I was a teenage journalist.
In this deceptively breezy memoir, Crowe recounts his upbringing in San Diego and his teenage adventures as a rock journalist. In a series of short, lively chapters, many of which open with an aphorism from his mother, Crowe lovingly portrays his parents and siblings without shying away from his oldest sister’s depression, institutionalization, and suicide. He also reflects on his first record reviews written for an underground newspaper, his subsequent work for Rolling Stone, and his brushes with everyone from Kris Kristofferson to the Ramones. Always the prodigy, Crowe was painfully aware of his youthful innocence, which paradoxically helped him cover the hedonistic rock scene of the 1970s. He also developed a knack for self-deprecating humor, which he deploys throughout the memoir, beginning with its title. (After rock critic Lester Bangs reminded Crowe how uncool he was, his nerdiness became a badge of honor.) Following his journalistic triumphs at Rolling Stone, Crowe wrote Fast Times at Ridgemont High (1982), which launched his film career. He eventually wrote, directed, and landed an Oscar for Almost Famous (2000), the winsome coming-of-age story that his memoir often evokes and fleshes out. Crowe has relatively little to say about his Hollywood years, and he is tight-lipped about his own marriage and children. The memoir opens and closes with the stage adaptation of Almost Famous, whose 2019 opening in San Diego coincided with his mother’s demise. She was obsessed with the play, Crowe tells his readers, but its topic clearly preoccupies him as well. “All of this will be forgotten,” David Bowie told Crowe while driving through Los Angeles in the 1970s, when the Eagles took flight. Crowe’s love letter to that place, time, and music puts Bowie’s prophecy to the test.
A winning blend of family portrait, rock history, and coming-of-age movies.