Why doesn’t ska get its due as a rich, diverse genre the way punk, metal, hip-hop and electronic music does? Or more to the point, why are ska fans so embarrassed of this music they love? The era of ska shame is officially over. In Defense of Ska is the much-needed response to years of ska-mockery. No longer do ska fans need to hide in the basement, skanking alone in their sharp suits, slim ties and porkpie hats. Now the time to take to the streets and fight music snobbery, or at least crank up the ska without being teased ruthlessly.
In a mix of interviews, essays, personal stories, historical snapshots, obscure anecdotes, and think pieces, In Defense of Ska dissects, analyzes and celebrates ska in exactly the way fans have been craving for decades. This book will enlist ska-lovers as soldiers in the ska army, and challenge ska-haters’ prejudices to the core.
Aaron Carnes is a music journalist based out of Northern California. His work has appeared in Playboy, Salon, Noisey, Bandcamp Daily, Sun Magazine, Sierra Club Magazine, and Ozy. He’s also the music editor at Good Times weekly newspaper in Santa Cruz, CA.
Aaron has covered a wide range of artists, including indie hip-hop legends like Blackalicious, Cannibal Ox, Hobo Johnson, and Open Mike Eagle to notable rock and roll artists like Portugal The Man, Jeff Rosenstock, Phoebe Bridgers, and Smash Mouth. He’s interviewed soul icon Sharon Jones, ’90s ska hitmakers Reel Big Fish, and has chatted with several folks on the fringe like Tim Capello (Saxman from Lost Boys), S U R V I V E (synth band that scored Stranger Things), and Okilly Dokilly (Ned Flanders themed metal band)
His music journalism has led him to explore interesting corners of the world. He’s sat in with Google’s AI team in San Francisco to learn how computers create music, He’s traveled down to LA with Ahmed Zappa to learn about live hologram concerts, he’s spent the day in prison with jazz guitarist Henry Robinet to see how inmates respond to weekly guitar lessons, and he’s visited the homes of musicians in the Santa Cruz Mountains that lost their homes to the CZU Fire.
In 2021, he releases his book, In Defense Of Ska, the product of 117 interviews, never-ending research, and several years of tireless work. For this book, he rejects the tired narrative that ska is silly kid music and set out to not only tell its story but to defend the genre’s right to stand alongside other notable genres such as alt-rock, punk, hip-hop, R&B, and metal.
I really loved this book—I was a diehard ska kid in the mid to late 90s and early 2000s so it was basically written for me, specifically. So many bands I love and saw live are mentioned in this book and I loved hearing more of the history about how they came to be and relationships between bands and the overall scene. The history of the genre is really in depth and covers many years and a large geographical area. This book made me very happy.
That said, it’s so, so poorly organized. It jumps all over the place chronologically and in terms of subject matter—you’ll get an in-depth look at one band and move on to the next only to come back around to that band or musician a couple chapters later with no rhyme or reason. It moves back and forth between decades with no clear structure. Some parts are very repetitive. Several bands are mentioned over and over, based, it seems, purely on the author’s familiarity or love of that band, rather than their impact on the scene or their overall popularity. There’s a lot of focus on the author’s personal experience scattered through, memoir-like. It clearly was not copy edited as there are grammatical, punctuation, and spacing errors scattered throughout. It will be hard for anyone who doesn’t already love ska to read this and put up with these things, which disappoints me.
Note : this is a review of the first addition. Perhaps the second edition has addressed some of the points I addressed.
I really, really wanted to like this book more, but unfortunately I couldn’t. There are tons of great nuggets throughout the book, which is awesome and entertaining, but the presentation was just horrible. It appears to have not been edited or proofread at all.
One page had the same exact sentence two times in a row. Forgivable if this were the only slip. Unfortunately it wasn’t. Another chapter was so poorly written I decided to stop reading, thinking I might have had too much to drink that evening (two beers.) The next day I re-read the entire section only to find it wasn’t my state of mind, it was the state of writing.
Page 210 had the sentence, ‘Mods originally were a 60’s subculture linked to stylish ‘ Stylish what!!?? Where’s the rest of the sentence. There’s not even a period?
