In Lost Highway, Peter Guralnick seems to focus more on the Rockabilly side of his musical taste. Many of the artists portrayed fall under either Rockabilly or country, with Bobby Bland and Howlin' wolf being notable exceptions. The best chapters of the country section are on Waylon Jennings, particularly his dealing with Johnny Cash, and his chapter on Ernest Tubb, where his personal interviews give us a glimpse of a bygone musical era. The Sleepy LaBeef chapter is definitely the best of the Rockabilly chapters. Perhaps the most valuable feature of any of Guralnick's books is the discography he provides at the end of each.

In Lost Highway, Peter Guralnick shows us some of the most unique, and largely unrecognized, figures in American music. His chapters on Charlie Feathers, who was there with Elvis, Carl, and Johnny in Sun Studios in the 50's, and Sleepy LaBeef, whose relentless touring machine, upon request, would serve up any hit ever recorded by anybody, are compassionate portraits of real people that never got the hits, the recognition, or the payday of their famous contemporaries. What you come away with after reading this book is a realization that Guralnick's subjects live and breathe 'the life'. It's what they do. As I read this book, I found myself wondering if Guralnick had selected his subjects to cover some broad spectrum of the American musical landscape, or if he just wanted to get face to face with his musical heroes, and writing a book about them was a cool way to make that happen. Whatever the reason, Guralnick's enthusiasm for American music and his abiding respect for its practitioners come through every page. His attention to the small things, whether flattering to his subjects or not, brings us in close, where frustrations, hopes, missed opportunities, and dreams are all there for us to see. This isn't MTV. It's not the Grammy's. It's blue collar, working stiff people, making their living playing the music they love. And because they are so much like us, their stories are wonderfully compelling.

Peter Guralnick makes you realize how much it takes to be a musician. His portraits of the lives of country, blues, and rock musicians are so beautiful and yet so tragic. You finish the chapter on Bobby Bland filled with admiration for his conviction, yet saddened that what defines him as a human being can become such a grind. And you finish the chapters on artists you didn't know or care about--Ernest Tubb, Hank Snow, Charlie Rich--filled with admiration, realizing that they loved and commited themselves to something that was as dear to them as it was to their fans, even when, as with Charlie Rich, it fell beneath their expectations. An almost indescribably beautiful book.

I found this book at a used bookstore in Chicago after I had read the first part of Guralnick's Elvis biography, and after I learned he had written extensively about the blues.

This is one of Guralnick's forays into fiction, but the tale doesn't go too far from his nonfiction roots. In this book, a young white man from the Northeast (Guralnick, perhaps?) finds a stunning old bluesman in Mississippi and tries to make a national blues star out of him, kind of like when old bluesmen were "rediscovered" after the Rolling Stones and other white bands paid homage to them in the 1960s.

Of course, things do not go smoothly. The old bluesman is not in great health and does not have the mindset to bus from town to town playing one-nighters. Through the portrayal of the bluesman's home and other anecdotes -- like how his band's piano player disappears from a gig in Indianapolis, only to be found playing at a neighborhood dive -- the book seems to say that you can put someone on stage and call it the blues, but you can't really remove the blues from its environment. I get the feeling that Guralnick is channeling himself through the white promoter character, saying that the frustration with appreciating such great music is that you can't do it unless you come to it, not let it come to you.

The book is not so good that you should go to the ends of the Earth to find it, but if you liked Guralnick's nonfiction writing, Nighthawk Blues is worth picking up if you happen to see it.

Taken together with Last Train to Memphis, Peter Guralnik's excellent first volume on the life of Elvis Presley, Careless Love provides -- cloaked in the form of a very entertaining read -- a graphic roadmap of the perils of fame and the destructive power of the baser side of each and every one of us. For as Guralnik shows, the "King of Rock 'N' Roll" started out no different from any of us -- which helps explain his meteoric rise and broad appeal. But Careless Love shows how Presley's penchant for isolation and his habit of surrounding himself with sycophants -- aided by a decades-long addiction to drugs that started because of his naivete -- allowed his selfish side to grow unchecked by the healthy opposition most of us encounter every day of our lives. As a result, the sweet, innocent, gentle boy we met in Volume One becomes, in Careless Love, transformed before our eyes into a self-centered, lost, miserable creature whose tragic death at an early age seems a predictable conclusion to the sad years that preceded it. Guralnik's research was prodigious, and at times he goes a bit overboard on minute details that seem peripheral to the story. Nevertheless, I found Careless Love to be not only entertaining, but actually profound, with implications far beyond the narrow confines of pop culture.

Peter Guralnick is, first and foremost, an excellent biographer. That he chose the most important rock 'n' roll icon of the Twentieth Century is fortuitous, as he avoids the tongue-on-the-floor, awe-struck superlatives usually reserved for rock star bios and gives us a genuinely affectionate look at the real Elvis, good and bad. I read both "Last Train to Memphis" and "Careless Love" back to back. What became fascinating to me is how closely Elvis mirrored in his lifetime the entire generation of Baby Boomers. His adolescence was full of 50s innocence, religion, respect for others and a genuine curiosity about his surrounding cultures. His pre-Army years were flat-out revolutionary, with a 60s bent to shockingly turn everyone's expectations upside down. His post-Army years were as vapid and self-absorbed as the 70s, which led him to seek spiritual counsel to find meaning to life. His two-movies-and-an-album per year years were as "greed is good" as the 80s. His "comeback" years, beginning with the famous TV show and into sold-out Vegas performances, were full of 90s success, prosperity and money beyond one's wildest dreams. As we enter the 00s, perhaps this biography gives us a needed pause to reflect on Elvis' life, which ended in an out-of-control and ultimately sad downward spiral of drugs and unreality. Hmmmm. Maybe Elvis is telling us something from beyond. If we don't listen, we could be looking at one big mess o' the blues. I recommend Guralnick's books as the proper medium.

