I love autobiographies and I love rock and roll in all its many hairy permutations, so what could be better than reviewing a stack of autobiographies written by musicians? That’s a rhetorical question, I’m going to do it anyway. By chance I may also speak of Rachel Dolezal (again), Compton’s Most Wanted, White Indians, survivalist cults, Saturday Night Live, jumping off a cliff after work and prophesies foretold.