In the acknowledgements to his "Mick Jagger. Primitive cool" book Christopher Sanders mentioned that "it is not, in any sense, an 'authorized' biography". Nevertheless, this is Mick Jagger's biography, well written and with a lot of factual material (not to mention good chosen photos) in it. And, which I think is very important, it tries to be objective. It represents "outsider's" point of view. What I really like, is that this book is NOT like, say, Tony Sanches's "insider's" story, which, in my opinion, built mostly on exposing author's negative attitude towards everybody (except himself). Nothing of the kind. This is really good trial to synthesize and analyze existing material, to provide reader with the complex view of our rock-n-roll time in general and of Mick Jagger who still plays one of the leading roles in it (and "It's curiously tempting to bet on him lasting twenty (years) more"). Written with reall interest in subject and high respect to the Star and people around him this book defenitely should be read by every Rolling Stones's friend.

I love medical fiction but this book was the most enjoyable one I've ever read. It is funny, tragic, thought provoking and interesting. I wish there were a whole series of these books. I've recommended it to a bunch of my friends because it was so fun to read.

Christopher Sandford has done an admirable job of writing a biography on one of rock's more elusive icons, David Bowie. Having read most of the other biographies on Bowie in and out of print, I'd have to rank this one second best next to Peter Gillman's "Alias David Bowie." Gillman's biography has better photos and a superior in-depth account of Bowie's youth, but Sandford's is more up-to-date.

In "Loving the Alien," Sandford discusses Bowie's rumored schizophrenia, a trait he apparently inherited from his mother's side. (Previous biographers have argued that if this is a fact, it serves to explain the many stage-personas Bowie adopted during the '70's: Ziggy Stardust, Aladdin Sane, Thin White Duke, etc. Curiously enough, Sandford seems uninterested in this theory.) Bowie's half-brother, Terry Burns, clearly suffered from the mental illness, which led him to take his own life in 1985. The song "Width of a Circle" is supposed to be about Bowie's own battles with schizophrenia (or possibly Burns', depending on which biography you read). Whether or not it ever seriously affected him, Bowie seems to have conquered it by his mid-30's.

Bowie also befriended many other rock stars and celebrities during the '70's. At one time, he was even friends with Elizabeth Taylor and Oona Chaplin (the latter's family even falsely predicted that Bowie would marry her).

Sandford's biography is probably the most well-written one yet on Bowie, as well as the most current. Strongly recommended for Bowie fans wishing to know more about the man.

When I bought this book, I figured I knew just about everything I needed to know about David Bowie. I knew all of his albums, his wives, favorite albums, all about his fellow musical friends (Iggy Pop, Lou Reed, etc.), the movie he has starred in, and so on. As a matter of fact, I came close to not buying the book at all. But boy am I glad I did. Loving The Alien is the by far the most down to the earth, well explained, and best researched Bowie biography out there today. I'm surprised that the author, Christopher Sanford was able to convince William Burroughs to talk to him. What sets this biography apart from the rest is that it presents the information in a factual matter but also with a twist of Sanford's opinion mixed in. I found the reading very interesting and I finally realized that I knew hardly anything about the exciting and unique David Bowie.

I have read a lot about David Bowie, because I'm a huge fan, and I believe that this is the best biography written about him. It goes into such detail, you can't believe that it's all true. I actually ended up highlighting parts that were so interesting, I would reffer to in conversations. I highly recommend this book. It will change anyone's life.

One of the most painful books I have ever read. Not just badly written, it actually causes you pain to read it. Maybe that was the english experience the author was trying to convey, absolutely nothing else. This book cost me .50 at a used book store. I like the title, but you would have a better time banging your head against the wall. There are two people selling this book, they must be his cousins, mine helped heat my house.

I was forced to read this book for my English class. It starts out slow but when you give the book a chance, it becomes both funny and sad. The main character (David) has a hysterical fall from the English landed gentry to a scrounging poor boy. You will really enjoy this book if like to poke fun at the English.

It's hard to believe that someone was paid to write this book, and more so, that someone actually bought it. I can believe the author still has hundreds of copies under his bed. The book is funny only in it being one of the most pathetic displays of English writing I have ever read. A man from the Congo with charcoal and a sharp stick could have written better. I can only wonder what the publisher thought or, knowing the English, how many drinks did it take.

I have read several works about Bruce, like Marsh's and Cross' books and was eager to read a book that went from "beginning to now", so to speak. I grew up on the Jersey shore (Seaside Park)in the 60's and 70's, so I have a feel for what "went down" in those days. Therefore, I feel I have a good backround to comment.

The book has a great deal of information contained within, but I have a hard time believing the author when he tries to convey what Bruce was thinking at certain times in his life. How the hell would he know? To include quotes from Bruce is one thing, but to make assumptions about what the man was thinking is a little "out there" for me.

