Rating: 
Summary: Great
Review: Well researched, revealing and enjoyable account of the tumultuous life of the farmer's son from Oregon who went on to become one of the most important song stylists of the 20th century. From his early years of struggle in sleazy, small town saloons through to the dizzy heights of international stardom and then finally back to the endless, depressing monotony of the suburban cabaret circuit,this captivating biography lays bare the crazy, mixed up world of "Celebrity" with all it's bizarre peculiarities. One thing shines through in this book i.e... it appeared to be virtually impossible for the author to find ANYONE who had a seriously bad word to say about Johnnie and perhaps THAT's the nicest tribute of all !The only minor flat spot was the amount of space devoted to Dorothy Kilgallen's involvement in the JFK case. No one's more interested in the "Camelot" era than yours truly but it didn't seem to have much (if anything) to do with the primary subject of this book. Still , it was neatly self contained and I just skipped over the "Problem Area". I'm a long time fan. If I thought this was a lousy read I would be straining at the bit to say so but it isn't - it's great.Buy the book, buy the CDs, watch the videos and enjoy the artistry of "Mr Excitement", - the fabulous JOHNNIE RAY !
Rating: 
Summary: Even The Subject's Own Web Site Downplays It
Review: With all due respect to Mr. Patience, the Australian who praised this book a few months ago, I must point out the difference between a forgotten artist's legacy and a writer's attempt to interest a large audience in the artist's * life. *In Australia people have the impression that Johnnie Ray lives on as a father of rock & roll, that he belongs up there with Sinatra, Elvis and Buddy Holly. In the United States such is not the case. He is forgotten. This lurid book isn't the way to bring him back. Even the Johnnie Ray web site seems to agree. It includes surprisingly few references to the text, and it's the only book we're going to get. Too many people have died. All right, I will stick to evidence as the last reviewer did. Page 45: "A contemplation of his painful adolescence, the song [Little White Cloud That Cried whose music and lyrics Johnnie wrote] was an anthemic summation of Johnnie's experience, drawn both from agonies past and the present struggle to understand his sexuality." Really ? How do we know that ? Mr. Whiteside does not cite an interview with The Cry Guy in which he says the lyrics suggested anything about his sexual preference. And remember, Johnnie was involved with women as well as men during that era. Page 233: "Johnnie was spread out like a free lunch [drunk wearing a Scottish kilt at a Detroit party after he became famous], surrounded by several tuxedo clad closet queens actively engaged in satisfying their hands-on curiosity over what a man wore under his kilts." How do we know that ? Mr. Whiteside says African American jazz singer Thelma Carpenter supposedly witnessed this scene, but her direct quotes don't provide those sensational details. Mr. Whiteside does. Ms. Carpenter is deceased now. Mr. Whiteside provides no other source. Oh, well. Page 243: "Johnnie became fast friends with Christopher George, making his acquaintance after the strapping actor wowed New York's gay community with a topless appearance in a deodorant commercial." You mean the Marlboro Man covered up too much to acquire a gay following ? This goes beyond sensationalism. It is a lurid act of outing a dead actor who never became very famous. Mr. Whiteside's fey choice of words doesn't help. Christopher George died several years before Mr. Whiteside started work on the book. He even predeceased Johnnie Ray. The Los Angeles Times said he died of a heart attack and was survived by his wife, the beautiful actress Lynda Day George. She won an Emmy Award for her work on Archie Bunker's Place. One hopes her ignorance of the Whiteside book is blissful. As you can see, Jonny Whiteside isn't reviving a forgotten artist. He's just another Los Angeles writer outing defenseless people and hurling dung. Instead of paying big bucks for this book (that's what it costs to dig it out of a remainder warehouse), please spend your money on a Johnnie Ray CD and the occasional supermarket tabloid.
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