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[U405.Ebook] Free Ebook Everything I'm Cracked Up to Be: A Rock & Roll Fairy Tale, by Jen Trynin

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Everything I'm Cracked Up to Be: A Rock & Roll Fairy Tale, by Jen Trynin

Everything I'm Cracked Up to Be: A Rock & Roll Fairy Tale, by Jen Trynin



Everything I'm Cracked Up to Be: A Rock & Roll Fairy Tale, by Jen Trynin

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Everything I'm Cracked Up to Be: A Rock & Roll Fairy Tale, by Jen Trynin

It was 1994: post–Liz Phair, mid–Courtney Love, just shy of Alanis Morissette. After seven years of slogging it out in the Boston music scene, Jen Trynin took a hard look at herself and gave “making it” one last shot.� �It worked. Suddenly Trynin became the spark that set off one of the most heated bidding wars of the year. Major labels vied for her, to the tune of millions of dollars in deals. Lawyers, managers, and booking agents clamored for her attention. Billboard put her on the cover. Everyone knew she was the Next Big Thing. But then she wasn’t.

�In a series of dizzying, hilarious, heartbreaking snap�shots, Trynin captures what it’s like to be catapulted to the edge of rock stardom, only to plummet back down to earth. Everything I’m Cracked Up to Be is the story of a girl who got what she wished for—and lived happily ever after anyway.

  • Sales Rank: #1842567 in Books
  • Published on: 2007-02-05
  • Original language: English
  • Number of items: 1
  • Dimensions: 7.99" h x .82" w x 5.24" l, .79 pounds
  • Binding: Paperback
  • 368 pages

From Publishers Weekly
Trynin takes readers along on her wild ride up and down the cutthroat, fad-driven pop music machine—but her trip is more of a wacky nightmare than a fairy tale. In college, majoring in creative writing, she is thrilled by a band playing "loud and angry and fast." She joins a rock band, playing guitar and singing, and when the cops shut them down, she "never had so much fun." After several years trying to "get out of the Sunday-through-Wednesday-night folk/acoustic-chick-band wasteland and into the rock scene," she decides that if "something really wow isn't happening by the time I'm thirty, I'm done." And something wow does happen. With a self-styled geek-grunge makeover and a new raunchy electric guitar attitude, suddenly Trynin is being courted by entertainment lawyers, managers and major labels. She survives the exhilarating, terrifying, lonely whirlwind by starving herself, smoking, drinking and surreptitiously sleeping with her bass player. Trynin is charming: ingenuous but intelligent, whimsical but savvy. When she's dropped by the heavies as abruptly as she was discovered, it's a relief she has a steady, sensible boyfriend to settle down with, particularly since her passion for rock and roll seems to be more about youthful rebellion than music.
Copyright � Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

From Bookmarks Magazine
It's been over a decade since Jen Trynin's first album hit the shelves—and maybe time, as well as getting her story down on paper—has healed some wounds. For all the ups and downs of her flirtation with stardom, she shows neither bitterness nor excessive self-regard. In direct, insightful prose she weaves a tale of manipulation, betrayal, and the power of fame's allure. Critics are as charmed by her debut book as they were with her first album. Let's hope, for Trynin's sake, that acclaim isn't a bad omen.

Copyright � 2004 Phillips & Nelson Media, Inc.

From Booklist
What happens when you get what you want? The question haunts this funny, ultimately poignant memoir of a rock-and-roll fairy tale becoming a rock-and-roll nightmare. Briefly in the mid-nineties, Trynin was, much to her surprise, the subject of a major record-company bidding war. Lawyers, managers, and booking agents all wanted a piece of her, and Trynin devotes a lot of prose to her wooing by "industry types" smelling money. At first, she was flattered ("I'm so excited that anyone wants to meet with me at all"); later, overwhelmed. Despite excellent reviews, her debut recording's sales fizzled, and the telephone stopped ringing. She captures the strange sensations the music business affords: seeing one's face on a national magazine's cover; going on talk shows in which there is little, if any, contact with the host; inane interviews with clueless DJs; planned tours that don't materialize. She dutifully played the part of the rock star, always feeling like a fraud. Terrific reading for anyone interested in rock and the music industry. June Sawyers
Copyright � American Library Association. All rights reserved

Most helpful customer reviews

12 of 13 people found the following review helpful.
Jen Trynin is on her way to a literary career a decade after her attempt at rock superstardom
By Jessica Lux
Jen Trynin was an almost-made mid-1990's alternative rock superstar, and her memoir is billed as "what it's like to be catapulted to the edge of stardom, only to plummet back down to earth." As a music fan, I was obsessed with Trynin's contemporaries--Liz Phair, Hole, Nirvana, Aimee Mann, Better than Ezra, Alanis Morisette, the Goo Goo Dolls, and the like--but I don't remember Trynin's radio hit (which is, I suppose, what this book is all about).

