how much he still loves it. How much it bugs him when people dismiss it without thought, and how he thinks it should be considered important because it was important to him. This is a raw outpouring of emotion! Only he’s a guy, so we’re not allowed to call it that. We have to call it analysis. Right. Do people—Klosterman and anyone else—really think that when women have emotions—which, y’know, we’re actually willing to admit are emotions—we don’t analyze them at all? That we’re just like, “I feel so HAPPY today! La la la!” or “I’m SAD today. I’m heading straight for the Ben & Jerry’s, no thought involved!” Or even, “I really like this band! I’m just going to listen to them and go to concerts and scream and try to sleep with the drummer AND NEVER CONSIDER MY MOTIVATIONS AT ALL.” Women are clearly brainless puppy-dog creatures!

Okay, so this may have tapped into some other issues I’m having right now? But the point remains. Klosterman’s “analysis” of what makes heavy metal important is actually very minimal: it was important to him. It was important to a lot of other people. Therefore it is important in general. And I completely agree with this. I think pop culture should be talked about, because it does say a lot about people and what matters to them—and what could be more important than that? This is why I like reading Klosterman in the first place: because he recognizes that, and talks about it in an amusing manner. It’s just when he decides that he’s an expert on women that he pisses me off. (Well, and some other times. But never mind.)

ANYWAY…all of that said, I actually enjoyed the rest of the book a lot. And I don’t care one iota about heavy metal. But Klosterman does make me care about other people caring.

[Scott · Rating 5 out of 5]

"In the 1980's, heavy metal was pop (and I say that to mean it was 'popular'). Growing up, it was the soundtrack for my life and for the life of pretty much everyone I cared about. We didn't necessarily dress in leather chaps and we didn't wear makeup to school, but this stuff touched our minds. Regardless of its artistic merit, Guns N' Roses' 1987 [release] 'Appetite For Destruction' affected the guys in my class the same way teens in 1967 were touched by [Lennon & McCartney]." -- the author, on page 4

Fargo Rock City is a memoir-ish collection of twenty essays by author / columnist / critic Chuck Klosterman, a Gen X-er who grew up in a small farming community in rural North Dakota. Entering adolescence during the mid-80's, he was exposed to the burgeoning heavy metal music scene (derisively labeled 'hair' or 'glam' metal by detractors) via a sort of perfect storm trifecta of FM radio, cassettes purchased at the nearest mall, and music videos on a then-young network called MTV.

Klosterman has crafted a very witty, opinionated, and - perhaps surprisingly - analytical piece of work. On occasion he relates a few non-music anecdotes and memories from his teenage years, but the main focus is intelligently discussing the era's musical output with equal parts respect and snark. While he takes appropriate potshots at some of the ridiculous lyrics and/or crazy rock star antics, he likes to drive home a valid point - that various groups' legitimate skills and talents in composing and performing the music were often overlooked, dismissed or forgotten by folks. It should also be noted that the book was by no means meant to be an all-encompassing history or timeline of this particular musical genre. Certain acts (Motley Crue, Guns N' Roses, Skid Row, Poison, Van Halen, KISS) get a lot of print time, but there were others that were not mentioned at all or received scant attention. In personal note conclusion, I didn't particularly enjoy much of my junior high years ('87-'90) but during that time I cherished my cassettes that included Dr. Feelgood, Hysteria, and Appetite For Destruction. This book brought back some positive memories of when that hard rocking, high tempo and head-banging music was new, exciting, and just seemed to be everywhere in U.S. pop culture.

[Imogen · Rating 2 out of 5]

I get the project, and I support the project. I was absolute4ly in love with Poison in fourth grade, and I still get super semi-ironically excited about a lot of the music he's writing about, in just the ways he describes. But Chuck, did you have to be such a douche?

The section on sexism in 80s glam rock is the most tautological, non-informative series of non-arguments I've ever read, which seems to culminate in the argument 'these bands were sexist, but in capitalism, who cares?' Which is problematic. (There's also an "I want to bone new school feminists but old school ones are stupid" theme running through the book.) The whole relationship of Chuck Kolsterman and money, throughout the book, just doesn't make sense to me- it's like, there's vague impressions of a critique of the American capitalist system that makes things weird and messed up, unless it's in relation to a band he likes, in which case 'wanting money' becomes this totally legitimate motive.

Also 26 pages of listing albums he likes (and why) got super boring super quick.

I don't know. I kept thinking, 'that is a perfect quote for my scathing goodreads review of this book!' but not marking them, which means I don't have 'em for you. And since I spent the whole book hating the author, I can't really be bothered to go looking.