At another point there was a clarification of Reel Big Fish as a popular band in regards to some other ska band being mentioned. No problem, except there had already been an entire section titled, ‘Defending Reel Big Fish.’ (Which got the name of RBF’s second major full length wrong but on the same page got it correct roughly two paragraphs later.) Does the author think we would have forgotten who RBF are later in the book? Conversely, he would toss in the nickname or last name of random obscure musicians with no context as if they were household names such as Madonna or Michael Jackson.
There were moments reading this book that felt like I had asked an elderly person about something, and they would regale me with great memories as if it was yesterday, then slip into Alzheimer’s with a stream of consciousness not even said elderly person could follow, only to eventually return to awareness and finish some other random anecdote as if everything was connected.
I am glad I read this book, and it’s clear the author knows a lot on the subject, but, if this were a true ‘Defense of Ska’ it could use a little more than seven paragraphs and two photographs over four pages as a History of Ska, even if it was prefaced with the chapter title, ‘A Very Brief History of Ska.’
There’s a lot to be said in this book, and a lot of it is said, but in a disjointed, unorganized fashion.
If I didn’t enjoy random anecdotes about small bands I grew up loving I would have probably given this book only one star, and if I didn’t already love ska, I’m not sure that I would be convinced to give it much of a try. Hell, a simple list of top three ‘must listens’ per sub-genre would have been great, and clearly ‘Carne’ (as some friends affectionately call the author) knows enough to be a reliable authority on such a list…but alas, that was a missed opportunity, much like this book.
To borrow a phrase from my dad, this book “made my ass tired.” No, I don’t know exactly what that phrase means and I never have, but it feels right. I only didn’t DNF this as it was fun to hate-read. As a long time fan of ska, I don’t know that I agree with the premise that ska needs a defense, but if it does, this ain’t it.
Alternate Title could be : In Defensiveness About Ska: Citation Needed
In addition to the poor writing, the poor editing, the lack of any sort of reference to any sources, this book just doesn’t know what the hell it wants to be. I could get behind it a little more if the author just wanted to put together a memoir of his experiences touring as part of the crew of ska bands and as a member, the stories about what that were like were some of the best parts, but then the poor style still applies.
Overall, the author doesn’t know whether he hates the “Pitchfork set” who he thinks look down on anyone who ever loved ska music, whether he also wants to look down on any ska music that isn’t the same as the kind that he appreciates, or if he desperately still wants them to think he’s cool. High school is over, my friend. None of us are cool anymore.
I don't read too many non-fiction books, but being a huge fan of the titular musical genre, I couldn't pass this book up. It's a very thorough history of the ska scene during the late twentieth century and beyond. Many of the bands and stories mentioned in this book were enlightening, and moreover I loved reading about the many bands I grew up listening to and skanking along with. As one the few proud fans of a musical genre that has become the butt of too many jokes, it's refreshing and encouraging to read about so many people out there who feel the same way. The companion podcast for this book has also been great, so I'll conclude this review the same way they do on their show by saying, "Ska now, more than ever!" Thank you, Aaron.
В цілому - досить цікава книга для ньюкамерів у жанрі (таких як я). Багато інформації про ска-сцену США, трошки менше про Британію, і зовсім трошки про Мексику. Книга містить багато цікавих анекдотів, турових історій, історій певних пісень (наприклад Ska Sucks пропаганді), історій певних субкультур, як то SHARP і так далі. Разом з тим все це трошки хаотично, про одні і ті самі гурти йдеться наприклад на початку, а потім в кінці. Певна частина приділена гурту Flat Planet, де грав автор книги - з одного боку це можливість подивитись на сцену зсередини, з іншого боку читати про нонейм гурт не дуже цікаво. Але в цілому скажу, що мені сподобалось і я багато альбомів собі додав у бібліотеку. Pick it up pick it up!
Fantastic blend of ska history, personal essays and insights into an underrepresented and misunderstood subculture. As funny as it is informative and puts the screws to ska naysayers! Would highly recommend for anyone who enjoys music journalism, history and counter cultures. Might even give you a new perspective on ska in the 90’s, what influenced third wave and how younger bands are rewriting that narrative now. Not my typical, snarky,ding dong review of a book but that’s only because this book is sincerely really good and deserves the praise! A+ work!
