MixedFull StopWhile the book at times presents as self-promotion of Ribot’s undeniable skill, it more often serves as a testament to his decades of experience in the depths of the brutal music industry. He continuously straddles the line between memoir and fiction as he travels an eclectic road of loss, justice, tribute, and blunt humor ... His essays are raw and, as the title affirms, sometimes written with the uncensored energy of a rant ... Ribot ogles his mentors, wide-eyed in his praise, yet at times his writing is cringingly pretentious. The musician’s vernacular often drowns out the childlike wonder he feels for his forebearers, burying his most alluring glimmers of innocence ... he takes on an academic tone, referencing Nietzsche and using excessive ellipses for dramatic effect. In such an eclectic context as Unstrung, these references fall short, alienating the reader from the raw power of the music itself. Ribot is at his best when he says what he means ... although Ribot uses overly specific vernacular at times, lightly edited for the non-musician’s ear, his prose pulls the sympathetic reader into a place of melancholy understanding of the ordinary musician’s struggle ... Bordering on cliché at times, each narrative redeems itself with flashes of dark humor and poignant father-daughter moments. Ribot’s reflections on fatherhood are quietly touching ... Unstrung is pure, full of good intentions in the form of occasional word vomit and abundant sarcasm.
