Talking to Girls About Duran Duran: One Young Man's Quest for True Love and a Cooler Haircut

by Rob Sheffield

From the bestselling author of Love Is a Mix Tape and Turn Around Bright Eyes, "a funny, insightful look at the sublime torture of adolescence".—Entertainment WeeklyThe 1980s meant MTV and John Hughes movies, big dreams and bigger shoulder pads, and millions of teen girls who nursed crushes on the members of Duran Duran. As a solitary teenager stranded in the suburbs, Rob Sheffield had a lot to learn about women, love, music, and himself. And he was sure his radio had all the answers.As evidenced by the bestselling sales of Sheffield's first book, Love Is a Mix Tape, the connection between music and memory strikes a chord with readers. Talking to Girls About Duran Duran strikes that chord all over again, and is a pitch-perfect trip through '80s music-from Bowie to Bobby Brown, from hair metal to hip-hop. But this book is not just about music. It's about growing up and how every song is a snapshot of a moment that you'll remember the rest of your life. 

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

290 pages, Kindle Edition

First published July 15, 2010

About the author

Rob Sheffield is a contributing editor at Rolling Stone magazine. In addition to writing music reviews and profile stories, Sheffield also writes the Pop Life column in the Mixed Media section of the magazine. His work has also been featured in The Village Voice and Spin. A native of Boston, Sheffield attended Yale and the University of Virginia, and is six foot five.

His first book, Love is a Mix Tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time (an excerpt of which was featured in the January 2007 issue of GQ), was released by Random House in January 2007. It received starred reviews in Publisher's Weekly and Library Journal.

Reviews

[RandomAnthony · Rating 3 out of 5]

Rob Sheffield's Talking With Girls About Duran Duran is less about Duran Duran and more about the ways boys in the 80s (and any era, really) accessed music to help them articulate what they can't quite say to girls or each other. The book also reads like the memoir of a polite, Catholic indie-rock fan who fears/adores his three sisters, sells ice cream from a truck, and really, really wants a girlfriend.

Sheffield likes to portray himself as a wuss with a weakness for shiny pop but he's way more brave than me. Never in a million years would I have admitted, at age 18, to liking Poison. No way. And Sheffield loves music all across the board, like an excited puppy, whether Debbie Gibson or Lita Ford or Big Daddy Kane. And Sheffield knows that (some) girls like excited puppies. The puppy wants to play and make the girls happy. Sheffield is all about making himself that puppy, not in a sneaky, manipulative way because (some) girls can through that act, but through a curious lack of guile. I like him. I'd pet the puppy, even if he knew 100 times more about music than me and has the balls to do karaoke Chaka Khan. Reading this book is sometimes like talking with a friend who will not let you off the hook when you say The Replacements' Tim was better than Let It Be. And although he won't be a jerk about the disagreement he'll bring it up, out of nowhere, in six months and probably worked the angles for two days after the original conversation.

The text is organized into years, with each year connected to a song/artist the author associates with that period. Sheffield's strength lies neither in writing about music or writing about teenagers, but in writing about the connection between music and teenagers. And as most teenage boys spend a lot of their time listening to music and thinking about girls, Sheffield's strengths ring as authentic. He respects the music like an acolyte but never speaks in a ponderous, academic manner. While Talking With Girls about Duran Duran treads some of the same ground as his earlier Love Is A Mix Tape, this book is lighter, of course, and more fun. Sheffield is excellent at saying important things while appearing not to say anything important all. A quick, worthwhile read.

[Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

This week I was able to finish 3 books… dog days of summer and all that.

One was a rather depressing tale of orphanism and the south and people who chewed tobacco. I shudder. The other was that horrible Heathers like book Some Girls Are… (not horrible as in horrible writing, but ugh…) and then I finished up this book. I am all over the place. I have a cold and was told that I may be experiencing ‘premenopausal’ symptoms (fuck that shit. I am 41 years old. I’m sweating because I live in New England and the humidity is like 98%. Screw you, doc). See? Stability not a requirement here.

With that bit of TMI preamble, I will now tell you what I think about Talking to Girls about Duran Duran. One young man’s quest for true love and a cooler haircut. First of all, AWESOME title. Right there, any guy I see holding this book would have my attention, and once I figured out his sexuality, I might even crush on him. If you can bounce around to The Reflex at a Duran Duran reunion show wearing a baggy sweater with Julian Sands hair and combat boots, you will most definitely get laid, my friend. No matter what gender you are into. We girls are a little complex… if you look like Rob Sheffield… we will be your BFF. But, you’re probably gay and we won’t crush on you. If you look like Nick Hornby and can tell me that John Taylor’s bass lines are amazing during Rio… I will probably set up a shrine for you. Yes, we are shallow… we are groupies… duh.


Rob Sheffield is like the unhip little brother of Nick Hornby. The girls will crush on Nick because he’s so mature and witty and yes he’s bald, but he’s got that literary thing going on. Rob is the goofy kid who still wears leather jackets that don’t really fit but you just want to ruffle his hair and hug him and lie on your bed and mock the celebrities in Tiger Beat. Rob will be the one that you call when you hear the new remix of New Moon on Monday with the French clown in the beginning. Nick is the one that you will stand against the wall and wish that you could understand his references and does this skirt look good with these boots?

I feel bad for Rob… because when we groupies finally grow up, we will want him. We know that when the news of Michael Hutchence’s death is announced, we want Rob to hug us and we want to rub our snot on his vintage Violent Femmes shirt and he won’t care because he will be trying to make you laugh about stories of how Paula Yates looks like one of those Chinese crested hairless dogs. Rob is a keeper.