A great read whether you love ska or hate ska. Carnes does a good job presenting the origin of this much misunderstood and maligned music while following it's evolution up to the modern day including the scenes now booming in Mexico and elsewhere around the world. I'm a lifelong ska fan but I finished this book with a better understanding of several phases of Ska that I'd previously dismissed. In Defense of Ska slapped the purist out of me. Carnes is an experienced music journalist as well as a former drummer in a touring ska band and the perspective he brings to the task of defending ska pays off. Spoiler: Ska rules!
If you were in it and get it, you’ll love this book. I was grateful for the ska/ punk scene at the time and this book brought it all back. I truly appreciate all of these bands, all ages shows, and all the weirdos I met and am still friends with today.
even though i didn't play in a band, this hit exactly the same sort of feels i got from watching 'pick it up,' the '90s ska doc from a couple of years back. it addresses every thought i've had, talks to all the people i would've, and makes connections between things which feel like carnes was inside my checkboard brain the whole time i was growing up. mixing his personal experiences with interesting historical tidbits, and coming all the way up to the present, the author has crafted what might not be the authoritative history of the ska genre, but certainly the most accessible and entertaining overview of it.
It’s not devoid of content, but it’s meandering and sloppy and only manages to reinforce my existing feelings: that first and second wave ska are interesting and cool and third wave ska is 99.9% cringe.
When your argument about “silly music” comes down to a claim that TMBG, Weird Al, and fucking Devo are some of the best acts of recent decades, you’ve lost the plot, badly. My opinions vary on these acts from “truly the best novelty music” to “Devo’s catalog should be deleted” with “They might be OK” in between, but they have one common element: they’re a real fuckin’ on the nose indicator of the sorts of things that the author of wildly defensive ska apologia thinks of as “legitimate art.” And if you think that sentence is tortuous, wait til you read some of these. Yikes!
Doesn't really hit any of the marks it's aiming for. Hyper-defensive about criticism, but doesn't really "defend" the genre; it's more of a history. Contains anecdotes the author should be embarrassed by, but instead brags about. Does touch a bit on the Mexican ska scene toward the end, which is neat, but even then it's pretty light. Might have been nice to explore other countries a little too.
Apparently Goodreads has a length limit for reviews, and I went beyond it. Oops. Here’s the edited version of my original review that was taken down. Yes, this is shorter than what I originally wrote.
Did you know Oscar Isaac (Poe Dameron in Star Wars: The Force Awakens) used to be in a ska band? Did you know Brandon Flowers of the Killers once called out The Bravery for starting out as a ska band (and that this was supposed to be a huge diss)? Did Brandon Flowers know at the time that even the drummer of his own band was once in a ska band?
Ska originated in the ghettos of West Kingston, Jamaica during the 1950s. 2 Tone Ska was the resurface in England in the late 70s (with bands like The Specials, Madness, etc.). Then, the inaptly named "Third Wave" occurred in the mid-90s U.S. This "Third Wave" was really the continuation of the ska genre, or movement (or "way of life", as Carnes calls it). Ska music, and fans of the genre, never went away. The waves are only in reference to the relative surges in popularity in the culture—especially the mainstream. Although Carnes is clearly not a fan of the "wave" label, he predicts that if there is a current-day cresting in popularity that might soon be labelled the "Fourth Wave", it's happening in México.
About seven decades from the inception of the genre in Jamaica, Sacramento, California based music writer Aaron Carnes offers us this book of history, definition, nostalgia, reclamation, and praise. In Defense of Ska was published in 2021 by independent literary press Clash Books, who "put the lit in literary".
Aaron Carnes played drums in Flat Planet, a ska band from Gilroy, California that was active in the 90s. Other than being a ska band member himself back in the day, Carnes did his due journalistic research, interviewing many people from the ska and DIY punk scenes for the making of this book. He has authority of his own, but he also does a lot to give credit where credit is due. He gives credit and attention to particular artists, bands, promoters, venues, and fans. Another example is that Carnes highlights the importance of some early ska compilations, in the 90s ska-punk scene especially. "A lot of people think that it was Tony Hawk that did a lot for us," says The Suicide Machines’ Jason Navarro. "Misfits of Ska, that shit put us on the map." Misfits of Ska was one of these ska compilations, released in 1997.
