I had to read this book because of Klausner’s back-cover crack about “guys in their thirties who’ve never been married, ride their bikes to work, and really like Death Cab for Cutie,”* since that acurately described me when my fiancée and I started dating. (I’ve since given up on my thirties and on DCfC (I can’t remember anything at all about the last record of theirs I heard), and I’m gearing up to abandon not-married status. Still a cyclist.) I Don’t Care About Your Band delivers what it promises: a raunchy and funny kiss-and-tell catalog of failed relationships. I laughed out repeatedly and was sent into a minor choking fit once. I assume there’s a certain amount of names-and-identifying-details-changed-to-protect-the-guilty going on, and I had some fun puzzling over which specific indie rockers Klausner was dishing about.
Klausner also seems to feel compelled to imbue I Don’t Care About Your Band with some sort of social relevance. Sometimes I think she hits on a genuine insight, but scattered throughout are cringe-inducing bits of armchair sociology derived from from observing a small population with an intrinsic selection bias. Few things get my dander up like sweeping generalizations about gender and sex role behavior, e.g., the “only women can be bisexual, men can only be in the process of turning gay” trope, which gets aired here.
* some versions of this pull-quote substitute Cat Power, which would have made me somewhat less likely to read the book.
needs more demons? just a few