Solid autobiography with harrowing passages

Of course I was expecting in this book no ground work on the meteoric career of a rock star as a dream factory like sold. But the chasms that open up in this book were, but then surprisingly and sometimes disturbing. Slash and his co-author point to merciless, glamorous it may be as little as the bond between success, publicity and internal dissensions at the human level is ground. Even rock stars are people just appear very vulnerable when the Common lost. Here we read nothing of the gods a la Wayne's World. The remarks to his heroin addiction can not leave you indifferent one.

What me at all sincerity but then missing was more about the music. Just like Slash describes it here, the music was a byproduct of his excessive life. He who moves the feeling the guitar before the virtuosity itself are buttoned something here. Maybe it was not possible for him to write about it more, and perhaps the music was actually passing. I would just like to read more. Because after a while you fatigued a little when excesses are part of everyday life.

In addition, I found revealing that Slash in conditions that were close to him, especially in detail his motives justified (sometimes too detailed) to his actions succinctly "so am I just" do to some other time. But that's only human - and thus sympathetic again.

Ultimately, a highly recommended book to read necessarily in English. Only the music was a bit too short to me.