Talking to Girls chronicles his teen/young adult years through music… something music critics do very well… but Rob is generational. He is 4 years older than me… this actually makes quite a difference in music years. He was 14 in 1980, I was 10. Youth culture had yet to relate to us. I think that’s why his other book ‘Love is a mix tape’ spoke more to me. We were in our 20s and that 4 year gap isn’t as drastic. Like, I have never heard of Hayzee Fantayzee and this is one of Rob’s favorite one hit wonder bands. I feel adrift. But, I can listen to Purple Rain and my memories are of seeing it in the $2 theater in downtown Manchester when I was 13 with my friends and dancing in the back of the sticky theater while his memory is of driving an ice cream truck around Boston that summer feeling like he was king. This has got to be my favorite essay of the bunch. I can’t imagine a more liberating summer:

“I lived on ice cream sandwiches and Top 40 hits all summer, dodging traffic on the Southeast Expressway singing along to an endless loop of “Purple Rain” and “99 Luftballons” and “Roxanne Roxanne” and “Ghostbusters” and “Girls just want to have fun” and “Missing You.” …I loved to crank up the volume in the Callahan Tunnel, where you can literally hear the music bounce off the walls. When you have Prince on the radio, all the ice cream you can gobble in the freezer and nothing to do but drive a truck in Boston traffic without a single lesson on how, being eighteen is pretty close to bearable.”

There is a whole essay on is love/hate/love relationship with Stephen Patrick Morrissey. “he has devoted his life and mine to making me a lamer, dumber, more miserable person. I can’t leave him behind, because I’ve tried, and yet he follows me everywhere I go. Six years on my trail? I should be so lucky to get off that easy.”

“Morrissey was my Mrs. Garrett, the house mother from The Facts of Life, a soothing adult figure giving me words of wisdom.”
“Aw, Stephen Patrick… I’m a little depressed.”
“There’ll be blood on the cleaver tonight.”
“Excuse me?”
“You should never go to them. Let them come to you. Just like I do.”
“Wow! I never saw it that way, but you’re right!”
“I decree today that life is simply taking and not giving. England is mine and it owes me a living.”
“Gosh, me too, Stephen Patrick! But I have a problem. See, there’s this girl I like.”
“She wants it now and she will not wait. But she’s too rough and I’m too delicate.”
“I wish I could talk to her, but I don’t know how.”
“Pretty girls make graves.”
“They do? That’s terrible!”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t bother.”
“Thanks, Stephen Patrick! You’re the best!”

I cannot even begin to calculate how much truly terrible advice I got from Morrissey. In the endless Tuesdays with Morrissey conversations I had with him, in the privacy of my own overheated skull, he gave me a map to life, with all the arrows pointing in contrary directions.”

See? Rob is a soulmate! His lamentations of how Paul McCartney taught him how to be a husband, not a boyfriend, how Chaka Khan released his inner karaoke god, how Bonnie Tyler taught him that girls are so shallow and only use you for your lame ass ride to get home. He and I grew up in the outskirts of Boston; we listened to the same radio stations! We grew up on Bedtime Magic with the mysterious David Allan Boucher on Magic 106.7!! We dealt with the NKOTB stalkers (his sister was one of them), we made mix tapes and bought cassingles! I just wish those 4 years difference in age weren’t so formative. I would have so loved having him to hang out with. I would have taught him so much about girls and he would have taught me so much about what geeky boys really think because that would have cleared up a lot of misunderstandings in my youth.

[Elly Lonon · Rating 3 out of 5]

You ever have someone try and turn you on to something that just doesn’t quite fit you, but you can still tell it’s really, really awesome? Even if you don’t enjoy it as much as you probably ought to? You know, like The Dave Matthews Band, or imported stinky cheeses, or anal sex.

Yeah. So I just read Talking to Girls About Duran Duran. That’s kinda how I feel about the book. It’s good. Very good! It’s just…well…I think I lack the balls to appreciate it fully.

I mean, based on the cover, it screams, “ELLY! Let’s unite in a fiery blaze of literary passion!” On paper, Rob Sheffield, music journalist turned memoir-ist, is my dream platonic straight male best friend. He loved the 80′s. I loved the 80′s, too!

"If you were famous in the 80′s, you will never not be famous. (In theoretical physics, this principle is formally known as the Justine Bateman Constant.)"

And he’s happy to make snarky, disparaging comments about the musicians of that era. (Not that I’d ever make snarky, disparaging comments about musicians. *coughrodstewartcough*

"There are times in a man’s life that can only be described as “times in a man’s life.” The first time he experiences A Flock of Seagulls is one of them."

…and yet. As much as I enjoyed his snark, I just couldn’t quite fall in love with him the way I wanted to. I hate it when that happens.

But the giggles? The giggles were pretty epic.

"To simplify brutally, there were really only two kinds of movies in the ’80′s:

1. Movies in which Judd Nelson might conceivably pump his fist while crossing the football field.
2. Movies in which Mickey Rourke sweats a lot and symbolizes something."

Here’s the premise for the book: young Sheffield is convinced that if he understood why girls loved Duran Duran so much, he would understand everything about them. The girls that is. Not Duran Duran. They really weren’t that complicated.

"…maybe girls would scream for me the way they screamed for DD if only i modeled my life on Simon Le Bon, and borrowed his lipliner, and spiced my conversation with lines like “My mouth is alive with juices like wine.” It might take years of monastic devotion. I might have to go to exotic locales and have sex with actual wolves."

Normally, I fall madly in love with anyone who loves music as much as I do. And when someone uses a line like, “David Bowie ended life as I knew it one Sunday morning, entering my life the way a true prophet should- over a bowl of Fruity Pebbles,” I should want to instantly share joint custody of a unicorn with them. But then Sheffield would use lines like, “She was a pheromone parfait in a pencil skirt, always rocking a severe bob of red hair and glasses that she could have used as a shiv.” And yes, I know that’s a beautifully written sentence, but somehow I found those sentiments harder, colder…distracting even. I wanted more gushing over Morrisey and stirrup pants.

Dufmanno and Tom G., I thought of you two quite often while reading the book. Sheffield was also raised Catholic – super duper Catholic – which normally makes me a little uncomfortable being a wanton heathen and all that. But his take on religion is pretty amusing:

"It’s like Lou Reed said to Lester Bangs about drugs: “I make no bones about the fact that I take amphetamines. Any sane person would any chance they get. But I’m not in favor of legalization, because I don’t want all these idiots going around grinding their teeth at me.” That’s basically how I feel about religion. It’s a drug I abuse, but I don’t want to see it on the street."