[Hadley · Rating 2 out of 5]

Oh man. I really thought I would love this book, but aside from a few humorous passages, I ended up never wanting to read anything else by Klosterman. Here were my issues with the book: 1. It's not so much about heavy metal as it is about hair metal (or "glam rock" as Klosterman calls it- not sure how appropriate a moniker that is for Poison and the like but whatever) 2. Klosterman has some serious issues with women, and really came off as an asshole on multiple occasions throughout the book. 3. I heartily disagreed with many of the musical opinions he expressed in general.

There's not much to say about issue #1, other than I think Pantera was maybe mentioned once in the book, and the ratio of discussion about Van Halen/Poison/Ratt/Cinderella, etc to Slayer/Metallica/Iron Maiden etc is about 6:1. As for issue #2: Klosterman says that male rock audiences are more faithful than women, and that men are more analytical about music and appreciate it past the emotional response. If this is not an incredibly sexist remark (and completely stereotypical and untrue in my experience), I don't know what is. He makes multiple references throughout the book to women as "whores", "hookers" and rock "bitches". He says he is baffled by feminists, and that if heavy metal was sexist, "what's the big deal?" because when art is "stupid", it can't really be harmful- an incredibly weak argument and copout at once. In this passage, he also is implying that feminists would never be heavy metal fans, which again demonstrates his ignorance about women. Later, he even goes so far as to say that more men probably purchased "riotgrrl" era music than women, because men are willing to spend more on music. And at one point, he says that "Ani DeFranco (sic) is trying a little too hard to look ugly". Such a predictable dig from this guy, and just not witty at all.

Issue #3: Klosterman says that talking about music is more exciting than listening to it. What?!? At one point he compares PJ Harvey to Yo La Tengo, implying that fans of one must like the other which I found to be a very strange comparison. Klosterman says that rock bands should focus on the commercial, and not try to make us think. He says that Danzig (the band) was the first legitimate band that Glenn Danzig was a member of. Klosterman says that he wouldn't take any "desert island discs" with him if he were in such a predicament, because "music isn't really essential to survival". Well sure, not literally. But if you are a rock critic who chooses to center your life around the subject, I would think it would be pretty damn important to you. Finally at one point he says that Firehouse's "Don't Treat Me Bad" is one of the 40 best songs by an American artist. And no, he's not being sarcastic.

More rock criticism than memoir, Fargo Rock City still ended up being a very personal account of Klosterman's tastes and memories associated with hair metal. No, it wasn't all bad, hence the 2 star rating. But it took me serious effort to finish this one, and overall the multiple negative references toward women left a really bad taste in my mouth. Plus, I just don't think he has great taste in music-but that's just my opinion! :)

[Paul · Rating 3 out of 5]

Review to follow.

[Carl · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's something about Chuck Klosterman's writing that I literally eat up. I blew through this book in two days, ignoring my job, TV, and my girlfriend in the process. It felt like a vacation from normal book reading because I wasn't studying some socially relevant topic I'd recently deemed important to know, I was reading critical analysis of popular music that I can't help but love and obsess over. CK is perfect for guys like me: the kind of guy that tells himself he's got to read 50 more pages of whatever non-fiction book he's set his mind to finishing so that he can reward himself by getting high and watching a movie, alone. These guys like to think analytically, but sometimes they wish it could just be about Saved By The Bell or the video for Metallica's "One". This book (and his others, I've read all the others) fills that need in (the ace of) spades.

Reading this book felt like being at a party where you really didn't know too many people but you agreed to go because it was Friday and it was time to get drunk. There was good beer and after gulping half of the first beer you strike up a conversation with a stranger about the all that was metal during the decade you were in the single digits. Next thing you know, this guy's talking at length and seems to be making perfect fucking sense and your contribution to the conversation consists mostly of laughing out loud and introducing topics that he runs with. You then become mildly embarassed that you've spent the duration of the party talking to a dude you just met about 1980s cock rock. Afterwards you tell your friends of all the insights this guy seemed to possess but as you're telling them you become less impressed by the shit he came up with, and you're friends certainly aren't impressed. Still, you know you had fun, and this guy made sense. Quite the heavy metal odyseey indeed.

