Rating: 
Summary: Part of the problem, not the solution
Review: Uninspired Saturday-Night-at-the-Improv riffs on obvious targets. The food at Red Lobster is homogenized, breaded 'n fried swill? New age music sucks? Wow, good thing we have a certified, published critic to inform us.
Rating: 
Summary: Laughed Out Loud
Review: I heard an interview with Queenan plugging RW&B on NPR's "Connections". I laughed out loud in the car and drove around town before going home so that i could keep the radio on. I bought the book. I laughed out loud. As my wife slept I lay next to her reading the part about Patrick Swayze. I laughed out loud.Not two days after I finished the book, one of my employees mentioned that she and her boyfriend loved Phil Collins. I asked why. "Because his lyrics are so easy to remember" I'd met the boyfriend before and he also happened to fit the profile of a Kenny G man (relief pitcher haircut and personality to match.For that matter, so did she). "How 'bout Kenny G? You guys like Kenny G?" "Oh yeah" she fairly cried out. "We love his stuff.We have a bunch of his stuff at home. Why?" I told her there'd been a survey. She left and I laughed out loud. I wish he'd spent more time blasting Sammy Davis Jr. I know he's dead and can't defend himself but Queenan doesn't appear to be the type of person who would let a thing like that stop him. Also,unless I missed something, he never attacked "Bridges Of Madison County" and should be called on the carpet for it. Other than that, I loved the book. If you want some good oldfashioned, snotnosed sarcasm, buy this book.
Rating: 
Summary: A Hilarious Book about a serious problem
Review: The good old USA is great when it comes to democracy, but when it comes to culture, sheesh! The author plumbs the depths of Cretinia in this hilarious send-up of shmaltz. He dove into tacky culture for a year (plus some) to see what was at the bottom of it, seeking out the worst of the worst. In his travels he was surprised by some performers who's work was unexpectedly delightful: namely, Barry Manilow and Wayne Newton. Overall, one of the most cathartic books I've ever read. To me Dostoyevski always seemed better than Stephen King, more true to life, more nuanced, more interesting. The same too with Bach vs. Kenny G. and Shakespeare vs. Andrew Lloyd Webber, but to judge from the taste of the tacky world around me all those greats we studied in school should take a back seat to Barbara Streisand and Madonna. But Mr. Queenan has come to the rescue to assure me that there are others who agree that over-the-top melodramatic lyrics and bright baubles on performers' costumes and embossed lettering on book titles written in curly-que script are not necessarily the earmarks of quality. Thank you Mr. Queenan!
Rating: 
Summary: Borrow it from the library!
Review: It starts off well, but by the end of the book, I was a little tired of his repetitious style of criticism. Perhaps it was me, but in a few instances, I wasn't sure whether he was praising or insulting something! I almost bought the book, but then decided to check it out from the public library. I'm glad I didn't buy it. There are, however, some gems in it, of which I would like to share one: (slightly paraphrased) "John Tesh, like diptheria, will always be with us."
Rating:
Summary: I only wish he wrote about "Titanic" and Ticketmaster, too!
Review: My pointed sense of cynical humor just about matches Joe Queenan's to a tee--I thought I'd just reveal that bias now and get it out of the way. "Red Lobster" is a surgical expose of Queenan's foray into pop culture, but let's face it--it's also snobbery to the nth degree. Insightful snobbery, sharply written snobbery, downright enjoyable snobbery--but snobbery nonetheless. For that reason alone, "Red Lobster" is not going to be everyone's cup of tea. But it sure as hell was mine. Queenan's skewering of pop culture icons is pretty thorough and pretty hysterical (I just wish he waited for the "Titanic" phenomenon before he wrote this book), but it's almost unrelenting. However, he's forced to admit that at least a couple of those things he expected to hate really aren't that bad after all--chiefly because those things don't pretend to be anything more than they are. Queenan doesn't have a problem with simple, chinzy and shallow--just as long as it isn't pretentious. That is Queenan's real gripe with most pop culture--shallow stuff wrapped up as high art. The best chapter by far deals with literary hacks, and delivers the finest backhanded complementary essay I've ever heard in my life! His tirades on such things are often poisonous--but come on. In your heart, you know he's right.
Rating:
Summary: Skip it
Review: A thouroughly repellent book. Queenan repeatedly makes it clear that his beef is not in fact with "Cats" or Danielle Steele or Kenny G, but with the people who enjoy them. The pseudo-hip notion that lack of sophistication is a good excuse for contempt ought to be buried with the decade that gave it birth. As for Queenan, these latter-day Menckens ought to pay a little more attention to how the master ended his days. You can't douse everybody in sight with hatred without splattering yourself too. Lighten up, Joe.
Rating:
Summary: not bad
Review: Queenan is a good trash talker - he has a marvelous way with words - but his criticism of modern culture is at times tiresome and repetitive.
Rating:
Summary: Boring, Bad, Not worth your time
Review: There may have been enough material here for a humorous column - unfortunately the author spreads it out (not unlike manure) through an entire book. Mr. Queenan, we get it: You don't like Billy Joel, You don't like Phil Colins, You don't like Billy Joel AND Phil Colins, You don't like Phil Colins, Yanni and Billy Joel. (If reading this was painful, you'll hate the redundancy of the book.) The irony here is, his book belongs to the same category of schlock and mediocrity that he runs on and on (and on) about in the book. Mr. Queenan, stick to writing articles.
Rating:
Summary: cynical, witty, and just fun
Review: if you're feeling fed up with pop culture and all of the tripe that it tries to shove down your throat, rest easy... joe queenan is here with a defense that's mightier than the swordfish pate, and for this readers occasional mood, it was just what the doctor ordered. his thoughts on broadway, film, food, fiction and rock& roll are absolutely hysterical, and all because they are entirely true. he's an arrogant, intellectual, self proclaimed music and film specialist with a tendency towards masochism for sport. this is a must read for anyone about to release any kind of product that was created while listening to john tesh or yanni, or for that matter, even owns any of these artists records. BEWARE OF DOG JOE QUEENAN!
Rating:
Summary: there is still a slew of vapid work out there...
Review: ....so the fight must go on. Sure, Queenan takes easy pot shots at some fairly obvious cultural dillettantes who are plying their ridiculous work -- be it fiction or jazz. Quit compalining about his supposed "cultural elitism" and let Queenan's satire help to errode this wasteland of flotsam and jetsam. Look, Danielle Steel, (or is it Steele -- who cares?)will earn millions this year. Kenny G has sold millions of CDs, whereas Richard Thompson has probably sold a few thousand. Cher is charging $75.00 for a concert ticket this summer and the show barely lasts 90 minutes. Stop the madness!! But really, the sad thing is that his book -- like many other critiques of American bad taste -- will probably only REACH very few people that it is targeted towards. But maybe, somewhere, somehow, ONE culturally-challenged person read this book...they were transformed...they got all their Kenny G CDs together...they put them in pile and lit them with lighter fluid a la Hendrix at Monterey...they saw the light...
| 
