Rainy day, so I just cranked through it. There's very little outside of a previously-linked article by Caryn Rose at Salon for me to add, so I'll make a couple of comments and steer you over to there.
(1) TMI. Exhaustive detail of what they were wearing and where the puke landed (ceiling, in one case) when things got out of control. Interesting for a while, and maybe it adds to the flavor of the story, but damn, after 500+ pages it got to be a bit much. Hard to see to forest for the trees, although this level of detail does show you the pine needles. Probably best read in one rainy weekend gulp.
(2) Started grim, turned fun, then turned into a slog about 1986. Then I started to hate a formerly favorite band. "Here, here's the brass ring, let me hand it to you!" "*SLAP*clang*". Wash, rinse, repeat, until even the deep-pocketed, used-to-Keith-Richards'-nonsense, coked-up record company execs had had enough. But by the end... I began to see again why things went down the way they did, and mostly can listen to their music now. Again, probably best read in one rainy weekend gulp.
OK, got nothing more to add. Go read over at Salon now, that'll tell you everything else – no spoilers, btw – you need to know.
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