[Kristel · Rating 4 out of 5]

Klosterman declares early on that he wants to confront two of the most egregious accusations hurled at heavy metal: that 1) it is frivolous and disposable (therefore “not art”), and 2) it is offensive and dangerous. He argues that these two sentiments can’t both be true at the same time. Becoming a danger presupposes a potency that contradicts frivolity. It may not be elevating art but heavy metal mattered, particularly to the crop of hormonal teenagers of post-Reagan Middle America.

Every chapter starts out with a “milestone” date, which makes probably people assume that the book is going to be a linear narrative. Instead they end up with what The New York Times called a “part memoir, part barstool rant.” The dates are merely touchstones from which Klosterman can riff, using everything from garish album covers to committing ATM fraud in trying to explain why a musical genre that many people would rather consider an aberration meant so much to him.

And then we came to the part about the feminists. In the couple of months that yawned between finishing Fargo Rock City and writing this review, I’ve constantly thought about how I’m supposed to feel about Klosterman’s overwrought attempt at explaining away heavy metal’s tendency towards sexism and objectification. His defense is basically that that because hair bands were so baldfaced about their sexism, they somehow transcended their own objectifying tendencies and became commentaries on sexism. I mean, what? You can’t suddenly transcend sexism by becoming too good at it.

Read more of my review here.

[Dustin · Rating 3 out of 5]

For sheer, tear through the pages readability this could be a "5" for me; for gritting my teeth, shaking my head and thinking "BS" this makes me want to give it a "1"--so I'm splitting the difference and giving it a 3. I've read Klosterman before but never this and metal is a favorite subject of mine. As in other works he's witty, engaging and somewhat inflammatory. But he and what he's writing about are not "metal" in the slightest.

Other reviewers have commented on the gender and sexism issues that are problematic here; like his subject matter, I don't think he's ever "intentionally" sexist and the issues he mentions that may make you think otherwise are worth debating/discussing/engaging with as I'm sure he'd want. But as for his entire supposed subject? He's clueless. He's really discussing hair bands, or pop-metal of the 1980s (really just hard rock when it's said and done). Real metal was being made throughout the time this book covers--thrash, death, black, doom, trad, prog, etc. He rarely (if ever) covers it. This is a personal memoir after all and it's his story so that's fine but there's a lot of mislabeling going on whether intentional or not. He mentions King Diamond as a hair band that no one (including him) would have remembered if not for his discovery of an old VHS tape of late night videos (note: KD are adored by metal fans all over the world to this day). He consistently mixes in Metallica with the hair bands he's talking about but labels them "speed metal" (note--they're the biggest of the "big 4" of THRASH metal), calls Slayer "death metal" (note-another of the big 4 of THRASH), writes off Danzig then segues into "nu-metal" from grunge. Whatever. It's clear he loved mainstream "cock rock" and that's fine. He writes that his subject has never really been covered in a book; he had somewhat of a point at the time of publication but thankfully a few years after this one came out Ian Christe's wonderful "Sound of the Beast" came out and in the decade that followed we've seen a slew of great journalistic and academic meditations on the subject.
I know that my review reads like a nit-picky music nerd rant over "labels" and sub-genres, that's okay. But it'd be like I wrote a book about the NBA and covered the subject of 1990s arcade game "NBA Jam" instead.
As a funny, frustrating, opinionated memoir of a teenage nerd in love with arena rock in the midwest this is a great read. Music history and/or journalism it is not.

[Larry · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hilarious memoir about growing up loving the most reviled music of all time.

[Corey · Rating 4 out of 5]

Chuck Klosterman and his love for heavy metal. I was sold by the title alone. From the first chapter discussion on the definition of "heavy metal" to Klosterman's closing statements about why Motley Crue will forever hold a special place in his heart, I felt as if I was part of a discussion with the author about the importance, or lack thereof, heavy metal has in rock history. I found myself throwing open my computer to listen to obscure Motorhead songs and to re-watch the November Rain music video - trying (in vain) to keep up with Klosterman's in-depth analysis of all things metal. Given that I am no expert on the subject, it was sometimes difficult to follow, and therefore I still rank Chuck Klosterman IV as my favorite of his books. That said, the epilogue (written for the paperback edition) was probably the most relatable part of the entire read. Klosterman responds to critics of his first book, defends lovers of all types of music and shits on the snobs who think people that prefer Van Halen to Sonic Youth are lower on the IQ scale. If there is one thing I hate in this world, it is when people cut in line. But I also really dislike when people cheat during trivia and pretend that they are too good for Poison.

[Mark · Rating 2 out of 5]

"Fargo Rock City" is Chuck Klosterman's first stab at writing more than an album review in SPIN or a story about Marilyn Manson in the Akron Beacon-Journal. And it shows.

