The coming-of-age story is as old as adolescence, as well worn as that crossing line between boy and man (the story is still largely a masculine one – the feminine side of the coin is a much different one, and has been much less explored). Matthew Specktor doesn’t reinvent the wheel on That Summertime Sound, his love note to that one amazing summer & that one amazing band, to the idea of having that one amazing summer & seeing that one amazing band. In fact, there’s a lot of tough going through much of the novel, from the first person narrative out of a first person who’s hard to like, let alone identify with, to his tendency to tell the reader how great something is, as opposed to actually making it seem great. Yet Sound ends on just the right note, capping a summer which might have had its dog days, but also a beautiful sunset.
Much of what’s difficult or unimpressive about That Summertime Sound lies with the protagonist, a freshman in college spending the summer in his roommate’s hometown of Columbus, Ohio in 1986 (he’s from L.A., not that that fact or anything else about his past before college, before that summer, is much explored or commented upon, except when used to give a counterpoint to Columbus, to make the town seem more special). There’s the way he follows his friend Marcus out to Columbus, but yet somehow also has disdain for his fellow collegiate/follower ‘Invisible Dan’ (who’s following the other Columbus resident at their college, Dan’s pined-for Lena). There’s his on-again/off-again romance in Columbus – either pining for his love interest almost as badly as Invisible Dan when not with her, or passive-aggressively mistrusting her when they are together. And there’s the first-person narrative itself, which only succeeds in exposing the narrator’s annoying little flaws, like HDTV for literary characters.
And then there’s his musical obsession, the noise-punk-party-rock-destruction that is The Lords of Oblivion, and frontman Nic Devine. But then there’s his musical obsession, born out of a single seven-inch, which propelled him to summer in Columbus. Specktor fails to truly translate why his protagonist, why you, should love The Lords of Oblivion – despite the promised-for name-checking of art-punk eighties greats like Hüsker Dü (QRO spotlight on), most of the music & artists mentioned in That Summertime Sound seem to be seventies or earlier, often referred to in disgust by the narrator. However, Nic Devine (who replaces the disappearing Marcus after the first section) easily proves to be the most interesting & enjoyable character, and the narrator’s love for The Lords provides at least a core, at least a heart, for the novel.
It also sets up That Summertime Sound‘s surprisingly effective close. While much of the goings-ons of the various Columbus characters is decent, they’re shortened for the focus on/by the protagonist/narrator, which doesn’t make them any more accessible (or memorable), or him any more likable. But it does leave space for the narrator’s twin romances, the girl of his dreams & the band of his dreams, and it all culminates at a grand concert performance, one which shocks you in how much you find yourself suddenly invested in the narrator & his two loves. It also doesn’t fall into the trap of having a single pinnacle moment, but instead makes the show a whole ride, from start to finish. In fact, the ending avoids the classic pitfall of the coming-of-age story, of making the story as a whole so dramatic & climatic as to be impossible to fit into any actual life, some age that could never really come.
The back of That Summertime Sound has a blurb extolling the book from Jonathan Lethem, the bard of Brooklyn music snobs ever since his acclaimed 2003 New York Times bestseller, The Fortress of Solitude. Much of Sound feels like sub-Lethem (something Lethem himself has been accused of ever since Solitude…) – the deep dive into the post-hippie American music world, the proto-hipster protagonist, the detailed city blocks (if of Columbus, and not Brooklyn), and a truly ‘supporting’ cast, save the protagonist’s fascinating & elusive McGuffin (thought without Lethem’s trademark leavening within of speculative/science-fiction). Like most coming-of-age stories, it’s been done before, to better effect. However, the narrator/protagonist – and Specktor himself – actually come of age, and into their own. By the end of That Summer, you may still have more than your fair share of gripes about That Time, but you’ll also find yourself fondly remembering That Sound.
