Big thanks to Bloomsbury Academic and NetGalley for allowing me to preview author Pete Crighton’s entry into the 33 1/3 series with his nostalgic and critical look at The B-52s’ Cosmic Thing, a classic album that produced several hits that cemented their status as an important band, not only to Crighton, but to Gen X. I enjoy most of the 33 1/3 books since there never usually formulaic, yet there’s always something to learn about the bands and the influence of these specific albums. While Crighton’s entry is more of a comprehensive focus on the band’s career, he frames this information as necessary in helping to understand the band’s evolution and their significance as one of the first queer bands who shared coded messages about acceptance and joy when the climate for people identifying as queer was not so welcome and open. I actually didn’t realize this about the B-52s, but it’s like looking back, I can see it now. I didn’t realize that this album came out in 1989; it feels almost like it’s timeless. In fact, I feel like “Loveshack” and “Roam” were always staples of my high school dances in the 90s or were always on MTV. I also remember “Rock Lobster” as being the highlight of middle school dances, arriving sometime after Modern English’s “Melt With You” and Rob Bass and DJ EZ Rock’s “It Takes Two”. There was just something about hearing that twangy, surf-rock rumble-like guitar notes moving up and down that signaled the opportunity to go wild. It was always matched by Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson’s vocal imitations of the various sea creatures they might encounter in their pursuit of the rock lobster. Plus, Fred Schneider’s unique delivery that gradually builds to a kind of sustained Ahab like insanity always allowed a few of us weirdos to just let loose and abandon the timidity of early adolescence. As Crighton repeatedly notes, these were the calls from the B-52s to the other outcasts that there were others who loved sci-fi, UFOs, and b-movies, among other things that might not be popularly accepted when you’re trying to figure out your identity. Reading Crighton’s book took me back to those times when I first encountered the power of music to make you move and feel free. I appreciate all of the contextualization about the band’s beginnings, especially since I didn’t know a whole lot about their career. I feel like often times, the B-52s are underappreciated and under-documented as an integral left-of-the-dial band, so Crighton’s contribution is much appreciated.
The other interesting angle of Crighton’s book is that he frames the band in their queerness, sharing how their music both aligned with and offered some contrasts to the more ubiquitous gay sounds of disco. Within this framing, Crighton notes the hostility and fear that permeated society as HIV and AIDS emerged as a deadly disease in the early 80s. I actually didn’t realize that Ricky Wilson died of AIDS related complications, and according to Crighton, he only let one other band member know about his illness (but didn’t even tell his sister, Cindy, who was in the band). With the intense fear and misinformation about the disease, the band also did not publicize this. Nevertheless, the band persisted and took some time in between their last album that Ricky contributed (Bouncing Off the Satellites) and Cosmic Thing, which Crighton suggested allowed them to work more on their songs and have fun. It also helped that they worked with two excellent producers- Niles Rogers (of Chic fame) and Don Was. Crighton doesn’t really go into too much depth about the songs or the production of the album; however, he frames the songs, their lyrics and music in the queer context, allowing readers to see not only the band’s influence on him, but also the messages of love, acceptance, joy, and partying that they were sharing with the world. It’s interesting to think about how much the band was all about partying and having fun, but not in the like 80s rock band debauchery. Rather, I wonder how much they influenced Deee-lite, another MTV staple of the early 90s who were all about partying, clubbing, love, and acceptance.
I found Crighton’s writing to be enjoyable and funny at times. He offers personal connections to the B-52s’ music throughout his life, explaining how they helped him realize his queerness and come to an acceptance of his identity. His own experiences as a gay man coming of age in time of AIDS related fears shows how important a band like the B-52s was in providing a kind of guiding light or message of joy during these dark times. As a straight man, it’s not something I thought about, and it was important to hear that perspective and learn more about how much fear permeated life for people identifying as queer (and probably still does, for possibly different reasons). Although these weren’t the funny parts of the book, it does show Crighton’s intimacy and candor in his writing. His analysis of the song lyrics, as well as defining other gay-coded messages were funny. Nevertheless, the strength in his writing is his ability to identify and critique the anti-gay bias that was around in the 80s and 90s, referencing the comedians and jokes that were regularly accepted. He also referenced Three’s Company, a show I thought was hilarious when I was a kid, but didn’t really understand the complexities of a man pretending to be gay to live with two women. I appreciated his ability to call out some of the things that I laughed at as a kid, not really understanding who and how it hurt. This is a really fun and enlightening entry into the 33 1/3 series. Although it doesn’t specifically focus on Cosmic Thing for the entirety of the book, Crighton’s research, interviews, and analysis of the other albums helps to contextualize the band and their work in the emerging queer-related arts scene, showing how the band helped to open the door for other bands and acts, especially in a time where the mainstream music scene was rather bland and commercially driven, and the culture of fear and misinformation around queerness kept people who identify as queer at the margins or in the closet. If you’re looking for a book that details the equipment the band used, the type of recording technology they leveraged, or the time signatures of each of the songs, this probably isn’t the book for you. However, if your looking for a book about one person’s personal connection to music, and how the music of a band can serve as a kind of soundtrack for their coming of age, then this is a great book to check out. I highly recommend it, but I also tend to like these 33 1/3 books that are part memoir and share the nostalgic memories of music.