The premise is ambitious, and therefore admirable: An entire book about heavy metal from 1980-1990. Essentially, the hair/glam scene that was taking place in Los Angeles and how it all shaped him as a youngster growing up in rural North Dakota.

It's about 100 pages too long and goes horribly askew when he takes heavy metal out of the context of his upbringing and makes his opinions the central focus (mostly the chapter in which he ranks the top albums of the genre and the amount of money it would take for him never to listen to that record ever again).

What's worse is that he worships and rants about Motley Crue and Guns n Roses. Which is fine. But then he makes the argument that glam metal was culturally important because they never wanted to be culturally important. Glam metal is smart because it's stupid.

This round and round gobbledegook, of course, is a tenet in Klosterman's entire philosophy for about everything. But he would redeem himself later with "Sex, Drugs and Cocao Puffs."

[Sandy · Rating 2 out of 5]

As a Chuck Klosterman fan, I'm really disappointed. I realize this was his first book, written 20 years ago, and that is the only reason I bothered to finish it and am not giving it 1 star. I hope he has matured much over those 20 years. his other writing would lead me to believe so, but this was just so disappointing, especially as someone who is a fan of heavy metal too (though I am a fan of a wide variety of music - which apparently makes me untrustworthy in Chuck's eyes, and also as a woman, I apparently can't be a loyal fan either, you know, because I'm obviously so emotional). Warning: this is going to get rambly and be all over the place.

First issue, which he lightly touches on at the beginning - a lot of the bands he discusses are not heavy metal. Bon Jovi is not metal. Van Halen is not metal. The Donnas were not metal. They might have been hair bands (minus the Donnas), they had that much in common with a lot of Heavy Metal, but you weren't supposed to be writing about bands with great 80s hair, you were supposed to be writing about Heavy Metal. I feel like he was so stuck in identifying as a metalhead that he can't just admit that he really liked a few bands that were just basic rock bands. Also, how did you seriously refer to Weezer as "high intensity acid rock"? The book is also less a memoir than it's advertised as. I appreciate his insights, as most of his books are collections of essays, but I thought this was going to to be more about his life growing up with music as the backdrop, and it wasn't.

A lot of his arguments though are half-baked, I feel like he had been having imaginary arguments about his taste in music in his head for years, and then his side of the arguments are what ended up in this book. Then the justification of racism, homophobia, and sexism was just odd, but started to make sense when I accepted the fact that he was definitely sexist, and probably also racist and homophobic himself when he wrote it.

Some mildly annoying things:
Spending a whole book justifying your love for some music that many people would consider awful for very justifiable reasons and explaining why you think their opinion is invalid, and then pissing on other artists yourself. Dissing Bryan Adams was unnecessary. "Critics need to show that heavy metal is stupid in order to validate their own intelligence. If you're going to insist that PJ Harvey and Yo La Tengo are brilliant, the opposite has to suck." Or... hear me out, my two favourite music acts ever are PJ Harvey and Guns n' Roses, maybe, just maybe, you don't have to automatically hate something just because you like something else, but then again, as previously noted, I like a wide variety of music, so I'm not to be trusted. Also fuck you for insinuating that PJ Harvey is NOT brilliant.
Also the comments about how it's hard to discuss Rage Against the Machine without laughing... like, what? Yes, so hard to discuss a band that tackles important social issues in their music without laughing. They are pretty much the least "funny" band on the planet, but okay.
I really, really hate when he shortens the names of bands to a three letter word. Def Leppard becomes Lep, Black Sabbath becomes Sab, Led Zeppelin becomes Zep. It's petty, but it was grating.

Petty issues out of the way, some things that really pissed me off:
The blatant sexism, and not from the music. Seriously Chuck, do better. Your whole spiel about arguing with feminists, and insisting they are generally hypocritical made me roll my eyes. Your shining example is being pro-choice but anti-death penalty. That's not a hypocritical stance - feminist's don't de-value life by advocating for the choice to abort, they just value the actual, already formed life of a woman and their right to bodily autonomy and the ability to make their own medical/health decisions over the potential, hypothetical life that is a fetus. You can't claim that the right to life of one person, or potential person in the case of a fetus, should supercede the rights of the woman and result in forced birth, unless you also want to advocate for forced organ and blood donation as well, after all, don't the people who need a kidney or need blood deserve to live too? But we don't force people to give up their organs against their will for other people the live. I won't even bother getting into the issues with the death penalty. End of that tangent, sorry.