The foreword by the legendary (in my book [& in this one]) Jeff Rosenstock is straight-forward, in-your-face, romantic, and positive as hell. Here's what he has to say about Carnes' Defense of Ska: "It's like no other music history retrospective I've ever read. It holds nothing but ska—the most disregarded genre of music—in regard. And it doesn't hold back any punches."
The book is made up of twenty-seven chapters. One of those, titled "Ska is Dead", goes over Rosenstock's own upholding of ska tradition, as well as his progressive punk pushing of it into the future. Rosenstock is known from bands like the Arrogant Sons of Bitches and "schizophrenic cult punk band" Bomb The Music Industry!. BtMI! (which is not a medical abbreviation for Bowel to Mouth Infection! but the way that I’m abbreviating that second band) gave away their music for free on the internet in the early 2000s, right before Radiohead made that practice "cool" with their 2007 release of the album In Rainbows. In the 2010s, Jeff Rosenstock put out a string of great solo records: 2012's I Look Like Shit, 2015's We Cool?, 2016's WORRY., and 2018's POST-. Starting off the new decade, Rosenstock put out NO DREAM in 2020, then reimagined the whole album as a ska album in 2021. He literally redid the whole record—a song-for-song ska reworking of each individual track. In my opinion, it made the album a lot better. I was legitimately surprised by how much more I liked SKA DREAM compared to NO DREAM. After all, it's the same songs lurking underneath, right? That's the transformative power of ska I suppose. The new decade just might bring us some great things in the ska department. Rosenstock is an inspired choice and a fitting figure-head for forewording Carnes' Defense of Ska.
On that note, let’s get back to the book.
The weirdest thing about how In Defense of Ska is written is the content's dissonance with its title. It is a defense of the merits and influence of the genre in many ways, but it's not written for the people attacking ska. It's not written for people who don't know much about ska but avoid the genre because they overhear the undeserved hate it gets throughout the culture. No, In Defense of Ska is written for ska fans. It's written for people who already enjoy it and people who may already be defending it. In this way, I think the book misses its aim.
Or, maybe it's supposed to lend some more information to ska fans who want persuasive evidence to use in their own arguments in defense of ska. If this is the aim of the book, it does a better job in that regard. It's still not great though. Many passages in Carnes' book, especially in the middle area, are more nostalgic (especially for ska insiders) than informative, persuasive, or even classifiable as an argument. Still, if an open-minded reader picks up this book while knowing little to nothing about ska music going into it, they will probably learn a good amount. Plus, nostalgic stories are fun to read, at times. As a ska fan myself—with admittedly low knowledge of the genre’s full history going into this book—I enjoyed reading In Defense of Ska. What bothers me most about the content’s dissonance with the title, though, is that I doubt anyone who dislikes ska will be compelled to pick up this book. And, if they do, I don’t believe they’ll walk away from this reading experience with a changed mind.
There are issues beyond the defense missing its aims.
I take issue with how the chapters are organized. The timeline jumps all over the place, forward and back and back forward again. It’s jarring and weird. It’s needlessly confusing. It makes it less of a page-turner. I don’t see why this overview of ska couldn’t have been presented chronologically. It would have been so simple and logical to read through. It starts off great with the Rosenstock foreword, then a chapter called “First Things First . . .” in which Carnes introduces himself and the topic of the book. He establishes his authority as a music writer and a former drummer of a ska band. In this section he states a hopeful outcome of his book:
“Hopefully, this book will challenge your pre-conceived stereotypes about ska. If nothing else, I hope you can read it with an open mind and realize that you don’t know jack about the genre you confidently hate. Maybe you’ll even learn a few things in the process. Who knows, maybe you’ll even give ska a chance.”
This goes back to my earlier issue with the book not appealing to that intended audience. I highly doubt anyone that confidently hates ska is going to pick up a book called In Defense of Ska (unless they misinterpret the artwork on the cover to read IN DEFENSE OF SKA SUCKS—ignoring the “SUCKS” part being x-ed out by spray paint and therefore thinking the book is a defense of the argument that ska does, in fact, suck).
Anyway, let’s get back to the organization issue. The first chapter after these two introductory sections is titled “A Very Brief History of Ska”. I really appreciated this chapter, but it also made me expect the rest of the book to move in chronological order, from the ghettos of Jamaica in the 1950s to today. It does not move in chronological order at all. Right after this very brief history, the chapters bounce all over the place in terms of time, location, and topic. Perhaps Carnes was trying to make the reader feel the disorientation felt while skanking around in a sweaty mosh pit at a ska-punk show. That’s an interesting idea in theory, but it’s not fun to read.
