Then It Fell Apart

Singer Moby's second memoir (after 2016's Porcelain) is organized into 65 time-skipping chapters, scattered from 1965 through 2008 and filled with fascinating characters and memorable meetings with celebrities and politicians. Angst and drug abuse weave the tales together, but what could have been a meaningful and reflective exploration into creativity, addiction, and recovery quickly reveals itself as a series of self-indulgent journal entries seeking readers' simultaneous sympathy for Moby's celebrity-fueled descent into addiction and awe for that lavish lifestyle. It's difficult to connect to the author's story when it feels more like emotionally detached boasting, especially when he mentions how boring threesomes became while pointing out the brand name and thread count of his sheets. This is less a tale of a poor boy poisoned by celebrity and more of a humblebrag with product placement and name-dropping.