I am not a person who is familiar with music. I don't live in that world. Concerts are terrifying experiences that frighten my introverted self into hiding. This book was not written for a person like me. I felt like, to genuinely love this book, one would have to be a music lover, and while I enjoy listening to music, that's about the extent of it for me. It's kind of a foreign world. It would be interesting to read about, but the terminology left me mostly lost and confused. The latter part of the book was easier to get through, as the focus shifted from the music to the people, and the characters became humanized and likable, developed beyond a shared interest in music. It was just a hit or miss book for me, where I loved the philosophical musings on life and love, and felt myself drowning in namedrops and references that I couldn't understand. I can see the appeal, I can see why so many people do love this book, and that's great that they can find so much significance in their reading experiences, I just personally can't, and that's okay, too.