Moving on to the next big issue with In Defense of Ska: there is an egregious amount of typos. One benefit of publishing with an independent literary press is that you have more freedom to write about niche topics that traditional publishers would avoid (such as a whole book on ska). You may also have more freedom to write in a unique and/or experimental style. One drawback, however, is that you may not have an editor. I don’t know if In Defense of Ska had an editor or not. I don’t see anyone given credit as an editor anywhere in the book. If there was an editor, they should not put this book on their résumé, and they should be grateful that they are not credited as an editor in the opening pages. Seriously, there is an egregious amount of typos.
On page 94: “Ackermann’s favorite meme he ever created is a picture of philosopher Socrates with Operation Ivy’s lyrics for ‘Knowledge,’ which is a few words different that Socrates’ famous quote.”
On page 113, the same exact sentence is printed twice in a row: “He also brought in out of town bands like Phoenix’s underrated ska band X-Streams. He also brought in out of town bands like Phoenix’s underrated ska band X-Streams.”
On page 119, legendary New York Punk venue CBGB is spelled two different ways: “CBGBs had hardcore matinees on Sundays, which did well because, unlike evening shows, matinees were for kids (i.e., all-ages). Hingley thought CGBGs might be where the strewn about bands playing ska could coalesce and flourish.”
On page 123: “Nether The Toasters nor Bim Skala Bim got paid royalties for their albums.”
On page 179: “Lead singer Dan Vitale told them they could use it for free as long as they gave them credit and didn’t forgot them if they ever hit the big time.”
On page 209, a paragraph begins: “Mods originally were a ’60s subculture linked to stylish garage-rock bands like The Who and Small Faces as well as, and copious drug use.” This paragraph continues for another five sentences until we reach the bottom of the page. The top two-thirds of page 210 are taken up by some photos. Then a weird printing/formatting error appears. Below the caption to the photos, part of a previous sentence is reprinted: “Mods originally were a ’60s subculture linked to stylish”—then that line ends without any punctuation or anything and the real next paragraph begins right below that. “L.A. had the biggest mod scene of the U.S. . . .”
On page 230: “One of his most emotionally impactful song is ‘Melbourne’ from his 2012 solo album Around the Word.” [I didn’t catch this in my initial reading, but looking it up now, I see that the actual title of Dan Potthast’s 2012 solo album is Around the World.]
In the chapter “Nancy Reagan”, the group that wrote the song titled “Nancy Reagan” is once spelled “Blue Riddum Band” and then spelled “Blue Riddim Band” right there on the same page. This happens on page 232, and then again on page 235, when it’s spelled “Riddim” first and then “Riddum” in the following paragraph. In this same chapter, Bob Marley is given the same treatment: “Reggae was a cult form of music with Marley a modest figure in the ’70s. Reggae would cross-over into the mainstream in the mid-80s. Marely gained megastar status at the release of his retrospective, Legend, in 1984, three years after his death.” On page 263: “I wanted to know more about Butler’s ska past, so he and I spoke on the phone a year-and-a half after he messaged me to go further go down the ska rabbit-hole.”
On page 279: “The audience members came from the nearby East LA, South Gate, South Central, Boyle Heights, Inglewood and Lynwood neighborhoods, and well as Santa Ana, Inland Empire, and the San Fernando Valley.” [Another thing I’m noticing now is that Carnes abbreviated Los Angeles as “L.A.” earlier and as “LA” here.]
There might be more typos than this. If you find any other mistakes within the pages of In Defense of Ska, send me a message. I will add it to this list, and you will earn a grateful reply from me. Also, if you find any typos in this review, feel free to let me know. This review has no editor.
Writing teachers and tutors where I work generally refer to typos as “lower-order concerns”, and I agree with that. But this book pushes my limits. Typing mistakes are lower-order concerns in early drafts, because that’s when you’re still trying to figure out the big picture stuff: What do I want to write about? How should I narrow my focus? Should I keep this paragraph or cut it out entirely? Should I organize my chapters chronologically? Typing mistakes are lower-order concerns in early drafts because they can be edited later. You can edit out typing mistakes when you’re finalizing things for publication. It’s not that typos and organization issues are unforgivable. The problem is that In Defense of Ska feels like an early draft of a book that could be great.