Given the premise of a foiled attempt at rock superstardom, I read Trynin's narrative on the edge of my seat. Oh, is hiring this lawyer going to spell her demise? Hmm, is this unfounded loyalty to her backing band going to cause her downfall? Ah-ha--this choice of record label will be her death warrant! Did she not read her contract closely enough? Did she trust the wrong person? Is that rep a back-stabber? Did she screw up her indie cred and lose everything?

The reality behind Trynin's (lack of a) music career is much more subtle, less easy to pin-point, and well-narrated. This is a great story for any child of the 1990's, any musician, or any music fan. Trynin formed her own indie label when that meant having a direct fax line and spending hundreds of dollars on mailing list postage. It's a remarkable contrast to the wired podcast world a decade later, but the issues of dealing with a major label remain the same.

Jen is, above all, accessible. She's skinny in a heroin chic way, but she's terrified that people will discover that she doesn't even know whether heroin is something one snorts or injects. She doesn't know what her image is. She worries about being a "grown woman in a teenager's too tight corduroys." She's clueless about the music scene once she goes on tour, and thinks someone named Alice Morrison (Alanis Morisette) is the one everyone is watching on MTV.

Trynin hits at a lot of the pitfalls of the rock n' roll lifestyle without addressing them head-on. She goes days on nicotine and caffeine so that she can fit into her skin-tight pants, nevermind the foggy light-headedness. She knows that alcohol won't improve her performance, yet she downs it to calm her nerves, to escape, and suffers painful hangover-addled interviews on the days after her shows. She's in love with a long-term boyfriend, yet there are temptations on the road, and it is much cooler to have a free, easy-going image.

This terrific memoir is worth it alone for the time Trynin's music video appeared on Beavis and Butthead, for the backstory behind the Goo Goo Doll's smash hit "Name," and for the insider view on the (lack of a) process for creating music videos. It inspired me to buy Trynin's debut CD, Cockamamie, which is, unfortunately, out of print, but available on Amazon for less than a buck. That's a fitting end to this rock n' roll fairytale.

6 of 6 people found the following review helpful.
I laughed, I cried, it was better than VH1
By Irish Blood English Heart
I don't have my TV hooked up to anything besides a DVD player, but whenever I have an opportunity to watch cable, one of my favourite vices is VH1's Behind the Music. Each episode follows a formula: humble beginnings ... rapid ascent to stardom.... and then a downfall predicated by drug use, sex within the band, a mental breakdown or all of the above. In the final 15 minutes of the program, the artist is either eulogized, or, if still alive, redeemed through AA, therapy, or religious conversion. As if in a replay of Icarus, rock gods propel themselves into an intense spotlight only to plunge from the heavens with melted wings, providing solace to people like me who never got signed to a major label and live very ordinary lives.

"All I'm Cracked Up to Be" appears to follow the VH1 formula initially, but with at least one crucial difference. The book's rock and roll casualty, Jen Trynin, never becomes famous, but we get an excruciatingly intimate glimpse of the mechanics behind her tumble from promise. Trynin, a songwriter turned alt-rock frontwoman in the mid-nineties Boston music scene, is led to believe by industry wags that rock and roll stardom is at hand. Instead her hype-laden career whimpers to a halt despite major label backing.

The book humorously and heartbreakingly demonstrates the ill-effects of music commodification on an artist's sense of self. After Trynin grows tired of the "Sunday-to-Wednesday night folk/acoustic-chick-band-wasteland,"she reinvents herself as a rock star, or at least what she thinks one is. She then self-releases a brilliant CD, and a label war of epic proportions ensues. Her music industry courtship is replete with expensive dinners and first class accommodations, as well as dizzying dialog between Trynin and her lawyer over the financial intricacies of dueling record contracts. Soon a seemingly sweetheart deal from Warner leads to a grueling tour schedule dotted by the monotony of ratty motels, interviews with clueless DJs, and awkward label meet and greets, in stark contrast to the amenities and coddling of the sycophantic bidding period. It is also at odds with her fantasy of life on the road with a surrogate band family.

