Not Dead Yet… and Thank God for that

As an impressionable young boy in the summer of 1985, fully discovering my personal musical tastes, I distinctly remember purchasing Genesis’ self-titled release, on cassette of course, and probably due to the fact that local-Philadelphia radio station WMMR was, as it was quite known for doing, playing the album to death. But more than the familiarity of certain songs, the opening track of “Mama” was magical. The drums’ rhythm, the hard guitar, the spooky synths. And that evil laugh. Captivating. Thirty-plus years later, I still find that laugh, and the man responsible for it, just as captivating.

Phil Collins presents in his memoir Not Dead Yet plenty of tales. Some known, such has when he became the frontman for Genesis as well as his own successful solo career, to the unknown. Three divorces and rampant alcoholism? News to me. Through it all, Phil never comes across as preaching, or bragging, or self-indulgent. Instead, he’s telling you telling tales. Maybe from across the bar at the pub. Maybe at an AA meeting. But great tales.

Yes, personally, I would have liked the addition of more Genesis details, but Phil does spend a large portion of his novel to his time with the band, as they were a large part of his life, but he has obviously done plenty outside of the band. I very much remember him flying between stadiums for Live Aid, but completely forgot, as I’m sure Phil would be thankful for, that he played second drummer in the Led Zeppelin “reunion”.

Hey. Phil was, and still is, a huge, driving force in music. His book definitely has major fan appeal, but contains enough of the personal, the human, element, that even the casual fan, who might only be familiar with Tarzan or “In The Air Tonight” to be completely accessible and enjoyable. Not Dead Yet makes Phil relatable. And you want to meet him all the more.

And for that merely casual fan, I highly recommend Genesis by Genesis. If just for that laugh.

As Always,

theJOE

A “G0d” Not Worthy of Praise

The premise – Islamic jihadists take to cyber-terrorism via an invasive worm program – is clever and, admittedly if Lynn Lipinski’s descriptions on America’s internet infrastructure is correct, scary. Unfortunately the execution in God Of The Internet is weak, and comes across more as a TV movie of the week starring Kirk Cameron and Helen Hunt as opposed to a high-end thriller.

 

For a read that is targeted as a cyber-thriller, there is a significant lack of actual hacking and computer time going on. Instead, Lipinski focuses much, arguably way too much, of the novel on the soap-opera life of Juliana Al-Dossari – abused wife and mother of two teens, one who is semi-critically ill. And Juliana? Not a hacker. In fact, she is barely Twitter-literate. She is the “everyperson” of the story whose life becomes more and more complicated as she is drawn into the worm that is slowly corrupting America’s public works and financial systems. But unlike the “everyperson” role that inhabits a good Spielberg film, Juliana, and her children, are quite boring and possess no charm worth investing in. Ken, the de facto heroic white hat hacker who is by far the most compelling of characters within, uncharacteristically takes a backseat when the action kicks. Why? Choppy narration.

God Of The Internet starts fast with a killer hook. A quick 21^st Century disaster story that derails as the humbler, personal story takes the centerpiece instead of the horror at hand with an ending that is slapdash, unfulfilling, and even unbelievable.

Just imagine what Nelson DeMille could do with this core idea.

Thanks to NetGalley and Majestic Content for the advance read.

As always,

theJOE

No Poison in this Sequel

Sometimes, sequels can be better than the starting off point, a fact that many Marvel movies can attest, as the origin-telling, that whole world building, has been set and accomplished. The sequel, if done properly, allows the protagonist to grow; to breathe and evolve. Success to Matthew FitzSimmons, then, as his second Gibson Vaughn novel, Poisonfeather, surpasses not only the story telling from The Short Drop, but also evolves Gibson as a character beyond that of a conflicted computer hacker. With Poisonfeather, FitzSimmons creates a terrifically deep tale involving a corrupt financial broker (yeah, yeah, an oxymoron. Noted.), Chinese spies, a Mexican cartel, an undercover bartender, an ex-con-turned-farmer, and an ex-con and his sister still doing the con thing – and it all works blending together into one, smooth read.  

FitzSimmons wisely sets Gibson onto a completely new path, building off The Short Drop, but not dwelling in it and, save for a few minor mentions, almost entirely ignores any of those unanswered questions from the first book. In doing so, Gibson becomes his own man and not merely a key member of a team. Gibson has faults, insecurities, and plenty of internal soul searching to do, but when set loose on a job, and for this read that  means swindling any and all money away from the aforementioned swindling broker, he comes to life; he is focused and intense. That being said, Poisonfeather’s finale comes with unexpected results, for both Gibson and the reader.

Poisonfeather definitely contains many elements familiar to both crime and noir genres – such as the obligatory shoot ‘em up and a blonde woman of mystery – but keeps up a quick pace and, during the course of the novel, makes Gibson a likable character, which does not fully happen in the first novel. Likable enough, to note, that the ending definitely begs for more Gibson Vaughn.

Thanks to NetGalley and Thomas & Mercer for the enjoyable advance read. I’m looking forward to the next installment.

As Always,
theJOE