Interchangeably misspelling Bob Marley’s surname seems like the worst offense to me. It’s annoying when someone misspells your name in an e-mail exchange, especially when it’s right there. Publishing “Marely” in a book, in a sentence about the album released after his death, feels the most disrespectful. Not only that, but these errors, all added together, make the book feel disrespectful to the reader. That probably sounds dramatic, but it does sort of feel that way, doesn’t it?
It’s cool to have a book like this that’s all about ska—just like what Rosenstock wrote. The passion, romance, and fun is all there on the page. Huge props to Aaron Carnes for that. I truly appreciate what he did here with this book.
I learned a good amount about ska in this book, and I discovered some bands that I still need to take time with, digging through their discographies, and likely grooving to a lot of great music. I do believe that ska has merit and cultural value. There’s a lot of great music under the ska genre umbrella that is not only fun to listen to but also infectiously positive, sociopolitically critical, hopeful of a better future, and unapologetically sincere.
Why is ska so enduring and popular for sometimes small but consistent groups of passionate people in cultures all over the globe? In Carnes' own words, "it really boils down to a willingness to love music that moves you, and to not care about what other people think." Although I think Carnes could have cared about the reader more while drafting In Defense of Ska, I really like his sincerity here at the end of the book.
I learned so much from this book. I loved ska since the mid 90s when introduced to the genre, like many people, with bands like No Doubt and the Mighty Mighty Bosstones. Through church friends, I was exposed to the Christian Ska bands Five Iron Frenzy (still a favorite band of mine) and the Supertones.
I have revived my interest in ska in recent years after watching the doc Pick it Up- Ska in the 90s. I have discovered quick favorites like the Aquabats and Voo Doo Glow Skulls seeing them live as a well as Less than Jake and the Slackers. I have checked out many other bands while reading this book. I only wish I had discovered them sooner. If you love music, give this book a read. Ska should never need to be defended.
The theme of being a misfit continually comes up in Aaron Carnes' "In Defense of Ska"--whether those misfits be Filipino skinheads, white reggae bands from St. Louis, or goofy teenagers in Hawaiian shirts. All of them found a home in the world of ska, explored here through a mixture of personal essays, interviews and even a modern-day scene report of Mexico's burgeoning ska scene. This really is a love letter to ska, and ska-punk in particular. I loved Carnes' tales of being in a food-obsessed ska band in the '90s, crossing paths with Skankin' Pickle, and connecting with an obsessive German tape collector. I also really loved the retrospective chapters about Operation Ivy and DIY booking, as well as Carnes' not-so-secret hatred of Millie Small's "My Boy Lollipop" (we really need to stop pretending to like it, ska fans). I also learned about a ton of bands! I'm not sure this book will convince ska haters to stop their messing around, but as a lifelong ska fan and someone who found community within ska, I really loved this book. Pick it up!
Aaron Carnes nailed it. This is such a fun read. Whether you are into ska or not, the stories in the book are amazing. My head is still spinning about the Fat Randy video shoot. Sheesh.
I was also stoked to see so much great writing about the 80’s, a decade in the life of ska that often gets overlooked.
If you think you know it all about your ska subculture, this book will surprise you and most likely fill in some gaps you had no idea were there.. and the best part is that Carnes does it in a joyful way that comes straight from his obvious love of the music. This book was a real treat to read, from the voice of someone who was there and a part of it.
My complaint is that there’s no mention of Imagine Dragons forming out of a Mormon ska band.
Amazing amazing book. The way this book was structured made it addicting and sad to have no more left. There was a perfect balance of personal and academia to this book; all of which I found it easy to trust Aaron’s defense for ska. As someone who’s listened to ska for over 15 years, this uncovered so much I didn’t know and an endless amount of music I didn’t know existed. Easily one of the top music books I’ve read.
Reading this book really helped fill the musical hole in my life formed by the pandemic. Well-researched, smart, funny and beautifully uplifting at just the right moments. I was once shamed into denying my love for ska but this book has taught me to embrace my love of ska!!!
a very comprehensive look on the history of ska and how it has become a staple genre transcending generations and being a stepping stone for some while being a whole world itself, great read that went places I wasn't expecting!
