UBER MODESTY: The Sting memoirs

Although this Jones review of String's memoirs is a month old, the second graph has a pretty good summary of what's wrong with Sting overall, nicely detailed:

"Broken Music" isn't smarmy or pompous. Sting is a likable narrator, neither falsely modest nor proud beyond merit, and he writes with a self-deprecation that works. In the end, though, the book fails in a very familiar pattern: Sting starts strong with undeniable chops, then loses nerve and hires the strings. And the wind machine. And the voiceover.

Couldn't you make the case that since String wallpapers our lives via tv, Disney movies, and radio, that his memoirs are redundant. I mean, what would it be like if we had to READ that guy's music? Anyway, I had long passed on that book, it was an easy call, hope Jones got a nice fee for having to take notes on it. Once I saw that, though, I got to clicking. I never finished Kempton's book; Jones articulates why.

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