My favorite chapter by far was the chapter on Hall & Oates. Holy Mother of Massengil how I love that band. So does Sheffield.

"Is there a word in the language more beautiful than “Oates”? Say it loud, and his music is playing. Say it soft and it’s almost like praying."

I loved the book most when Sheffield was madly in love with the music. That’s when I love people most, too, so go figure. I can’t lie though, there were definitely moments I found myself skimming distractedly through the pages. Maybe because I’m neither Catholic nor a dude? Or maybe because I’d never heard of Haysi Fantayzee? But I’d still recommend it. Especially to dudes. Catholic dudes that love music. So, Tom G. read this book.

**originally reviewed at bugginword.com**

[Eilonwy · Rating 4 out of 5]

3-1/2 stars

Back in the day, in the early to mid-2000's, I used to subscribe to a music magazine called Blender. It was lighthearted, irreverent, super-snarky, and never failed to make me laugh. People who read "real" music magazines sneered at it, but I loved it. That's where I first ran into Rob Sheffield and enjoyed his writing. Blender folded in 2009, so I've been meaning to read his books for a long time now.

This month my library dedicated its theme shelf to "Libraries Rock!" and filled it with a lot of books about music, bands, etc. And there was this one, face out, just demanding I finally check it out and read it.

This isn't a very dramatic book. It's a loose collection of memoirs about Rob's life in the 80's, going from 13 to 22, focused around his discovery of various bands and styles of music. He does talk quite a bit about his quest for True Love, but not that much about his hair. Each chapter is named for a band and a song, and might be about that directly (Haysi Fantayzee, "Shiny Shiny") or very obliquely (lots of other chapters).

And yet the lack of drama made this book a very fun, pleasant read. Rob's a straight white Irish-Catholic boy living in a Boston suburb; he gets along with all of his sisters; he gets to spend a summer in Spain; and despite his lack of true love, girls find him safe and like to hang out with him. It was kind of nice to read about a happy childhood. Rob has a very charming voice, funny and mildly self-deprecating, and brimming with love for all the music he talks about (even the songs he hates).

This was a super quick read, and would have taken me even less time if I hadn't been constantly looking up and listening to many of the songs name-checked in these essays.

Recommended if you're ever in the mood for a sweet, humorous ode to 80's music, or you're planning an 80's karaoke party and want to get in the mood.

[Anthony Chavez · Rating 5 out of 5]

I grew up saturated with music in my household, my father could have opened a record store in our house with the amount of vinyl and cassette's he had (now cds omg... oh so many). All genres too, so I was exposed to everything, except Madonna and Prince he wasn't a fan of them whatsoever, so I could really relate to everything he says in Love is a Mixtape (80's & 90's) and Talking to Girls about Duran Duran (ALL 80's with a dash of 90's, minus the Madonna part). I can imagine his articles for Rolling Stone are great, after this book I want to read them. The Duran Duran book isn't a story so much as an account or exploration of Rob's falling in love with New Wave music in the 80's and pop artists molding the way, not only of how he thinks, but most girls of the decade, hence the title. He also explores the fascination with and cultural saturation this decade has had on the world, unlike any other decade. I love how it seems almost as if he has a photographic memory to remember the 80's, every awesomely bad bit of it, either that or he kept a diary and knowing his all Irish girl/woman household/upbringing AND his being a writer I'm going with the diary. I wasn't a teen in the 80's but due to my dad I feel like I was and reading writers like Sheffield and Nick Hornby really crystallize it for me, I was a baby of the 80's but those writers, and my father, make me wish I was a teen of the 80's.

[Jenn Estepp · Rating 2 out of 5]

alas, the text didn't live up to the totally awesome title. how sad it is when that happens ... as i mentioned whilst reading, the intro starts with some fairly stupid broad gender statements that i hoped would be limited to the introduction. sadly, not so much. the habit of saying things like "girls like this" and "boys do that" is repeated frequently and it was never not-annoying. i get it: you're making a joke. i think. unfortunately, it's not really funny. and that's maybe why, or at least an example of why, i think writing funny books is the hardest writing out there. and too often it seems authors just resort to painting with the widest brushstrokes in the world and throw tons of jokes out and hope that a few of them stick. and a few of them do, i guess, but a lot fall flat and make you look dumb for trying so hard. and that was totally the case here, which makes me sad because rob seems like a pretty okay guy.

and, being like a queen of nostalgia, there were totally a few moments that got me and even made me giddy. because what other book is going to namecheck the kenny rogers + orphans + stock car racing "six pack" which i had a total thing for as a kid and would watch whenever it was on hbo? which, was a lot. unfortunately, that's not enough to make up for meh stories, stupid jokes, gender stereotypes and too many words justifying crap songs. also, overuse of the term "new wave," of which my definition of is way different than sheffield's. i know he's the professional and all, but i'm going to stick with mine.

[Kyra Leseberg (Roots & Reads) · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm a huge Rob Sheffield fan.  He writes about how life and music intersect so seamlessly and I definitely relate to people who are aware of the soundtrack to their life.

Sheffield's memoir Love Is a Mix Tape pretty much ripped my heart out as it chronicled his love of music and then his love of Renee, his wife who died unexpectedly only five years into their marriage.

In Talking to Girls About Duran Duran, Sheffield explores his adolescence in the 1980's through song titled chapters to compile an epic mix tape (and even breaks down a list of the greatest cassingles of all time in one chapter).  From the one-hit wonders rarely remembered to the anthems still crooned in karaoke bars, the eighties are richly detailed in this memoir.  And of course as the title suggests, Sheffield offers some insight into the staying power of Duran Duran who have remained famous no matter the decade.

If you like music and memoir, pop culture, the eighties, and excellent music journalism, pick up a copy of Talking to Girls About Duran Duran: One Young Man's Quest for True Love and a Cooler Haircut or any other Rob Sheffield book you find!