It was good to know that your dislike of Metallica was in large part because they "made witless sorority bitches like speed metal", which made you hate their social ramifications. I mean, heaven forbid you don't just dismiss an entire group of women with a misogynistic label and then use your hatred of those women to justify your dislike of a band, simply because you can't possibly have anything in common with those kind of women, including liking the same music.

Referring to the woman in Veruca Salt as "righteous rock bitches" and then following it up in the same sentence by calling them both sniveling and referring to one of them as a "prima donna". Seriously dude, fuck you. You apparently can't even give a compliment to women whose music you like without simultaneously tearing them down for being women.

After all of that, I should have not have been surprised when he holds Ted Nugent up as some political hero, saying his take on "all the liberal, leftist bullshit in refreshing." Which, 20 years ago, was mostly like "hey, don't hate on people who have a different skin colour than you, or are gay, and while you're at it, how about we don't allow the male bosses to smack their female employees on the ass as a way to say great job? and maybe we could consider not handing out guns like they are promotional flyers?"

When he weirdly dismisses dolphins as not being intelligent, then insists on comparing a person as intelligent as a dolphin to a "fucking retard", I was absolutely floored. Even by late 90's the word retard was not considerable acceptable to throw around as a slur, I can't believe this made it to print with that intact. Plus, it's fucking science dude not some wacky opinion, we know dolphins are provably extremely intelligent.

Wildly changing gears in the pissing me off lane: how in the world can you be such a big Guns n' Roses fan, and include a whole section analyzing their trilogy of music videos in your book, without actually knowing/researching the fact that they weren't fantasized out of nowhere by Axl, but were inspired by a short story by Del James? It might have helped clear up some of your confusion about them and what was supposed to be happening.

The entire chapter where he glorifies his apparent alcoholism and clearly includes it because he thinks it makes him look cool (which he does seem to readily admit) just pissed me off. After some googling, he either is/was not an alcoholic or he's just still actively drinking and still thinking it's cool. I really hate it when people either make jokes about being alcoholics or make out like it's a cool personality quirk. The fact that he later goes on to make some weird judgments about Fieldy from Korn talking about drinking everyday and being alcoholics but it not being a problem and not seeing the irony based on his own comments about his drinking... it's just so lacking in self awareness.

He does become so close to self awareness sometimes though. Like when he says, "I constantly find myself defending depraved, socially reprehensible material, mostly because I genuinely support all of it." I also appreciate near the end where he says "when I read my high school journal and realize what a homophobic, racist, sexist, and genuinely unlikeable person I was..." haha, was?!

Again, 20 years later, I really hope I'm not wrong that he's matured, and that it's not just a good editor who has taken out all of the offensive parts of his subsequent books, because I really enjoyed them and would hate to be a fan or supporter of the person he was twenty years ago. I am just going to say that I would not want someone to judge me now based on some stupid stuff I thought twenty years ago, but I was also a teenager and he was pushy 30 already at the time. Still, I can't bring myself to dismiss him now based on this book, I just have to believe that over time he has learned and matured and grown into a better person.

[Jason Béliveau · Rating 4 out of 5]

Je ne connais absolument rien au sujet du glam hard rock/heavy metal (was - still is - way too hipster for that), mais cette analyse appréciative de cette curiosité musicale par Chuck « real life le gars dans High Fidelity » Klosterman me faisait de l’oeil depuis une quinzaine d’années. Suis un gros fan de tout ce qui touche la pop culture, le gars connait son shit, suis critique aussi : tout était là pour que je dévore ça en trous jours. Mais ouain, pense que si t’avais pas 15 ans en 1988 jamais cette musique va te parler. Mais c’est essentiellement la même chose que si j’écrivais un livre sur mon rapport à Korn et Deftones en 1998.

[Elan DeCarlo · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was a skim read. I adore Chuck and will read everything he publishes but I just dgaf about heavy metal. His anecdote towards the end about his collegiate newspaper experience and relationship to the pressures of alcohol was excellent

[Mike Schaefer · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really like Chuck Klosterman. I don't really care a ton about heavy metal music. Several parts of this were really interesting, but because my general knowledge and interest in heavy metal is pretty low, parts of it dragged for me.

Still, happier having read it than not.

[Matthew Pennell · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a fellow fan of big-haired, hard-living 80s metal bands there was a lot to like about this book - unfortunately though it shows its age when some of the author's less savoury opinions shine through.

