B-Sides and Broken Hearts by Caryn Rose and 33 Days by Bill See
One for the road …make that two, for the road warriors

If you’ve ever sat in a diner at 3 a.m. after a concert and hashed over the set list minute by minute, song by song—or marked the events in your life by what tour was taking place at the time, or which record was just released—or waited in line all night to buy concert tickets—or spent endless hours trying to master the guitar licks or drum fills in your favorite songs—or driven across the country to see a show, or play a show—then likely you will enjoy Caryn Rose’s and Bill See’s new books. And if you’re reading Paste, it’s a good bet that music isn’t just the background to your life—it’s a constant companion, a trusted friend, the angel on your shoulder. Both these memoirs have a pounding, infectious rock ’n’ roll heartbeat running like a bass line. Both stories are concerned with flying through the flame—and coming out the other side, battered and singed, older and wiser.
Lisa Simon, the protagonist of Caryn Rose’s book B-Sides and Broken Hearts, finds her life turned upside down and inside out after Joey Ramone’s death on April 15, 2001. As the story begins, she’s trying to make sense of this news and feeling so wounded she can barely function. She copes by playing Ramones records—on vinyl, of course (“if ever there was an analog band, it’s the Ramones”). It’s a watershed moment in her relationship with her boyfriend, made all the more apparent when she notes that he has, actually, been listening to Dave Matthews. “We don’t listen to Dave Matthews … We’re the people who drive 300 miles in one night to see Sonic Youth,” says Lisa. A breach of taste like this is serious enough for a breakup.
Rose’s book time-hops through the late ’70s/early ’80s to the present. We find Lisa Simon on the road—distributing fanzines at the foot of the stage at club gigs in New York City, moving to Seattle, and eventually landing in L.A. For Lisa, each city turns out to have its angels and demons.
Author Rose was determined to write the novel she always wanted to read—a book from a female rock fan’s POV that showed that “music could wrap its tendrils around our hearts and lives just like it does for guys,” as she says on the book’s website. The story concerns her relationship with a band that lives next door to her in Seattle and later breaks out to be world-famous. She’s a friend they respect, and they take her advice seriously, as when she suggests to the lead singer: “Jake—you are thinking Mick, when you should be thinking Keith. Keith, 1972.”