For more reviews, visit www.rootsandreads.wordpress.com

[Kathy · Rating 1 out of 5]

As a fan of music myself - Duran Duran as well, though not all too passionately - and a female, I couldn't get over just how one sided this book really is. Quite often it seems like Sheffield is looking down on female listeners, making them seem as if they were incapable of understanding music, only ever focusing on the look and image of a band. Whereas male listeners, of course, sit down to discuss the music, the lyrics, the meaning and the connection to other happenings in the world. I am aware that a lot of it was to be taken with a grain of salt, perhaps even meant in a funny way but it kept coming up so often that it simply wasn't funny anymore. If this is what Sheffield learned about life when talking with girls about Duran Duran, perhaps he didn't listen very well.

[Peter Derk · Rating 4 out of 5]

Talking to Girls About Duran Duran: One Young Man's Quest for True Love and a Cooler Haircut by Rob Sheffield

Okay, before we get too far into this, everyone should know that this book doesn't come out for a whole week.
This is very exciting for me.
Not only did I hold the book in my hands before the unwashed, unshaven, apparently wholly uneducated about hygiene masses, but the version I held was special. And not just because it was an uncorrected proof. Not just because Steve Perry was named Steve Terry at one point, something that confused the shit out of me for a second. This is all very new to me, so instead of thinking right away that there was a one-letter typo, my world started swirling with the possibilities of an entirely new band led by Steve Terry, a man who sounded by all description like Steve Perry, patron saint of sincerity in the face of ridiculousness, but was in fact an entirely different man.
Let's leave it there because the details of how long this was in my brain and how badly I wanted it to be true are goddamn embarrassing.
No, this was not just special because of the ghost of Steve Terry. It was special because this is the official launching of my career as a book critic.
Here is my basic career outline:
1. Get books before they come out.
2. Review them. Post on helpfulsnowman.com.
3. This is wildly popular somehow.
4. Actually get paid to review books.
5. Start career as sincere, earnest critic with insightful things to say.
6. Almost immediately slide into the world of writing cover quotes that are about half a sentence. "The writer has defied science and written a book as electrifying as it is grounding." "More mesmerizing than a swinging pocket watch right in front of my goddamn face that time I was in Vegas and somehow ended up at a magic show." "Not since I got a lighter with a woman on it where you rub her bikini and it disappears have I been this invested in the resolution of a mystery."
7. Get job at the New York Something.
8. Attempt to discourage young, Bambi-eyed kid reviewer from getting in over his head, actually reading all these books he reviews.
9. Bury corpse of Bambi-eyed kid reviewer somewhere near the waterfront.

So without further ado, let's get this career a-launching!

Most of you probably know Rob Sheffield as a contributing editor to Rolling Stone. Or you might have seen him on one of those shows where people ranging from cultural critics (such as Sheffield) to Vern Troyer (alcoholic Golem on a mobility scooter) talk about things of great consequence, such as whether Michael Jackson could actually destroy a car with all his might.
Those of you who are very lucky might have read his previous book, Love is a Mix Tape. If you haven't, get off your ass.
The important thing to know is that the guy does an awful lot of writing, so it's not a brand new game for him. This isn't some silly biography that starts off with the thrilling tale of who his great-grandfather is and why we should give a good goddamn. This is a silly biography that takes us through the songs that define the 1980's for Rob, which turns out to be a good storytelling tool. Everyone has a couple songs that don't really mean what they're supposed to mean. Maybe Ben Folds had a hell of a lot going through his brain, but "Rockin' the Suburbs" might as well be called "Summer, 1999" as far as I'm concerned.
Sheffield takes you through his songs, his times, and the music is the driving force some of the time and takes the passenger seat at others.
A great way to see if you'll like this book is to read the section named for Prince's "Purple Rain." It chronicles Rob's summer as the ice cream man, a summer filled with teenage freedom and forever solidifies the impossibility of selling Bomb Pops. This is one of the strongest sections. Good, clear writing, humor, and just enough relatibility to keep things fun.
Something that makes Sheffield's writing about music really work is that he's not trying to convince you to like or dislike anything. This isn't like talking to your buddy who will spend an hour trying to convince you that Ride the Lightning is the best Metallica album when it creeps up to maybe fifth on your list. This isn't like talking to some goofball who tries to convince you that Beyonce is important somehow. This is a guy who likes what he likes, makes no apologies for it, and tells you what he likes about it. Much like the claim he makes about Duran Duran having mostly female fans and not really giving a damn, Sheffield will have people who disagree with him, but he'll go right along doing his thing.
The weaker points come in when reading about songs you've never really hear of or don't give two shits about. As the wave of 80's nostalgia passes over us, you probably wouldn't be surprised to read a little something about Flock of Seagulls, David Bowie, and Hall & Oates. But Paul McCartney, L'Trimm, and the group Haysie Fantayzee (which I'm not entirely convinced wasn't a joke because the story was so perfectly 80's pop) round out a number of groups. It's really a nostalgic trip through the 80's, but moreso if you actually lived through them. Not a lot of time is spent catching you up, and folks born after 1985 will be left behind children.
To be honest, it was a little bit like a driving through a foreign country. It went fast, I enjoyed it, but at times I was so busy trying to figure out where I was that I didn't really get to enjoy the sights. To help you out I've included a track list of the main songs mentioned in the book, so if you want to spend a couple bucks or know someone with a decent library of80's music you can really get a leg up on this one.
Talking to Girls About Duran Duran by Rob Sheffield. Check it out July 15th. Or, you know, after that.

The Go-Go's, "Our Lips Are Sealed"
David Bowie, "Ashes to Ashes"
Ray Parker Jr., "A Woman Needs Love"
The Rolling Stones, "She's So Cold"
The Human League, "Love Action"
O.M.D., "Enola Gay"
Culture Club, "I'll Tumble 4 Ya"
Hall & Oates, "Maneater"
Roxy Music, "More Than This"
Bonnie Taylor, "Total Eclipse of the Heart"
Haysi Fantayzee, "Shiny Shiny"
A Flock of Seagulls, "Space Age Love Song"
Chaka Khan, "I Feel For You"
Prince, "Purple Rain"
Paul McCartney, "No More Lonely Nights"
Madonna, "Crazy For You"
The Replacements, "Left Of The Dial"
The Smiths, "Ask"
The Psychedelic Furs, "Pretty In Pink"
Lita Ford, "Kiss Me Deadly"
Tone Loc, "Funky Cold Medina"
New Kids On The Block, "Hangin' Tough"
Big Daddy Kane, "Ain't No Half Steppin'"
L'Trimm, "Cars With Boom"
Duran Duran, "All She Wants Is"

[Riccol · Rating 1 out of 5]

This was a tough book for me to rate. I had to think long and hard about it as I wanted to be fair; it didn't seem right to write it off as a bomb just because it didn't fit my personal tastes. But after much consideration I did give it only 1 star, which equates to a Bomb/Skip It in my system. Here's why.

