Neal Pollack's Never Mind the Pollacks is the tale of a fitional rock critic's research and writing about another fictional (the greatest of all time) rock critic named, humbly, Neal Pollack. Neal PPollack, the critic, not the author, has an insight into the essence of rock unparalleled by any. The youing Pollack is guided by the spirit of a black bluesman known as "Clambone" (think that annoying Indian in Oliver Stone's "The Doors." Pollack sets of on his critic adventures financed by a trust fund supplied by Elvis Presley obtained when Elvis ran over and killed his father. The protagonist goes on to befriend and in some cases be the impetus behind the greatness of artists like: Wanda Jackson, Dylan, Joan Baez, The Stones, The Velvets, Iggy, The Ramones, Nirvana, blah,blah ,blah... The book is indeed and entertaining read, especially if you fancy yourself as having some sort of rock-hip media savvy, but in the end it reads as little more than a drug fueled rock and roll version of Forrest Gump mixed with the know it all hipster name dropping of LCD Soundsytem's "Losing My Edge." (Sorry but I didn't feel that the review would be complete without my own name dropping pretension).