Elvis Presley is one of those singular cultural figures who naturally and without defiance broke America apart and re-invented it. He didn't come as prophet or destroyer, not as a statesman or reformer, but as a guileless, unpretentious young man blessed with a talent and charisma and drive that leaves us mere mortals agape. In a way, he is like several other men of the era--Kennedy, Brando, Dean, later the Beatles--who created the "youth culture" to which we are (unfortunately) more enslaved to now than ever....

Wait a minute--did I just refer to Elvis as other than merely mortal? Not so, and Peter Guralnick's astonishing Careless Love finally makes it possible for us to grasp Elvis as human. While other books about him could fill a thousand mausoleums, let them, because Guralnick's two-volume set (the first is Last Train to Memphis (1994)), will stand as the definitive biography of this great American.

But before you dive in, let me say that Careless Love, while beautifully and carefully written, and extra-carefully researched--Guralnick had access to unorganized files in Graceland unlike anyone prior to him--it is dense with factual trivia insterspersed with the dramatic events of Elvis' life (and the lives of those around him). This book is not for the casual reader; in its intimate details, vast narrative, and utter lack of superhero worship glitter, this book will probably appeal less to traditional Elvis fanatics than to those seriously interested in this man who became a 20th century phenomenon.

Again and again, Elvis is described as "humble, shy, respectful, hard-working." This seems true, right, but what is most effective in Guralnick's portrait is what's shown and not told--Elvis' misplaced affections, his desire to keep family and friends around him at all times (but then, you can't blame him). These people, from his father Vernon, to Priscilla, to old friends like Red West, had to put up with his mood swings, his anger, his jet-setting on a whim, the covert operations of smuggling girls in and out of his bedroom. Seemingly without concern for finances he gave away Cadillacs, motorcycles, TVs, homes, jewellry, to those around him, testing loyalty, wanting only their dedication to his perverse lifestyle.

Guralnick makes it clear that one of the young men in Elvis' employ became one of his most trusted friends--and one who was hounded out of the circle by Elvis' "good ol' boy" cronies. Larry Geller was a hairstylist when he met Elvis in April 1964. Immediately there was a rapport, for Geller filled a gap in Elvis' life--a hunger for spiritual, even intellectual pursuits. Geller listened while E poured his heart out about his mother--and if you know anything about Elvis, you know he loved his mother and when she died, well, he was never the same.

Elvis became quite the reader--one of the many revelations here. I won't comment on the types of religious books he read--well, suffice to say today they'd probably be shelved in the dreaded "New Age" section of bookstores, but who am I to say? Sometimes the critic in my head won't shut up--but it's obvious that E had found a bedrock for his life that he had not found in Col. Parker, in Priscilla, perhaps not even in his music. You really feel it when Guralnick describes how Elvis' friends (and let's not forget, they were his employees as well) start to openly mock Geller and his interests, and, by proxy, Elvis' interests as well, although they would never do so to his face. This part of Elvis they could never understand, a part that required a depth of feeling--and perhaps an ego--that these guys didn't have.

Some of my favorite parts of the book were when Elvis was in Vegas. Contrary to popular belief, Elvis turned in many great performances in Las Vegas. After spending years away from the stage, preoccupied with Priscilla, the baby, bad movies, etc., he was glad to concentrate on the music once again. He handpicked his backup band, and the performances highlighted his freewheeling, energetic, off-the-cuff personality that had been stifled. Guralnick excels in revealing how Elvis' confidence and enthusiasm returned at this point, and how he spent less and less time with Col. Parker. In these pages, Elvis comes across as simply wonderful.

The best thing about this work is that it is simply about Elvis' life--indeed, it ends a mere page after detailing the funeral (50,000+ outside Graceland); James Brown gets a moment alone with the body; and Col. Parker tells a grieving Vernon Presley that even now they must think of the future (ooh, that conniving huckster bastard!) There is very little moralizing, even when it could be so easy: such as when Elvis wanted to have contracts put out on Mike Stone, whom Priscilla had had an affair with,and on his close friends Red and Sonny, who wrote the 1977 tell-all Elvis: What Happened?

No, what Guralnick gives us here is the portrait of a great man, a man whose legacy today is encrusted with gold and lacquer, a man who should be rediscovered and remembered as he is here: without myth, without ceremony, but with every respect and honor due him.

It is to bad that someone so capable of telling a good tale could take a dive with such vivid subject matter at his disposal. It is extremely over priced for such a dismal read. Anyone who has purchased the Box set has read pretty much the same info given in this minute pamplet of wash. We need a vision of this man not a paint by numbers acount of times,places and song verses. Then again If you do not know the tale of johnson then this is the book for you. let me also highly recomend Robert palmers book Deep Blues. Also the finest attempt to give an acurate portrayal of such a god is the book LOVE in VAIN by Alan Greenberg...

The recent packaging of the Complete Recordings of Robert Johnson has shown this bluesman to be one of the most influential musicians in American history. He is more popular now than he ever was in his lifetime. It is his life, rather than his legacy, that is the subject of music historian Peter Guralnick's book. Little is know about Johnson's life, but Guralnick brings what little there is to light in a fascinating work that is more like a ghost story than a biography.

The 96 pages of this book are pack full of information about legendary bluesman Robert Johnson. Virtually everything that is known about Mr. Johnson is vividly detailed in this work. Makes for excellent reading.