[Scott Pfahler · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is a book I’ve been meaning to read for years, because it just seemed like a book I would obviously enjoy. But honestly it was really disappointing. It’s possible I missed the window of time when I might actually have enjoyed it, I don’t know.
It’s hard to say exactly what doesn’t work about this book. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention what a lot of other reviewers have mentioned: the rampant sexism. There’s a lot of talk of “whores” and “bitches” which I’m sure some people (and possibly the author) would argue is par for the course given the subject matter. I think Klosterman uses these words because he knows that’s how (at least stereotypically) glam metal fans and artists refer to women. I’m sure he’d even say he’s using these terms humorously, to poke fun at the absurdity of 80s glam and hair metal. I kept hoping there’d be some kind of reckoning with the sexism in metal, but it never came. That’s not to say that Klosterman needs to justify or make excuses for metal’s misogyny in order for it to still be “important.” But it’s the elephant in the room that he mentions and never truly tackles. Which makes it really hard to excuse his use of sexist terminology. Also, for good measure, at one point he casually makes use of the proverbial “R word” which was so completely unnecessary I honestly nearly put the book down for good.
But setting that aside, I think I was maybe most disappointed with how little substance the book actually had. To be fair, it’s not really meant to be a serious musicological affair at all. Seemingly the intent is to be more of a humorous memoir about a kid growing up as a metal fan in a small Midwestern town, and how his love of that music shaped and defined a large part of his early life. While I can’t necessarily relate to being a metal fan, I can relate to the rest because my own life has quite a few parallels to Klosterman’s. But his telling of this story just fell flat for me. There were a few mildly humorous moments, but not as many as I had hoped. And while I didn’t expect Klosterman to convert me into a metal fan, I did expect to at least get a sense of why he is, or why that music had meaning to him. I honestly never did. As much praise as Klosterman gets for his writing, his central thesis never seemed to coalesce for me. It’s clear that he wants you to understand that glam metal meant a lot to him and millions of other adolescents in the 70s, 80s, and 90s. And it’s clear that he wants you to know that it was important in spite of or perhaps because of its crassness. But what isn’t clear is WHY. I don’t disagree with this premise at all, but apart from a somewhat anti-intellectual aesthetic that he seems to enjoy, Klosterman falls flat when it comes to articulating what makes this music special. I honestly was looking forward to hearing a humorous take on what there is to love about glam and hair metal, but this book failed to deliver.

[Mary · Rating 3 out of 5]

Much of this book is entertaining -- Klosterman writes about heavy metal with a lot of wit and insight that's fun to read...especially because I'm not a metal fan. If I felt strongly about any of these bands, all his potificating probably would have gotten kind of annoying. Also, he can be hilarious, but can, on the same page, be overly detailed and completely lose the thread.

One of his points is how the metal audience is integral to the experience, and I think he still identifies rather strongly with the bands. He meticulously argues how much of the metal band's standard provocation was artifice rather than conviction -- Ozzy wasn't a satanist, Iron Maiden's geeky classical-music-influenced rock was tarted up with evil symbols by record label, etc. But he takes a bunch of random, unjustified pokes at feminists, hippies, the Peace Corps, Tipper Gore, you name it. It's sort of weird. He gets all heady about metal, letting us inside his adolescent brain and really bringing to life the experience of a rural North Dakota farm kid/heavy metal fan. He's not trying to gloss over any of his teenage awkwardness either. But once he tries to place his own experiences in a context, everything he doesn't have direct experience with becomes sort of two-dimensional.

I read a profile of him in Salon that was revealing. The author described him as "kind of hard to know" and "emotionally detached." She asks him if he's autistic or has Asperger's (he was not offended but amused by the questions). I think he's one of a class of Midwestern guys who live in their heads and not so much inside the rest of their bodies. They are often articulate, smart, and funny, but not particularly observant of what's happening around them. They are hard to connect with and lack some serious empathy. I think Klosterman can parse the hell out of his own experiences and, better yet, communicate them to us so clearly, it feels like we're there. But we're not really there. He's keeping us at arms length.

I do appreciate his unabashed love for '80s metal, even if he did feel the need to write a whole book defending it. He writes in his epilogue: "How can the music that was the soundtrack to the lives of so many teenagers not be culturally important?" It's kind of endearing.