The author spends too much time rehashing his perskacution complex over and over, but if you can ignore that, you'll find the rest of the book to be an excellent oral history of the genre, touching on bands across the spectrums of style and fame. I was particularly happy to read the lengthy chapter on the vibrant LA and Mexico Latino scenes that concluded the book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
First off, I give the author a lot of credit for writing a book aimed at a relatively small group of readers. There are some pretty interesting stories here, especially within the first 150 pages or so. Unfortunately, that's about as positive as I can be about this book. Here are the negatives:
1. The book bounces between a history of ska and the author's memoirs of being in an absolutely terrible ska band. This isn't an exaggeration. Flat Planet was AWFUL. If the author wanted to write a book about his time in Flat Planet or being a roadie for Skankin' Pickle, he should've done so. But his stories distract from the rest of the book and are largely irrelevant and boring.
2. If this book had an editor, that person should be fired and should never edit another book again. This book was all over the place and totally incoherent. Maybe start with an outline next time?
3. The last 200 pages or so are incredibly boring. There are so many stories out there and so many ska bands that I'm sure the author could've written something more interesting than what he did. Really, the book should've ended with the rise of "4th Wave" ska bands. Or when ska fell out of favor big time in the music scene.
Once again, the author deserves credit for this passion project, but this was a pretty disappointing book.
This read like a rough draft. It needed an editor for some serious structure, trimming, and copyediting. But Carnes's joy and love of his subject made it enjoyable reading all the same.
Wonderful encapsulation of the ska scene in America and around the world. The book took a bit of a scattershot approach with essays on various subtopics organized in a non-linear fashion, and some essays focused on the author's experiences with his own band, but I don't think any of that detracted from the "flow" of the book. It never claimed to be a *definitive* history of ska, of course, but rather it examined the value of ska to different segments of society since its inception, which, in sum, form the "defense" of the title - ska is meaningful precisely because it brings joy. It may be derided and misunderstood by some (many?) but the fact that the music makes people happy makes it worthy. Some of the sections on 90s ska-punk and the current U.S. scene were already familiar to someone with my own musical tastes. And I would have liked to read some more about the current U.K. scene as well, since I think there are some terrific bands coming out of there these days, as opposed to the book focusing on the (concededly critically important) 2 Tone era. But it was particularly enlightening to learn more about the mixed-success efforts to break original Jamaican ska in the U.S. before I was even born, and it was heartening and hope-inducing to learn about the current enthusiasm for ska in Mexico (MexSka). The Mexico chapter was also accordingly a great way to close out the book - it left me feeling hopeful that the music will continue to be an outlet for people of all ages, helping them get through stressful times and through difficult political situations. By the end the book had me wanting to purchase an airplane ticket to Mexico City to catch one of these festivals next time around. The book is a really nice, fun read for music fans, regardless of any predisposition or prior experience with ska.
I'm more of a 2 Tone ska sort and wasn't sure what I'd find in the pages of a book that is defending the genre as a whole, but I was enraptured throughout.
Carnes presents a non-linear history of the genre that bounces from the US origins of ska-punk bands before delving into the history of the music in Jamaica and Britain before ending in the popular Mexican scene of present day.
The author's love pours through in this extremely well written book that includes chapters of memoir with his experiences with his own band and ones he loves still. This is where the book hits many of its heights, but the history is illuminating and shows the tangled web of things we are still dealing with to this day. I mean the lyrics sung by many 2 Tone bands could be applicable to today still.
The chapter on skinheads was an eye opener in a positive way as we saw between the lines of that particular fashion instead of the typical stereotype.
This is an impassioned defense that simply asks why Ska is treated as it is especially given its roots beyond reggae. Even if more modern ska has fun, what is so wrong with fun? This book is a lot of fun as well as an education and entertaining memoir.
I will start by clarifying that I love ska, and already loved ska before I started digging into this book. It is no surprise that I love this book, but what Carnes has pieced together is somewhere between memoir and love letter to a genre that prompts a never-ending slew of jokes, memes, and criticisms pointed at it without any real forethought outside of "lol ska sucks". While I was too young to experience the 90's ska scene when it was in its prime, Carnes completely envelops you with his detailed recountings of a chaotic, hilarious, and above all else passionate music scene.
