Still, it isn’t only those featured responsible for such lacklustre content. The interviewers and editors should surely know that it reeks of complacency to hope that the inclusion alone of the most successful porn star, hedonist guitar player or notorious criminal commands the necessary rebellious kudos if these people have nothing original to say. The interviews with serial killers Richard Ramirez and Charles Manson were so tedious — so many words to say nothing — I was left wondering how Manson managed to hold anyone’s attention let alone convince people to kill for him. More disturbing were the interviews with GG Allin and Peter Sotos, absolutely unapologetic in their enjoyment of violence for its own sake. Obviously, I wouldn’t like to meet either in a dark alley but, again, neither said anything that surprised me, their interviews keeping their personas intact. More interviews pass with sufficient controversial opinions aired: Marilyn Manson, Anton LaVey, The Great Kat, Varg Vikernes, Tiny Tim, and although the million dollar publicity machines of a Beyonce or a Tom Cruise are not present, there is the same pervading sense of the protection of a brand, the championing of a lifestyle, of the audience’s expectations to be confirmed. I would prefer to be astonished.

So, mostly, it bothered me that the interviewers didn’t seem to be interested in probing or challenging, their subjects opining vaguely, while I continued to feel like I was missing something. Sometimes, though, there was amiable chat about life, work and art. Again, there wasn’t much to shock or disturb, but the conversations were engaging and stimulating. JG Ballard’s musings on the psychology of space travel, why people lost interest in the space age and the effect of the Apollo missions on the astronauts who took part were enjoyable. So, too, were the interviews with John Waters, Allen Ginsberg, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry, Henry Rollins, Afrika Bambatta and Joe Coleman. Bobby Beausoleil was open and generous in talking of his experiences with Arthur Lee and Kenneth Anger, as well as Charles Manson and the biker gangs that lead to him killing a man during a drug deal. His incarceration hasn’t curtailed his musical career and he has done some pioneering work with synthesisers. The bitching between David Bowie and Jayne (neé Wayne) County was another amusing highlight. Another highlight, in an entirely different way, was the interview with George Eric Hawthorne, lead singer of Rahowa (acronym for Racial Holy War), a White Power metal band. The increasing popularity of white supremist music and politics should be concerning, but Hawthorne’s remarks, littered with contradictions and ludicrous statements made me laugh out loud. When he says “there is no piece of real estate that is exclusively white” you wonder whether you should take him round the streets of Beverly Hills, Kensington or the New Town and engage in a quality versus quantity debate. Yes, ridicule is what this sorry lot deserve. I’m not even sure what the “great European tradition” is, but, really, is it so bad that the kids are listening to hip hop instead of Mozart?

So, a mixed bag. A lot of words and yet my curiosity is left unsatisfied. To be fair, it’s possible that many of these Generation X ideas have dated. It’s also true that, even as a teenager, I never really subscribed to the slacker, grunge, stoner culture so I’m not the target audience. Still, after this, I’ve not been converted and I remain unconvinced that there is much beyond surface subversion in most of these pages. This is, possibly, taking it too seriously and maybe I just don’t get the joke. Time, then, to get the knits back on.

Vikki Reilly is from Edinburgh, where she works for a small independent publisher. She runs a monthly book club, attempts to make her own clothes, loves to dance and will forever dream of being the ultimate rock n' roll frontwoman despite rarely singing in public. She has decided to start writing again after years of procrastination.

© 2006 Laura Hird All rights reserved.