[Aurora Dimitre · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is written by a guy from small-town North Dakota who loved 80's heavy metal. I am a girl from small-town North Dakota who loves 80's heavy metal. Granted, Klosterman's hometown is larger than mine (as of right now, 429 to 87, yeah, there were four kids in my graduating class), but when you're under like, a thousand it doesn't even matter. And to be honest, the North Dakota connections were cool, but more than that, Klosterman has found that perfect way to explain bands like Motley Crue, and also, while he does have affection for Poison (who had one good song, maybe ), he doesn't ignore Warrant, which is cool. I really liked getting all of the references, even if he, for all of his G'n'R proselytizing, Steven Adler's name is mentioned like, once, and those drum tracks were the entire reason that first album is like one of the greatest albums of all time, it's nothing without those drums.

Anyway. Klosterman also agrees with me that heavy metal's just sexy, man. He doesn't get as far deep into that as I would have, but he does clutch a little at it being something about the beat and tempo and everything (listen to those piercing guitars in the Scorpions' "Rock You Like a Hurricane" and tell me it's not the sexiest thing you've ever heard), so that's chill.

Also, this made me go back to my eBay days of scavenging for heavy metal tapes, so, thanks, Chuck.

[Abraham · Rating 5 out of 5]

Uno de esos libros con los que pude sentir una identificación inmediata desde las primeras páginas. Compartir experiencias con un autor puede ser la mejor manera de entender un libro. Si esto se hace desde la música, mejor aún. Y siendo este libro parcialmente autobiográfico, pues es perfecto.

No solamente se trata de compartir visiones sobre un género normalmente despreciado y desestimado por críticos y fans "serios" del rock (hablo del pop metal ochentero o "hair metal"). La parte de crecer con Mötley Crüe, Guns N' Roses y otros grupos de la época en un pueblito donde se oye cualquier otra cosa excepto ese tipo de música fue con lo que más me identifiqué. Klosterman creció en un pueblo mucho más pequeño que el mío, pero a pesar de ese aislamiento disfrutó de los grupos en su época de auge. Yo lo viví muchos años después, después de la explosión del grunge. En ese sentido, se comparte el sentimiento de ser una especie de "outsider".

Es un libro divertidísimo y plagado de citas y referencias musicales. Creo que la parte más importante es que logra mostrar, aún a quien no sea fan del género, el porqué esa música sí fue importante y, de muchas formas, sigue siéndolo para muchos, entre los que me incluyo.

[Eric Kalenze · Rating 4 out of 5]

Should be five stars for the amount I enjoyed it, but I save five-star ratings for books that somehow change the way I think of things from the point of reading onward.

This book didn't do that, but it certainly could have if, well, it hadn't so thoroughly REFLECTED my life: guy from rural ND (attended UND, as a matter of fact, which is in my hometown--I could take you straight to all the party houses he mentions in the book's later stages), was in his early teens as metal was exploding, spends lots of time thinking about the personal & social impacts of things like metal (it's valuable to me, okay?!), and on and on and on.

I am heavily recommending it to my wife, however, who shakes her head and endures my late-Friday and late-Saturday nights watching 'That Metal Show' on VH1 Classic. If any book might give her a peek into why I'm still so drawn to those bands, that time, and that place in my life, this would be it. (Plus, I know she'll laugh a lot when she reads it, and I love it when she laughs.)

Bravo, CK. Thanks for a great read. (And thanks to Lars Ostrom for recommending.)

[RandomAnthony · Rating 4 out of 5]

I grew up in Chicago, another urban heavy metal bastion, so I can relate to Mr. Klosterman's love/embarassment/love relationship with Marshall stacks and singers who screech like castratos. Klosterman does a great job of describing how he first discovered metal, what drew him to the music, and why he likes what he likes. Also, he loves TALKING about music, and if you love music, you probably like talking about music almost as much as listening to music. Klosterman gets it. There's a great story here, for metal fans, non-metal fans, and former metal fans like myself. Don't be embarassed. I won't tell anyone you used to have a Metallica t-shirt. Read the book.

[Sharon · Rating 2 out of 5]

The author overanalyzes and trashes rock music (oh excuse me Mr. Klosterman, "heavy metal") so much that it's hard to believe he supports it as much as he claims. This book could have been named after any U.S. city, because it's NOT "a heavy metal odyssey in rural North Dakota" as promised. The author shares a few personal stories related to small town life and music, but the majority of the book is essays defining heavy metal (zzzzzz) and separating (based on Klosterman's tastes, opinions and prejudices) bands into good and bad. The kids wanna rock! They don't want to be criticized and mocked.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

Don't expect a straight-up memoir, this is a mix of memoir and Klosterman's legitimate work as a music critic. And don't even attempt this if you're not really interested in hair bands! But if, like me, you grew up in rural America listening to hair bands with a straight face, even though you had no explanation as to why you thought you could relate to debauched sleezeballs from Los Angeles, well...

