Loud Reading
OFF THE RECORD
(iUniverse.com)
Off the Record is the story of the rise, from out of nowhere (AKA North Carolina), of the startlingly talented Tommy Aguilar Band (AKA TAB). Leader Aguilar is a borderline prodigal savant with as much talent for onstage magic as for terrifying or infuriating anyone within earshot. Right on cue enters Gus DeGrande, a malevolent concert promoter whose boredom with his current industry omnipotence spurs him to seek a new frontier: artist management. From the moment they meet, Gus quickly tightens the proverbial genital clamps, binding TAB into a horrendously impossible contract riddled with conflicts of interest. Aguilar isn't just any screwball though, and DeGrande's attempts to corral him teeter constantly on the brink of disaster.
David Menconi, whose contributions to industry rags including Spin, Billboard, No Depression and Request have left him exceedingly well-versed in the machinations of the music biz, succeeds on the strength of his tale, all the while courting flaws that an edit job beyond the cursory would have fixed.
For example, Menconi's characterizations are thorough, and convincing to the point that each time a character does something quite out of character, and several do, it feels like a betrayal. To wit: Aguilar, sociopath that he is, is inexplicably rattled by the sellout issue that dogs TAB from the moment of their earliest success. And, in an odd bit of late exposition, we discover that DeGrande has a potentially fatal weakness for gambling (this from a man whose deeds to that point lend his character an air of someone cartoonishly more than mortal).
Menconi also shamelessly nips and borrows from the current music biz to the point that one has to ponder where homage meets hokum. For example, TAB frequently tour with Arrowhead, an aged pop-metal band fronted by one Perry Rose. And Aguilar himself exhibits Kurt Cobain-isms such as posing for promotional photos with a gun to his head, as well as posing for the cover of Rockslide magazine wearing a t-shirt that reads "Corporate magazines still suck." Off the Record is chock full of such squirrelly parodies and re-enactments.
Still, the book is compelling due to the strength of the story. It's a fairly dry and artless rendering of said story, but that's no crime. Off the Record should be chalked up, therefore, to potential—it's probably at least one rewrite away from the book it could be. If Menconi brings along an editor, and pinch of a flair with words, his next novel should certainly be a keeper. Brian Briscoe [buy it]
