The Penguin Book of Rock and Roll Writing.

Clinton Heylin claims in his introduction that you're about to read "the best of the last twenty-five years of rock writing." At last: a book focused, like the title says, on rock writing, but another page and a half and his mission's "an overview of the major shifts in rock music . . . representing the best writers who have worked in the field," and then he explores different definitions of rock 'n' roll and you might as well forget about learning anything about rock writing. True, the volume's ten eclectically chosen segments are organized around types of pieces--rave review, reaction to a disappointing album by a favorite artist, the musician talks back, defining a scene, fiction and satire, esthetics, the music business, obituaries (the most consistently good writing), and "on tour with the band" (the worst)--but Heylin never analyzes these genres or explains why he chose them.

Most of the interest of the pieces is anecdotal, most of the analysis superficial, most of the sensibility pedestrian; the writing ranges from exemplary to embarrassing. In the latter category, Jon Landau's "I Saw Rock & Roll Future and its Name is Bruce Springsteen" ("I felt the sores on my thighs where I had been pounding my hands in time for the entire concert") and Nat Hentoff's "Rolling Thunder" tour report should remind writers that the stars whose words you hang on today will seem pretty stupid in 15 years. Two excerpts from Joe Carducci's excellent but hard to find book Rock and the Pop Narcotic; a magnificent "posthumous interview" of Hendrix by Lester Bangs ("maybe . . . no dead niggers are suicides"); and fine history from Nik Cohn, Greil Marcus, Paul Morley, and Paul Williams raise the average considerably. Hipster-icon/producer/musician Steve Albini's hilarious "Eyewitness Record Reviews" may help to explain "indie rock" to our grandchildren, or not, but this isn't the book on rock criticism anyone's been waiting for.

Ann Marlowe writes for LA Weekly and The Village Voice.