I despise cooked onions. But I love liver. And 99% of diners everywhere serve it smothered with sauteed onions. If I don't specify "no onions" when ordering and am thus presented with a dish piled with steaming onions, would it be fair to proclaim the meal was awful and the chef sucked just because of my personal aversion to onions? No, it wouldn't be. The meal may have been perfectly prepared and cooked, a culinary delight for most; my dislike of onions wouldn't make it less so. And I can scrape the onions off and still enjoy the meat underneath.

This is how I see this book. Music history, theory, analysis is of no interest to me. So I knew going in that there would be onions to scrape off but I was expecting a nice piece of meat underneath - the memoirs of growing up in the '80's. Like Sheffield, I'm a child of the eighties who was also admittedly a fan of Duran Duran so was looking forward to a trip down memory lane. I was sorely disappointed.

I found his anecdotes tedious to get through and leaving me wondering "what was his point?". I was never able to pick up on the connection between what he was writing and the title he chose for the book. It felt like he was really stretching to explain himself and the point of the book title and never got there.
He talked a great deal of his sisters and other girls he hung out with, always with admiration and respect and a sense of wonder, but afterwhile it began to feel like he actually wanted to be one. And that changed the tone of the book for me. Is he trying to understand girls or does he secretly want to be one? If he did, ok, fine, that would have made a really interesting book in itself, but here in this book he just left me confused.

Putting aside any deep meaning he was trying to impart, which was lost on me, there wasn't even any entertaining "fluff". I was wanting to be able to say to self "Oh! I remember that!" or "Oh! I had one of those!" or "Oh, yeah, that was so like ya know, totally like how it was." But there was never such a moment. Even the songs/groups he used as chapter titles held no memories for me. Many I had never even heard of, and the ones I did, they are not the songs or groups that I remember as being huge in the eighties. It's his memoir, of course he's going to write about what he remembers most, but I felt let down, as if he wasn't writing about the same decade I experienced.

So I give this a 1-star as I can't think who would really enjoy it. If you're a music aficionado you'll likely want to argue about his choices and analysis of such, and if you're just looking past the onions for a light, entertaining trip back through the eighties, you'll be disappointed.

[Marc Weitz · Rating 4 out of 5]

Being a fan of Duran Duran and being a fan of talking to girls, this book was right up my alley. It helped that I am an 80s kid who remains a big 80s fan. This is the type of book that I used to resent reading when it was about the baby boom era for the baby boomers. They always seemed full of obnoxious glorification of an era that was mediocre at best when viewed against the greatness of the eras that preceded it. However, this is my book, for me, that is glorifying my mediocre era, and I just loved it with reckless abandon.

In our defense (the author and me), the author does fully acknowledge the cheesiness, the taking-ourselves-too-seriously-ness, and the silliness of the 80s. He says this and then basically says, "I love it anyways, so screw you."

The author is Rob Sheffield, a writer for Rolling Stones magazine. The book is organized around his youth, set against the background of 80s music. Each chapter is named for a band and a song. The book starts by saying that Duran Duran is great because they played for their audience: girls. Girls love them, and if you want to talk to girls, then you must talk their language, which is Duran Duran. This makes sense to me. The parts of the book that describe what makes New Wave, New Wave are hilarious. Plus, the part where he defines the greatest cassingles of all time is great. He says that "Baby Got Back" is probably the most popular song on earth since everyone knows at least one line of lyrics.

If you're an 80s kid and/or love the 80s, you will love this book. If not, you'll just resent it just as I resent that baby boomer crap. (That means you Forest Gump)

[Kasia · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was excited to read this, as I really liked the author's previous book, Love is a Mixtape. Plus, I like 80s music and reading memoirs about music. However, this book rubbed me the wrong way from the start, and I gave up pretty early on. Perhaps I didn't give it a fair shot, but all of his observations seemed to be based on ridiculous gender stereotypes about music. I got particularly annoyed when he was talking about The Clash (a band that boy's like, according to the author), and says how girls particularly like the song "Train in Vain" even if they usually think it is called "Stand by Me".

Eff you, Rob. My vagina does not prevent me from enjoying The Clash (or any other bands/genres), and neither does it prevent me from caring about the correct titles of songs.

[Antje · Rating 2 out of 5]

Wenn Rob Sheffield eines mit seinem Buch gelungen ist, dann mich mit der Frage zurückzulassen, worin die Absicht seines Werkes liegt.

Ich las den Titel und dachte dabei an Musik und 80er-Jahre-Flair, aufgepeppt mit Humor und einer originellen Handlung. Ja, er nimmt uns mit auf die Reise zurück in seine Jugend, seinen Helden aus Musik und Film und ja, hier und da flackert eine witzige Episode auf. Der Einstieg in das Buch war zugegeben stark und vielversprechend. Selbst das letzte Kapitel gewann wieder an Würze. Vielleicht weil es in diesen beiden Teilen wirklich um Duran Duran ging? - Nicht zwingend.
Ich bin selbst ein Kind der 80er, eine Musiksüchtige, eine Liebhaberin der Filme "Pretty in Pink", Breakfast Club" und "St. Elmo's Fire". Dadurch genoss ich auch die Zeilen, in denen meine eigenen Jugendhelden Erwähnung fanden. Aber letztlich bildete Sheffield eine Endlos-Reihe dieser Helden, die er in meinen Augen leider nicht gelungen in seine Handlung einzubauen verstand. Seine Idee war tatsächlich anziehend - die Umsetzung jedoch schal.

