Rock industry leader shares memoir

Danny Goldberg might not be a household name, but many of the rock stars with whom he's worked are. His tale is the true Cinderella story of a kid who was in the right place at the right time, starting at the bottom of the rock business and eventually conquering it as the leader of several of the industry's biggest labels.

As a teenage rock fan in 1968, Goldberg lucked his way into the music industry, finding an entry-level clerical job with the music trade magazine Billboard -- only realizing after the first day, he claims, that it had nothing to do with roadside advertising. From there, his career advances as he receives one lucky break after another, beginning with a press trip to Woodstock after Billboard's other staffers pass up the assignment.

Over the following decades he proves to be an able publicist and executive, handling public relations for Led Zeppelin at the peak of their fame before moving on to other artists including Kiss, Stevie Nicks, Bonnie Raitt and, late in his career, Nirvana and Warren Zevon. Eventually, he is asked to lead Atlantic Records, later accepting similar roles at Warner Bros. Records and Mercury Records Group.

Goldberg simultaneously occupies the worlds of art and commerce, and he is well aware that the two don't always mix. His book straddles the same line, as he shifts between the roles of rock fan and entrepreneur. Some chapters -- including the one on his most legendary client, Led Zeppelin -- read more like a business memoir than anything else. But he lavishes attention on Nirvana, offering some choice opinions on conspiracy theories surrounding the suicide of front man Kurt Cobain, and his admiration for Fleetwood Mac singer Stevie Nicks borders on worship.

There are at least as many faceless behind-the-scenes people in this book as actual rock stars, and their names will mean little to all but industry insiders and the most die-hard rock nerds. That is perhaps an unfair criticism for a book about rock's business side, but readers looking for lurid tales of rock 'n' roll excess should be forewarned.

And the book is not without entertaining anecdotes about familiar artists. There's this gem, for example: Goldberg was on the receiving end of an impassioned discourse on rock by Gene Simmons -- the blood-spitting alpha-male mastermind of Kiss -- when Simmons' Jewish mother unexpectedly showed up offering a plate of matzoh and eggs.

There is tragedy, too. Goldberg's recollection of a terminally ill Zevon recording his final album is particularly moving, as is his description of the aftermath of Cobain's suicide.

Goldberg portrays himself as a man of principle, but he is candidly unapologetic about some of the sneaky tricks he deployed with his partners in crime, including lying to the press, fabricating endorsements from local politicians and enticing a Billboard staffer to fudge sales chart figures.

However, he appears to draw the line at suckering his own artists. While he acknowledges that the rock business often leaves musicians with the short end of the stick, if Goldberg was ever less than on the level with his own artists, he doesn't share it here.

Taken as an "Almost Famous"-type rock fable, "Bumping Into Geniuses" is a disappointment. But for readers wanting a look behind the curtain, Goldberg offers valuable personal experience that only the music industry's elite are equipped to share.