Book by Williams, Paul Williams is one of the architects of serious rock criticism, having founded Crawdaddy! magazine in 1966 and written 14 books and numerous articles since. But during the 1970s rock and roll became less central to him; this book chronicles his enthusiastic rediscovery of the music in 1985-86. Though written in conversational style, this is more than a diary; contemporary recordings and live performances trigger discussions of central aesthetic issues of rock: social vs. personal meanings; the significance of the Top 40; recordings vs. live concerts vs. videos; etc. The book is interesting because Williams is interestingalert, thoughtful, and ever-questioning (even with regard to his own tastes and beliefs). Recommended for popular music collections. Mark H. Sullivan, Univ. of North Carolina at Charlotte Lib. Copyright 1988 Reed Business Information, Inc. His subtitle says it all. Founder of Crawdaddy! In 1966 Paul Williams was one of the pioneers of rock journalism until he dropped out in the 1970s; now he's back- The Map is the story of how and why it happened. We know that rock music is basically youth-oriented. Loudly and clearly it expresses much of the energy and rebelliousness of young adulthood. For most of us, with maturity come other concerns and a concurrent lessening of interest in rock n' roll. especially in its newest and most challenging forms. This was the author's experience, too-except that at age thirty-seven he underwent a sort of personal rock revival and was bom again musically. It came at the behest of old Eriends and the insistence of his two young sons. Williams began to retune into the latest progressive music, overcoming preconceived notions and prejudices as simple as distaste for bands with names like "Tears for Fears" and "A Flock of Seagulls": "I'd had this idea in my head ... that anything released by a new wave record company in San Francisco in 1985 would be some kind of angry experimental punkrelated sound." Wrong! He found instead that the new sounds were often surprisingly melodic, upbeat, entrancing. And yet they had that old primal rock force and the* ability to grab guts, heart, and head. At a Lone Justice concert he is "transfixed," as he recalls first seeing Janis Joplin and Jim Morrison perform two decades earlier. Another time he feels as though he's stumbled upon some brash new talent-just as he'd felt years past with the Velvet Underground-when in the recording studio as a new band, Translator, cuts an album. Later, sitting in on their mix.down sessions reminds him of backstage camaraderie of groups such as the Who and Cream. He starts to buy albums and CDs of HUsker Dii and the Violent Fernmes, whose music "jangles" him, yet somehow satisfies his rekindled, keen-again appetite. But The Map is more than just an anecdotal reminiscence-satisfying as that would be with the author's rock-insider background. Wiliams ranges over the whole subject of popular music as a cultural and social phenomenon. He examines the idea of "progress": although rock evolves, today's songs are not ten or twenty times "better" than those of Chuck Berry's, which also retain their validity because rock itself exists outside of time. Reflecting on the 1960s, Williams sees it as a time of "collective illusion," of youth bonding together in search of a higher truth through their music. Today, with the loss of that sense of community, the seeking is more individual, the maps more personalized. Yet the rewards of rock as a means of self-renewal and personal growth are still there for those with open minds and listening ears. Welcome back, Paul! -- From Independent Publisher Used Book in Good Condition