Trynin becomes disembodied and suffers an identity crisis epitomized by a fight with her bass player over a bowl of nuts and an Alice in Wonderland reaction to too much nyquil while at a hotel where coincidentally, catatonic Beach Boy Brian Wilson is also staying. The label realizes she is "losing it" when she marks a DJ's face with a sharpie. Meanwhile, her hit song begins its descent down the charts before the end of her first tour. Despite releasing a second album to critical acclaim, if not commercial success, she is forced by her label to endure the indignity of performing as an acoustic opener to a insufferable self-righteous lilith fair singer songwriter who just happens to have a hit at the time. Trynin's star doesn't rise according to the record company's timetable and corporate politics shift the engine's attention away from her. Trynin is thus callously cast aside as a "has-been who never was," with strains of Alanis Morisette playing in the background.

Trynin doesn't deny having a hand in her own demise in that she engages in a self-destructive, sexually-charged relationship with her juvenile bass player, reverts to a curt New Jersey demeanor in situations requiring graciousness, and drinks too much on the road. However, her alienation is exacerbated by being a cog in a music industry machine manned by ego-damaging hipsters such as the makeup artist who calls attention to the bags under her eyes and the Warner employee who cautions her not to make faces when she plays guitar. The entities that stand to make money off her don't appear to genuinely care about her or "get" her music. They only see an image of alt-rock heroin chic and hear a cash register. In fact, label honchos stay at the best hotels, on the artist's budget, while their benefactors are shuttled to Motel 6's. Trynin, the talented yet insecure head case, is their perfect pawn until she starts to be "difficult".

Trynin's creative drive is destroyed but she winds up pursuing a life not possible while touring: she goes back to school, marries and has a child. She misses the dream but not the reality of the music business. I didn't sense that she wrote the book to generate pity, but to provide insight into what went wrong with her career and perhaps serve as a caution to those who have their sights on the big time. I knew the book would not end well, but was gripped to the end to learn the how and why. Yet Tryinin does not maliciously point fingers, but instead provides a wryly humorous, yet terrifying view of what can happen when a promising artist surrenders control for career advancement and get sucked in an exploitive whirlwind. I highly recommend this book to any musician kicking themselves because they failed to get signed. You are probably lucky you didn't get what you wished for.

5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
Coulda Been a Contenda
By doomsdayer520
Anyone who knows anything about independent music knows that it's tough on the musicians. I happen to be close friends with several serious hardworking independent musicians who are outstanding talents, and I wish they were all world famous, but we still gotta be realistic. Jen Trynin gives us a pretty enjoyable memoir here, but there's not really too much that's revelatory about it. In a world where there's 10,000 struggling bands for every one superstar, and where trendy untalented saps get rich while serious artists starve, we know that the biz is brutal and everybody gets ripped off by the power players. The biz is known for chewing up and spitting out up-and-comers in the rush for easy profits, and that's kinda like what happened to Jen Trynin, but not quite. The advance descriptions of this book may have you believe that she was badly ripped off, and you might expect an unforgiving report on the slimy underbelly of the music biz. But actually, Trynin was wined and dined by major labels, picked up a lot of hype, was treated reasonably well by the label she signed with, and released two real albums, but the company merely lost interest and dropped her when her career went from hot to cold.

So Trynin's story is less heartbreaking than it is depressingly predictable. It's all surely a good learning experience, and this memoir is usually quite enjoyable as Trynin describes her uphill ride to near-stardom. Her writing isn't too deep but it's frequently funny and sharp-witted. However, when things go downhill and Trynin's career sputters, so does this book. In her increasingly numerous passages about feeling lost and overwhelmed by the biz and its disappointments, Trynin is trying to come across as literary in a dark chick-lit sorta way. But she doesn't really have the writing ability to pull it off, and her attempts at self-examination and deeper insights into the biz just don't go anywhere useful. That goes for her coverage of her mixed-up love life too. This book is still a very fun read for those who love the do-it-yourself rock scene, but it doesn't quite reach as deeply as it thinks it does. [~doomsdayer520~]

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