Then there is the "literacy" thing. The author goes well beyond the normal english language (at least for this Jersey guy). This type of writing makes it very hard to read the book and follow whatever it is the author is trying to say with his long winded, see-if-you-can-decipher-this style. Example: pg. 224 Plato called songs `spells for souls for the creation of concord'; at best, Springsteen's slogans were balm to a republic polarized by bebt. (this means what?)

For $15. I guess it's worth the cash, just be prepared to ask yourself over and over, "what the hell did that mean"?

KEEP ROCKIN BRUCE!

This is a well-written, if over-analyzed, portrait of Springsteen. Sandford, who's clearly a fan, writes about Springsteen's childhood and his rise as a rock star that turns into rock icon -- but he tries to do so with the objective of portraying Springsteen in more human terms instead of just feeding the myth-making machine as so many other authors have done. This means that at times Springsteen does not come off as squeaky-clean or saintly as some of the more hard-core fanatics want so desperately to believe. Sandford balances the musical (reviewing and analyzing Springsteen's albums and songs, Springsteen's coping with the problems and pressures and eventually coming to terms with being a star, etc.) with the personal (his relationships with women, his marriage with Phillips, his sometimes contradictory nature, his selfless giving to various charities and so on). Sandford also shows how Springsteen evolved from somebody who never read a book and didn't know anything about politics to somebody who now reads the classics and is much more politically aware. Sandford is also not afraid to criticize, or at least point out certain contradictions concerning Springsteen's behavior -- one example being that early in his career, Sprinsteen vowed to never play stadiums and had imposed a ban on T-shirt or merchandising in his name. By the time of the Born in the U.S.A. tour, however, he was playing huge stadiums and selling plenty of merchandise, courtesy of Jon Landau. However, this book is no sordid tell-all, nor is it a hatchet job to try to bring Springsteen down -- Sandford usually goes on to defend Springsteen, or at least to explain the reasons for why Springsteen did what he did.

One thing should be pointed out: Sandford is British, not American, and British sentence structure and grammar is a little different in style than American writing. He also has a dry sense of humor that is sprinkled throughout the book and he writes about Springsteen from an English perspective, not an American one.

This book does have it's flaws though, with the major flaw being that he uses too many anonymous sources for his quotes, causing a dip in the credibility department. He also tends to be a bit long-winded, which causes him to repeat himself quite a bit.

In the end, though this book shows Springsteen as more than a one-dimensional "Rambo with a guitar". Sandford succeeds in portraying Springsteen as a human being, with human flaws, and not as some guitar-toting cartoon character. If you're looking for a more objective look at Springsteen, then this is the book.

The most widely accepted version of Bruce Springsteen has it that abstract objects are distinguished by their causal inefficacy, is he? Concrete objects (whether mental or physical) have causal powers; numbers and functions and the rest make nothing happen. There is no such thing as Bruce not being Bruce. Or maybe causal commerce with the game of chess. And even if impure songs do in some sense exist in space, it is easy enough to believe that they make no distinctive causal contribution to what transpires, the only bruce matters theory of music. Peter and Paul may have effects individually; and they may have effects together which neither has on his own. But these joint effects are naturally construed as effects of two concrete objects acting jointly, or perhaps as effects of their mereological aggregate (itself a paradigm concretum), rather than as effects of some set-theoretic construction. (Suppose Bruce's band tip a balance. If we entertain the possibility that this event is caused by a gig, we shall have to ask which set caused it: the set containing just Peter and Paul? Some more elaborate construction based on them? Or perhaps the set containing the molecules that compose Peter and Paul? This proliferation of possible answers suggests that it was a mistake to credit causal powers to sets in the first place.)

First, a confession--I'm a Sting fan for several years, and a die-hard one at that. As much as I love his work with the Police and his solo material, I also know he isn't infallable--there are several instances where a different path might have reaped larger artistic dividends.

Still, this is a hard read. It's interesting from a factual standpoint, as I learned a number of things about Sting that twenty years of fandom had failed to impress upon me. But the way Sanford writes is just so darn annoying that it approaches worthlessness at times. At times he's insightful, and you're pleased at how much sense his views make. Other times, you're amazed at just how hard he's trying to be hip, to be cool and dispassionate. At best it's annoying, at worst grating.

You'll not find a better book on Sting on the market today...and that's the problem.

To give all those interested in Sting, a flavour of this book, and just how incredibly irritating it truly is to any self-confessed fan such as myself, I will attempt to entertain you with a mimic of the author's style of writing in this scathing review- only this time the spotlight being turned on Mr.Sandford - the self-styled 'le critique par excellence'.

"Its obvious from the very beginning, to the educated, of the 'rationale' this author proclaims to have on music, and quite obviously, it is nothing less than a mixture of his misplaced determination and ambition and our bad luck that Mr.Sandford ever thought to write a biography on Sting.

