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Publishers WeeklyRepetitive and vague, this memoir from former Korn bassist Fieldy is a slog only fans could love. For 200 pages, addiction dominates the narrative of Fieldy's rock and roll career, which revolves numbingly around the same two points: "I didn't realize what a jerk I was" and "I didn't want to talk... I just wanted to drink and get high." That might explain why he can't seem to remember much from the band's early days, painted in broad strokes: "It was a rough tour but we still managed to do whatever was necessary to get through"; "Somehow, between all of the tours and being on the road, I had gotten my first wife pregnant." Fieldy fares better when he reaches the recovery and faith stage, confessing that "I don't want my children to go through the depths of hell to discover there's a better way." Fieldy's redemption seems sincere (though readers may wonder if his apologetic letters to former friends weren't written for the book), but his tale is strictly for those impressed by details like "I knew DJ Lethal from his days of being in House of Pain, though he would later join Limp Bizkit." Photos.
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