Anfangs nahm ich es außerdem Sheffield übel, dass er irrtümlicherweise Dave Gahan "A Question of Lust" in seinem Buch singen ließ. Das schmerzte enorm. So etwas darf einen Musikfreak der 80er nicht passieren. Aber er versöhnte mich dafür wieder mit seiner Meinung, dass Duckie Andie zum Schluss von "Pretty in pink" verdient gehabt hätte, auch wenn wir uns alle insgeheim Blane für sie wünschten, der in seinem Anzug zum Abschlussball einfach lächerlich wirkte.
Mir gefielen auch das Kapitel über seinen Großvater und das über Paul McCartney. Das waren aber schon die einzigen erwähnungswerten Knüller für mich. Von Psychedelic Furs hatte ich mir beispielsweise viel mehr versprochen.
Zum Schluss brachte er immerhin die amüsante These auf's Papier, dass Jungen lieber Duran Duran's "Save a Prayer" und Mädchen ihr "Hungry like a Wolf" mögen. Was habe ich daraus letztendlich gelernt? Ich bin ein Kerl ;-)

[Brian · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read Life is a Mixtape on the recommendation of a friend late last year, and found it to be a really poignant biography of life and loss with music as a tremendously powerful backdrop. Talking to Girls About Duran Duran is similar in construct, but is more of a series of memoirs about growing up in the 80s, once again using music as the backdrop to all of life's lessons. While I found many of these stories funny, and in some cases even insightful, it never really came together for me as a unified book. Maybe it's not supposed to be, so I am not sure if this is actually a critique as much as an observation. I think reading it as a series of individual essays will lead to more appreciation of the book.

Anyway, there isn't anything really bad in here, it's more that there are parts I related to better than others. He spends a good portion of hte book talking about his family, and in particular his sisters, which in places was humorous, but in reading some of these sections I found myself lacking interest.

All in all, I liked it, and found it to be an great airplane book (something you can pick up and put down without losing any plot lines or characters.) If you are a fan of Life is a Mixtape, it is a necessary sophomore read. If you haven't read Life is a Mixtape, read that instead, or maybe read Eating a Dinosaur by Chuck Klosterman.

[Mauoijenn · Rating 5 out of 5]

This. Book. Was. Made. For. Me. :)

I loved it. I didn't want it to end. I related to it through the music.
I loved that music lyrics were used as sentences in here through his many stories of growing up during the 1980's. I loved his ingenious idea to name the chapters after his favorite songs from the fab 80's decade. Sheffield listed his 25 top songs. As a self proclaimed 80's freak. I will also share some of my favorite songs from the 1980's (in no particular order what so ever)!!

1. I Ran - Flock of Seagulls
2. Take On Me - A-ha
3. Raspberry Beret - Prince
4. We Built This City - Starship
5. Thriller - Michael Jackson
6. I Think We're Alone Now - Tiffany
7. Cherry Pie - Warrant
8. Don't Stop Believen' - Journey
9. 867-5309/Jenny - Tommy Tutone
10. Nasty Boys - Janet Jackson

[Mary · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is such a fun and funny read.Skip the couple of sacrilegious paragraphs and then be compelled (like me) to pull up some almost-forgotten 80s gems on YouTube.

[Jennifer Spiegel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love this book because of two things: the writer’s voice is warm, sweet, and honest, and we’re talking about Duran Duran. I think it’s like comfort food, which I’ve heard includes things like biscuits and gravy. For me, it might be BBQ baby back ribs from Don and Charlie’s or a Peanut Buster Parfait from DQ. Though my own LOVE SLAVE is set just after the death of Kurt Cobain, the eighties were like the biblical breath of life for my beloved grunge-haunted characters. They might be struggling with existentialist angst in 1995, but they know all-too-well about The Human League and Bonnie Tyler. And of course Duran Duran. That’s DURAN DURAN to you. My bet (and I would know) is that Sybil, my protagonist, has her own Duranie past, replete with SING BLUE SILVER books and “Planet Earth” singles. Comfort food, I’m telling you. Comfort food.

But let’s not forget the first thing I loved: the writer’s voice. You can’t be too full of yourself to get away with this stuff. You’ve gotta be pretty comfortable with yourself as a man, frankly, to admit to being a guy loving Duran Duran. You’ve gotta be humorous. You’ve gotta have some insight too—and I found it with his exegesis of New Romanticism. For the first time ever, I feel like I’ve come to terms with my John Taylor-past. Sheffield skillfully connects adolescence in the eighties (my adolescence) with the Romantic tradition of Blake and Shelley. It’s special because there’s a nice candid smidgen of dorkiness present. Then, he says something very true about Duran Duran: they embraced their demographic (girls) and they never betrayed them. They never pretended to be something other than what they were. They don’t talk about going “legit,” whatever that means. They loved their girls.

I know this to be true because I went to one of the reunion shows when I was in my thirties. In truth, I moved on. During my teeny-bopper days, I did make a true metamorphosis. I switched to U2. That said, the Duran Duran show was GREAT and, yeah, they played to their audience—which was made up mostly (like 95%) of women in their thirties.

Good book. The Duranie Days were not deep. New Romanticism was a bridge, maybe. Afterwards, we’d turn to Nirvana and Pearl Jam. Still, Sheffield remembers the time well

(This is part of a larger blog post which will appear at the end of the week on www.jenniferspiegel.com.)

[Emma · Rating 3 out of 5]

It took me less than three days to finish Rob Sheffield's equivalent of a sophomore album - his second book, Talking to Girls About Duran Duran. I was a huge fan of his memoir, Love is a Mix Tape, so I had high hopes for this book too.

Now I didn't live through the 80s, I'm not a Duran Duran fan, not Irish Catholic, and didn't recognize the majority of these songs by name, but I ripped through this book. I would get to the end of a chapter (each chapter title a different song) and think, "oh...just one more". This allowed me to finish the book in record time.