I do indeed compliment the author on his ability to critise and praise Sting on his life, however contrite and unjustified it often is. And its with sincere regret that after much careful 'investigation' - talking to 100 or so people (no less) about Sting* (*his music)- The 'facts' are as follows:

Having read some first-hand 'evidence' of Stings childhood , ie. "A Sting In The Tale" by James Berryman (a better book- highly recommended) "Chris" (Mr. Sandford) falls short of delivering any unbiased information, however well informed by the Tabliod sheets (see back pages for actual references) and therefore, in no uncertain terms, makes himself 'look' (and I say look as I'd never intend to bias my reader) like a self-congratulating hypocrite. Indeed if I read about it in a Tabloid- i'm sure it would be true.

Chris, my dear friend, you were once a journalist now you are little more than a 'pretentious git' in my eyes... at least Sting has the sense of humour to appreciate that some people will always see him that way for whatever reasons.

You however - don't."

ah, thank you kindly
well if you're still interested - just don't believe all the stuff he sprouts!

Mr. Sandford gives an insightful look into Mr. Sting. Unfortunately, the more you read, the more you discover that Mr. Sting is one of the most self indulgent, arrogant, childish people you would ever not want to know. A waste of a good write.

The author clearly received marching orders from a random publisher to write about Clapton...this book started on a premise and the author spends the rest of the book trying to prove/defend that premise.

What was the premise of this book? Namely that Clapton is a dysfunctional guitar god. Read between the history and hearsay and it is abundantly clear Clapton suffers from alcoholism/addiction. His actions and psychological pathology make that point strikingly clear. It doesnt make what Clapton did right - far from it. But the obvious wasnt the intention of this author. His goal was guitar god on a skewer.

This book spends so little time on the actual music...Derek & the Dominoes, Cream, Blind Faith that you wonder if the author even knows its significance.

All in all - crummy journalism...worse book.

I am not sure why the author wrote this book except to make money. It would seem the very crime he accuses Clapton of committing, he commits in this book- namely, not really loving what he is doing. The author indicates having sympathy for Clapton, but what comes across seems to be very distorted. While I do not know all the gossip about Clapton, this book reduces his life to simply adding up 'good' and 'bad' acts. Yes, Clapton by all reports was not a healthy adult (I don't know about now) and not well integrated. The author, rather then developing this lack of integration, becomes overly obessed with the 'bad Clapton'. If Clapton's playing was never anything but copying the old blues masters, how can the author complain that his newer music doesn't evoke the excitment and innovation of his earlier playing. You can't have it both ways. The author takes acts of kindness and indicates they are really self-serving acts. I don't want to defend Clapton, but rather wished the author would have viewed his subject in a neutral manner and integrated his upbring/childhood, how he dealth with life and how he made music as opposed to taking the easy way out by doing the 'Mommy Dearest' routine.

This book is the perfect counterbalance to Ray Coleman's hilariously fawning autohrized biography, "Clapton."

Coleman's and Sanford's books are polar opposites in the treatment of the subject and somehere between the two extremes a fairly good picture of Clapton emerges.

If you seek objectivity, read this one first. It is a harsher, more detached, yet no less accurate, assesment of his life and musical influence.

If you are a Clapton fan seeking to reenforce your perception of, "Clapton as God", read Coleman's book.

I was hoping this would be a definitive biography on the late rock icon, since one has not been written since his death. I was amazed at how much of the book relied on 'sources' & 'witnesses' to fill in crucial moments in Cobain's life. Although the author claims certain parties did not want to reveal their true identities, it comes off more a work of fiction & lies. The author also compared Cobain to another rock icon, Jimi Hendrix, to the point where the book came off being a partial biography of him as well. I don't have the space to fill all the wrongs in this book, but over half of his behind the scenes details of Kurt's life are totally off. A lot of it is just plain putrid, slanderous nonsense. Kurt Cobain meant a lot of things to a lot of people, & I am still awaiting the day that an honest, dignified account of his life is written. I am not saying he was a saint or without fault, its just that something needs to be written that does justice to the guy.

This book was too back and forth for me. It switched from his childhood back to rock stardom with in sentences of each other. Christopher Sanford may have done his research but most of it seemed mediocre to me. I wish that he had talked about the different theories of Kurt's death instead of just saying he killed himself period. The book had a good outline and a great story to tell, I just think Christopher Sanford went into depth on things that weren't so important and he lacked detail on the things that were. The book made Kurt look like a washed up junkie suffering depression, when he wasn't like that at all.

Finally some one wrote an honest line about Curt Cobain. A more self indulgent artist would be hard to find. From lying about his childhood, to cheating his friends. A model of just how wrong a life can go. The idol worship of Curt is brought crashing down. My guess is Curt's fans will feel ashamed after reading this. A public service has been done by this book.