You know, it seems like there are no movements in the world of music or fashion or film anymore. Everything's the same, commercial and boring. That's not to say it's ALL bad, but still, I do feel like my generation has missed out on the excitement and energy of being a part of something big, and that's why I love reading about London's punk era. Wish I was there. This book particularly stands out to me among the many I've read by people who were there, as "Berlin" writes with no agenda. Just tells it like it is, all the behind-the-scenes stuff that reading only about major events will make you curious about. I think I related to this book more than John Lydon's or any of the books written about Sid Vicious, too, because the memories being relayed are that of a gay teenager. I read this book in one day, devoured it. I wish I could find a way to write the author.