Even as someone who would claim to at least have a baseline knowledge of the genre, there was an incredible amount of history that Carnes brings to light throughout this book that goes way beyond anything I would have even thought to know about ska. A myriad of personal anecdotes mixed with the most impassioned defense of the scene's progressive values, DIY nature, and strength in the underground. Carnes masterfully displays that as goofy as ska can be (and still is at times), it is at its core incredibly political, brilliant, and important.
In the end, ska never died, and if kept in the right hands, it will continue to thrive. This book is essential reading for ska fans and haters alike.
On one hand, this is a great book about a much- (and often undeservedly) maligned genre of music. On the other, it reads a little unevenly. The chapters about the history of ska and its various genre-fusions and scenes in the US and elsewhere in the world are fascinating. The chapters about Carnes' personal experiences in the ska scene of the '80s and '90s are fine, but just not on the same level, some more than others.
I feel like there are two books here, shuffled together. One about the history of ska, in particular, its struggles to find a mainstream foothold, even when it was having its moment in the sun in the mid-'90s. The people who had the power to make it an international phenomenon (more so than it already is), just didn't get it. The second book is Carnes' personal memoirs about discovering, playing, and promoting ska. Both are great concepts and I get why both exist, and I'm glad they do. I'm just not sure they belong together in the same book.
That being said, anyone who likes ska or even rock music journalism should give this a read. Ska fans will be vindicated, and those who are on the fence will hopefully find a reason to dive deeper into a misunderstood genre.
30. I truly expected more from this book after a few of the recent music related books I've read that focused on the genres I enjoyed growing up. The author is a wealth of knowledge, but his sidetracking stories that he finds hilarious and amusing just aren't. 75% of this book is great. When he focused on the genre and how it developed in the UK and America, especially during the 60s, 70s, and 80s, I was hooked. His focus on some of the local scenes, particularly bands in the Midwest, was both informative and nostalgic. The other 25% of the book were just unfunny stories that are of the "you needed to be there" variety, and even then. I don't know that they would have been all that entertaining. I understand the author's focus on his bad and the experiences he had through it, but it was just overwhelming at a couple points where I was just grinding to get to the next chapter so that I could again connect with the better part of the book. Overall, if you were a punk/ska fan in the 90s or still are, this is a pretty good read, especially from a historical aspect. It's just a shame the author overdoes it with unrelated and unfunny stories to break up the good information to be found within. 3/5
Liked this a lot overall. It's exuberant, informative, and Carnes is a pretty good writer. His passion for the genre and immense knowledge and research (including tons of interviews) pops off of every page. The quirky personal narrative chapters were pretty great as well. But... this really needed a professional editor. There are grammatical errors and/or typos on basically every page (not to mention some typesetting errors where entire sentences are randomly repeated). Just incredibly distracting. Plus, there was no discernable structure or flow to this. That was clearly an intentional choice, but why are we reading about Reel Big Fish well before the Jamaican roots of ska? And Carnes's dead-on thesis of ska being this joyful, unself-conscious genre built on unity and antiracism just wasn't developed enough and got lost at times in the jumbled approach he takes here. I think a more coherent structure would have done wonders for this book. As-is, I learned a ton about a genre of music I love and got some great new band recs. This just left me wanting a bit.
A love letter to ska, particularly 90s ska-punk, but with short sections on various styles and sub-genres, histories and moments, and scenes and bands. He covers a lot of ground (although, as the introduction points out, some bands and scenes get missed) and he writes about almost all of it engagingly, knowledgeably and with a lot of affection. The book's biggest misstep, for me, is the amount of time spent on Carnes' first-person tour stories and you-had-to-be-there in-jokes, and some of these stories are pretty unpleasant. In one, he describes driving with friends past a group of rudeboys, total strangers all dressed up for a night out, and screaming threats and profanity at them before speeding away - he sees this moment as hilarious (it must be - the Voodoo Glow Skulls thought so, too!), but I'd suggest he's never had a carful of white kids yell threats at you and then drive away before you can do anything about it or say anything back. The fact that even with decades of hindsight he sees this as a funny story is pretty telling, and if he's unsure why some people hate ska, maybe it has less to do with porkpie hats and more to do with adolescent, self-satisfied moments like that.