Didn’t learn a lot of “new” things reading this, but it’s a pretty comprehensive, journalistic overview of the underbelly of the “peace-love-surf” hippy music culture of the 60s – you know, the ones the media always claims was the greatest music ever. The book reconfirms many of my long held beliefs that half of those folks were not that talented, just a lucky product of the drug-induced culture at the time.

And, as if it wasn’t obvious to most folks already, it also reconfirmed that Mike Love is a lucky jerk and David Crosby and Jim Morrison were awful human beings. Good thing (for them) most of the awful acts these hippies inflicted upon the world was overshadowed by a legitimate evil – Charlie Manson and his family.