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Music Books |
Non Music Books |
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| Pat Metheny Songbook | American Psycho | |
| Miles Beyond |
by Pat Metheny
Hal Leonard Publishing Corporation
Paperback - 448 pages
Spiral edition (June 2000)
April 16, 2002
This is really a no brainer: if you play jazz or are learning to play jazz and you are a fan of Pat's music, this is a great reference. It's well produced in every respect and defintely well worth the price. An added bonus are Pat's comments on the tunes and his thoughtful quotes regarding improvisation. Seeing that much of Pat's music in one place gives you new respect for the range, quantity and quality of his compositions. A few minor quibbles- I wish the book had been arranged alphabetically- the way it is, you have to look eveything up in the index first- no big thing but mildly annoying. Also some complex charts have been rendered as simple lead sheets making casual performances unlikely unless one is familiar with (and willing to transcribe from) the original recordings. That aside, I can't think of a reason that anyone wouldn't like this book. I should really give this 4 and a half stars for the little flaws, but since Amazon won't let me, I'll round up just because Pat writes such great tunes.
Highly recommended!
Vintage Books
Paperback - 399 pages
May 25, 2000
I'm posting this as a warning The point the author makes is a valid and interesting point- selfishness, materialism etc. are the morally numbing enemies of civilization, however it's just not worth being confonted with this truly sick, disgustingly violent and disturbingly haunting imagery. This book actually made me physically ill, a first for me and the little I did read sticks in my head- a most unwelcome presence, I assure you!. Lest anyone think that it's from a weak stomach, I read the sicker sections of "Hannibal" without a problem, but this? It crossed way over the line for me. Avoid the inevitable nightmares-don't read it!
April 5, 2002
Raphael's ego that is. This book is hardly about Kubrick. It's more like the diary that someone with chronic insecurity would keep for their therapist. There are, to be sure, a few glimpses into Kubrick's collaborative modus operandi but he manages to keep Raphael, and therefore us, at a quite a distance. This book might have been more interesting had the author not continually kept returning to himself as the main subject. I suppose he had to, for his relationship to SK was tangential at best. Still, I found myself getting angry with the author over his virtually unrelenting self absorbtion.
Not recommended.
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