magazine journalist turned novelist, coined the term ‘hypnagogic pop’, its exponents making “pop music refracted through the memory of a memory”.
At first, this scattershot, intertextual approach might make this book seem finicky. I did find Part Two a little too discontinuous with Part One. And Keenan’s formal innovations, what with all the chopping and changing, can come at the expense of character investment. He’s both wistfully admiring and also slightly mocking of the sixties’ guilelessness. Reading this singular book, you feel the ecstatic possibilities of expanding consciousness.