The B-52s' Cosmic Thing by Pete Crighton is another volume in the 33 1/3 series and is mostly an enjoyable read.

Part of what makes this series fun is that it isn't meant to be standard books that simply cover each track on an album, who wrote and played on it, how long it took, etc. It is supposed to use the album, ideally covering the tracks, as a focal point for what makes the album special or unique. That is why some of the best books have been about less successful albums and some of the weaker books have actually been about iconic albums. And, most importantly, the volumes I put in those categories will be different from the ones you would put in those categories. It is almost like we're all different people, go figure. So not connecting with a writer's way of presenting the value of an album doesn't make the book a failure, it means you didn't connect with it. Tell why, it will help other readers decide if they might also not like it, or maybe make them think you're pompous and they will like it. Either way, you helped someone decide what to read.

This book made me return to the idea I expressed in the previous paragraph, which is why I took that detour. I liked the B-52s in the beginning and then liked them again all over again when Cosmic Thing came out, so I know the album and a lot of the backstory of the band. I think what Crighton was trying to do in contextualizing it was valid and worthwhile, I just would have liked to have it done by someone who doesn't resort to hyperbole or harsh judgement of what they don't like while lamenting those who judged his favorite band harshly. In other words, I was absolutely turned off by the writer's voice and sense of "special" insight when it was many people's insight at the time and since.

Having vented about the poor writing voice, the book, if you're even remotely a fan of the group or the album, is a nice nostalgic (yes, even queers can be nostalgic when they don't relish the victim role too much) trip to the past. Even someone who claims nostalgia isn't possible does so after waxing nostalgic about the memories this album brought back. Nostalgia doesn't mean what you're reflecting on is all an ideal past, it can be remembering those moments of happiness and sunshine amid storm clouds and bigotry. But that is too much for Crighton to understand, at least as it applies to those he wants to criticize for doing exactly what he does.

Recommended for readers who are fans of the band and/or album, gloss over the hyperbole and take away the factual tidbits that help place the B-52s and this album in context. Maybe you think I'm a pompous person and the writer sounds great to you. Wonderful, I'm glad I could help you find a good book, enjoy.

Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.

Thank you to Bloomsbury for the advance read. Unfortunately, I found this 33 1/3 book to be quite a misstep. I understand the authors in the series are free to choose the method and type of storytelling, but the lack of actual focus on Cosmic Thing is kind of surprising. At least 75% of the book is devoted to the era before and after the "featured" record. I also felt there was a lack of objectivity to the author's style (so many exclamation marks!) and a whole lot of soapboxing and extrapolating on a chosen pet theme. Good luck, but not for me, sorry.

Pete Crighton gets off to a good start when he identifies the B-52s circa their debut as "a study in contradictions on that cover: They looked retro, but futuristic. They looked campy, but cool. They looked silly, but sexy." Alas, he then proceeds to spend most of the rest of the book way over to one side of the slider on another binary: I certainly wouldn't have wanted to read even a slim volume entirely predicated on the hand being a bit of a laff, but it turns out it's also pretty wearing to read a thoroughly earnest account of a group where I'd never have thought that an applicable adjective, except maybe in the Oscar Wilde sense. And that's Crighton's angle here, the band as joyously queer lodestars while he was growing up a closeted baby gay in Canada. So he roots for them, and his own younger self, struggling through rushed albums, the eighties climate of homophobia, the AIDS epidemic which robbed the band of music's only good Ricky Wilson, then cheers as they come back stronger with Love Shack, their biggest album, and proper fame, all after being written off. Not unfairly,he takes this as a parable of gay resistance in dark times, but in doing so he often loses track of the 33 1/3 series' supposed brief to concentrate on a single album; hell, at times he even provides track by track rundowns of other LPs entirely. Which have their moments (on 52 Girls: "When I listen to it today, I love to imagine it as a list of an alpha lesbian's weekend conquests"), but even then are deviating from the mission. And too often I simply found his breathless style getting my back up – we never actually get a "You go, girl!", but it often felt like one was lurking, and there's an exhausting preponderance of exclamation marks! Worst of all are the times he pushes through this and comes back around to being quite entertaining ("Dirty Back Road is a sexy slow-jam compared to the opener but it still sizzles. It's dangerous. It's sexy. It's southern. And it's almost undoubtedly about getting fucked. In the butt.") only to immediately blow it (the unnecessary topper "It's not too hard to use one's imagination to think about what the dirty back road is exactly."). I don't disagree with his broader thesis, or mostly even with his assessment of the highs and lows of the band's career, but his manner of saying it was not for me.

(Netgalley ARC)