I like Klosterman, and there are great "early Klosterman" stories in here that explain how he came to be who he is today. He makes himself incredibly vulnerable by the tales he chose to include. The examination of the music is in depth but still hilarious. I guess the bottom line is: most people who loved hair metal know we should be embarrassed, but it was still formative for us as hormonal junior high boys (& let's face it these bands' fan base really was 90% males orbiting the legal draft age).

After the funny journey this book is, I love the way Chuck sums it up:
"We all want to be cool, and it's hard for some of us to admit we're not. When I tell people I came from a town that didn't have a single stoplight, I make myself smile, even though I don't know why this is funny (or why it should be embarrassing). When I admit that I spent many nights assuming I would die a virgin, I act like I'm being self-deprecating, even though I'm mostly being honest. When I remember how confused I was while I drove up and down the empty streets of my snow-packed hometown, I try to be wistful, even though I f***ing hated having no one to talk to [...] Hair metal was a wormhole for every Midwestern kid who was too naive to understand why he wasn't happy."

So there is something deep about Hair bands.

[Bryan Hovey · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book was a mixed bag for me and a labor of love to read. At times I couldn't put it down and at other times I didn't want to pick it back up. The writing is really good and there are some great stories that remind me of things and decisions I made when I was much younger. The ATM story is pretty good stuff. With that said - you take an opinionated music lover and have them read a book written by an opinionated music lover, there are bound to be some hard feelings. I don't agree with some of the opinions and speculations Chuck shares with regards to the "how" and the "why" of the music but there are a lot I do agree with. After finishing the book and reading the epilogue I have to say that Chuck wrote his truth and accomplished what he set out to do by writing Fargo Rock City. He's not out to convince anyone of anything other than 80s metal is and was relevant to many of us who enjoyed it then and now. I'm a little older than Chuck so for me it's the soundtrack to my late teens and early twenties. For him it starts in middle school. I'd love to sit down with him and drink a few beers and listen to some old vinyl.

[Reid Belew · Rating 4 out of 5]

3.5/5.

Quintessential Klosterman, who at his best, might be my favorite writer.

This book is difficult to evaluate. The organization and structure of the book do it no favors. It’s never clear if this is a selection of essays that are unrelated (even though they are all entirely about 80’s metal), or if there is some sort of linear trajectory.

This book seems scattered, and even though it is boiling over with Klosterman goodness, it’s a bit of a chore to read, especially as the book goes on.

Klosterman was pretty young when he wrote this, and his immaturity shows. He has a few weird passages comparing and contrasting men and women that clearly show views he doesn’t hold anymore.

It’s good. But his other stuff is lightyears ahead.

[Carlox · Rating 4 out of 5]

More than reviving mainstream metal, this book awakened many journalists on how to look at certain subjects: not everything has to be written as a Wikipedia article. Klosterman is divisive for many reasons, but the most relevant one is that he will present anything on his terms and his terms only.

His love for metal and his dorky humor is not for everyone, granted, but this kind of books should not be like that. It's a book about "rebellious" kids following their "rebellious" rockstars' footsteps and later finding out that there was nothing of value there when Nirvana hit the shelves.

But there's still some insight in this book, which is the reason why it has inspired since I picked it up many times since 2018. Glam metal stars were both stvpid and smart. They were capitalists that lived to their maximum potential and then were treated as cl0wns (most still are, thankfully) and America loves watching this type of people rise and fall. Klosterman picks up the pieces and decides this is book-worthy, that their music might be bad, but what it caused back then was worth putting in a hardcover. That's totally my jam, dude.

[Geoff · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really liked this look into 'metal' music. And I realize its problematic to put metal into quotations as one of the major questions of the book is "What is metal?". And I agree, its so hard to categorize music into genres and, in my opinion, metal is nearly impossible.

It was odd he included "...And Justice for All" as his choice Metallica record from the 80s. But Klosterman makes it clear he's not really a Metallica fan. He's really a glam/hair metal fan (dare I say, he's more a fan of hard rock than 'metal).

[Ryan · Rating 2 out of 5]

If someone attempts to defend the music they listened to in high school, don't listen. No matter what. And yet, on a recent road trip, I found this station that played all this music from when I was in high school. It was the best part of the road trip -- for me, at least. I could go on about it for another 270 pages!

[Ace Boggess · Rating 4 out of 5]

Yes. Just yes.