Talking to Girls About Duran Duran is Sheffield reminiscing over old 80s tunes and 80s culture (especially new wave music). But of course it is so much more. It's more windows into Sheffield's life, a life I admittedly fell in love with upon reading Love is a Mix Tape. Each chapter recalls a different 80s tune and it's importance in his life. Although towards the end he talks more about his life and less about the music, I didn't care. This might turn some people off, but I find Sheffield's teenage self (who dominates the majority of the chapters) to be adorably shy, and his writing witty.

Sheffield understands the grave importance music plays in our lives, how intertwined it is with everything we do. And he understands life, or at least understands its indeterminability, its subtle nuances. Talking to Girls About Duran Duran is sprinkled with insightful observations, "I was too young to know adult life is full of accidents and interrupted moments and empty beds you climb into and don't climb out of." His writing is fresh and surprising and I love it; with phrases like "glitter encrusted sex cookies" how could you not? He knows how to manipulate a story, making the reader care about his memories, like picking up garbage on the freeway or clipping his grandfather's toenails, because he can plant you right into his emotions, whisk you straight back to the 80s.

I recommend this book to fans of Sheffield's work, the 80s, music, memories, and life in general. It was an enjoyable 269page trip through the decade that no one seems able to completely leave behind.

[Emily · Rating 5 out of 5]

OK first I'm going to start off by mentioning that I don't write reviews very often for books, but I enjoyed this book so much, I felt the need to spread my love for it on here!! The fact that the title mentioned Duran Duran, one of my most favorite bands, intrigued me. The name Rob Sheffield also sounded vaguely familiar and then remembered he had been interviewed on multiple VH1 Behind The Music and Greatest programs that I had seen over the years. I always had respect for his insight and fantastic taste in music, so immediately decided to buy the book, a decision I have no regrets about! I absolutely loved Rob's style of writing and all his stories of growing up in the 80s in a house full of sisters. Although I wasn't born until '93, I still felt like I could identify with him and his love for listening to records, as well as love for the "new wave" mentality and music. I found myself feeling a heartwarming nostalgia for a decade I wasn't even around for! His sense of humor also shone through and I found myself laughing out loud often, which led to strange looks from my roommates sitting across the room :) I'm anxious to read his other books, because if they are anything like this memoir, I know they'll be equally as entertaining and refreshing!!

[Gretchen Alice · Rating 4 out of 5]

In the movie version of High Fidelity, Rob Gordon mentions that he's organizing his albums autobiographically. In TtGADD, Rob Sheffield goes one step further and writes essays for his defining songs and moments from the 80s. The result is a deeply surprising and emotional book about 80s pop and new wave. In Love Is A Mixtape, a book which I absolutely adored, Rob discussed the unbreakable relationship between love and music. In Talking to Girls About Duran Duran, Rob talks about why he loves his relationship with music. The book lacks the pathos and heartbreak of Love Is A Mixtape...but it does perfectly captures the awkwardness of being a music-loving teenager who's completely inept around the opposite sex. The reason that I practically worship Rob Sheffield is because he writes about music like it's sacred, even the tacky one-hit wonders like Haysi Fantaysi. I only spent two-and-a-half years living during the 80s, but somehow the music stayed with me. Be sure to read his chapter on Paul McCartney--it's hysterical and SO true.

[Melody · Rating 2 out of 5]

I liked several of the essays very much. Most of them were just okay, though, and I think the book went on too long. I loved reading about Sheffield's totally awesome sisters. I think he should write a straight memoir about growing up with them shepherding him through life, it would be such fun. I remembered nearly all the songs, but with considerably less fondness than the author did, so that perhaps contributed to my overall sense of malaise regarding the majority of this book. Sheffield also assigns way too many gender stereotypes to suit me.

But if you grew up in the 80s, it's certainly worth leafing through. The intro is hilarious, though ridden with the aforementioned sterotyping.

[Beth · Rating 1 out of 5]

Well that was painful. The best thing about the book is the title. It boils down to the fact that he is just not a good writer. Most chapters were his ramblings of music and relationships with his family and friends, but he’s unable to connect the two. I thought I had fallen asleep during one chapter but I reread it and, nope, I was awake. Just awful.

[Dawn Michelle · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love Rob Sheffield's books - they always make me laugh and they sometimes make me cry and this one was no different. A look back at a time that was also my musical youth, it was so awesome to hear his perspective on many groups that I too loved at a time when I barely knew who I was, but knew all about my favorite bands and singers [with HUGE HUGE HUGE love to Duran Duran]. With a chapter dedicated to his late wife [hence the tears], this was an amazing musical read. If you grew up in the 80's, loved music [and if you didn't, I am not sure why we are friends] AND John Hughes movies, this is the book for you. And if you were also awkward and nerdy and lived in book, this book is ALSO for you. My teen years were filled with books and music and wishing that I could have a cool boyfriend like all of my friends [they all just wanted to be my friend and not actually, you know, date me - much like Mr. Sheffield's teen years] and this just was such a nostalgic read for me. And a whole chapter on Morrissey and The Smiths? Yes please.

Great, fantastic read.

[Zoe · Rating 5 out of 5]

If you love the cheeky, sentimental way Rob wrote about music in Love is a Mixtape and are in the mood for a John Hughes-flavored memoir about adolescence in the 80s through the lens of the music that says things we don’t know how to say ourselves, then you’ll enjoy this. Honestly, any music lover with some sense and even the guiltiest love of the 80s should pick this up, along with the rest of Rob’s work.

A chapter likening the New Romantics to actual romantic poets like Keats, not one, but two Oscar Wilde references, and an entire chapter on Pretty in Pink made it so highly specifically relatable to me, despite being born a good few decades after Rob (and years after the 80s).

Scott Shepherd’s narration on the audiobook gives it that perfect wholesome reflecting on the golden years of childhood feeling, a la the Sandlot. The audiobook just flies by. Only downside is the inability to highlight the wittiest, quotable bits.

[Jill Shunk · Rating 4 out of 5]

As a fellow product of the 80s, I found so many moments in this book relatable and laugh-out-loud funny. It's like an 80s inside joke. Don't know if my kids would find it nearly as amusing (but they appreciated the bit about Rick Astley...). Read the Chapter titles. If you know all those songs (or at least recognize most of them), then this book is for you. If not, you might just not get it.

[Christine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nostalgia! Loved this!

