“The first time I drank piss was on a fire escape overlooking downtown Los Angeles.” So begins the memoir on NOFX. If you can get past that first sentence, the payoff is worth it.
The book about one of punk rocks goofiest, yet brilliantly successful DIY outfits, has plenty of gross out remembrances (the Hepatitis bathtub in the title being one of the most stomach churning), but it also manages to be surprisingly sincere. Told through the voices of all the current and former band members, there are a number of intimate revelations throughout the text, including one member discussing for the first time about his own molestation as a child and two other members opening up about their failure to stop a potential rape.
Much like the band’s music, which buries moments of deep political and emotional topics inside of goofy, often sophomoric humor, the book’s emotive moments are buttressed by wild stories about partying on the road and playing in front of a crowd of four in one club. Even if you’ve never been a big fan of NOFX, the book is a refreshing honest look at a struggling independent band dead set on compromising nothing and still managing to be successful.