[Books I'm Not Reading · Rating 3 out of 5]

If you were about 13 years old in 1980, this will be a great book with you!

[Schmacko · Rating 4 out of 5]

People discredit the music of the 80s. One comedian—who I’ve purposefully and successfully forgotten the name of—says 80s tunes are what Satan listens to while using the bathroom. Others dismiss New Wave and 80s dance as fashion-and-video-obsessed crud. This is also the music I grew up with.

Rob Sheffield grew up with it, too; he’s a very clever, insightful writer from Rolling Stone. He doesn’t apologize for the music. He writes humorous and touching stories about what it meant to him. He lets it be what it is, and he talks about what it maws like to grow up with Psychedelic Furs, the mainstreaming of hip hop, ABC, heavy metal hair bands, the birth of Goth, and the corporate selling of rock-and-roll and pop music.

And Sheffield really makes it personal. He knows that Duran Duran spoke (and still speak) a language that makes girls scream. This band of wild boys were and are still sexual and slick and over-styled and slightly stupid. And yet this music has made an emotional connection. Sheffield talks about what all the cheesy 80s music taught him growing up, how it shaped his views of everything, mostly relationships. He taps into how a song can take you back, how it can connect you to your history, and how it can define you. This is our music, he says, in funny and personal short essays about dating dangerous girls and introducing his 90-year-old grandpa to Morrissey.

I think I know why the 80s bother some people; these people don’t want to own the visuals, the silliness, the consumer waste of it all. Rock was about rebellion; pop was about popular culture. In the 80s, popular culture was about labels and corporate sales and Reaganite politics and polish. In the middle of all this commerce, though pop music was also constantly pushing sexual and gender barriers, and it was about the birth of countercultures (rap, hip-hop, Goth, trance), and how they became mainstream. The 80s gave us Madonna, who took the idea of reinvention and made it a pop art form. Finally, the catchy 80s tunes were about co-opting the simple musical structure that old folk music and then the Beatles formulated and making songs that were hooky, synth-laden and hugely, emotionally merchandisable – buttons, t-shirts, hats, cassingles, CDs, books, Smash Hits, Tiger Beat, posters, pens, doodads and knickknacks!

Apparently we in America like to hate the 80s, because we’re uncomfortable with Capitalism. Art should never be sellable, apparently. We have a squeamishly uncomfortable relationship with megalomania; it’s a love/hate thing, where we don’t admit the love portion for fear we will seem arrogant, immodest, wasteful, or inauthentic. Yet we shop at Costco for more crap, we make sure our kids get the latest fashion, and we buy bigger houses for more stuff. This isn’t a criticism; this is the world we live in. Corporations hire and fire us, we argue for bigger paychecks, we get the latest toys – welcome to America, which runs on money.

The music of the 80s accepted that while slyly having Boy George in drag, dancing in a muumuu. Duran Duran spent millions on videos that were visually stunning and without much logical sense, just like their songs are fun, but their lyrics are obscure and weird. Girls had fun, boys were wild, movies like Dirty Dancing, The Breakfast Club, and The Lost Boys perfected cross-promotion (and they’re still entertaining to watch 25 years later). Bands like The Cure and Depeche Mode were building the images Tim Burton would make the cornerstone of his own brand in the 90s and 00s.

And it still means the world to me to know that Crazy for You was the song for my brother’s first serious relationship. My sisters and I know all the words to every early Tears for Fears song, because we sang them in my bedroom, listening to the 45s over and over. And I remember how much of a blast I had discovering The Reflex. And I remember my first real slow dance, making out to Save a Prayer.

So, I’m giving Sheffield’s personal, witty stories—small and charming as they are—four stars, because I get it. Like so totally, I do.

[Matt · Rating 4 out of 5]

I only wish I could blame my poor taste in music on my three Irish sisters...but alas, I have only one (of the Polish variety) and it is entirely likely I would have developed a liking for Duran Duran, Madonna, and Wham! without any female prodding. Hey, it was the 80's and nobody mocked Culture Club or Michael Jackson until many years later! :)

I could relate to this book on many levels -- maybe not quite as much as I did to Ready Player One, but still feel that this could have been the chronicle (or soundtrack) of my formative years.

I never did see Duran^2 in their heyday, but I did (randomly) run across them in Rome in July of 2008. (How I happened to be there is a story to be shared over beers...) I went because frankly I had nothing better to do that Wednesday night and I still harbored a secret love for the music. What I found was that several thousand Italians, plus ALL of my American counterparts, got into it unabashedly -- yelling out lyrics to all of Duran Duran's greatest hits. The band was not ashamed so how could we be? Yes, even 20 years past their prime they were rocking (New Wave-ing?) it out in a horse-racing venue, headlining the Roma Rock festival. The smell of manure couldn't damper our spirits, nor could the male belly-dancer just outside the stadium (uh oh, Shakiro)! All was good because we had Simon, John, Nick, Roger, and Andy ripping through a series of awesome songs. (Okay, Andy had left the band by then but I conveniently ignored that fact in the throes of being a temporary super-fan.)

Yes, I loved this book - primarily for the funny (sometimes painful) memories it dredged up. Sheffield capture the era and ethos brilliantly!

And now for a tangent - Perhaps my favorite nugget was completely unrelated to music. I love the part where Sheffield called out the use of the phrase, "No worries!" (which I happen to use all the time) as the all time best way to sound like you care...when you obviously don't. In his words:

“No worries" is the best thing to happen to sullen teenagers since I was one - even better than vampire sexting, GTL, or Call of Duty. When I was a sullen teenager, we had to make do wtih the vastly inferior "whatever".

"No worries" beats "whatever" six ways to Sunday. It's a vaguely mystical way of saying "I hear your mouth make noise, saying something that I plan to ignore." It has a noble Rasta-man vibe, as if you're quoting some sort of timeless yet meaningless proverb on the nature of change - "Soon come," or "As the cloud is slow, the wind is quick." In terms of ignoring provocation, "no worries" is just about perfect.”

And on that note, this review must end...

[Amy · Rating 4 out of 5]

Just a fun walk down memory lane.