Time for another look at an existing rock biography that may have escaped your literary radar. Last time, I reviewed Mötley Crüe’s Nikki Sixx’s excellent paean to self-pity and self-destruction, The Heroin Diaries. This time around, it’s his band mate, drug buddy, and human puppet toy, Tommy Lee’s 2004 autobiography Tommyland.

First off, Tommy Lee is a dick.

Or, rather, I should say; first off, Tommy Lee’s dick shoots off the festivities.

Yes, the first four pages of introduction are told from a conversation between Tommy and his dick, better known as “Dick.” Seriously. Complete with splooge graphics, in case you don’t quite know what a dick is. This annoying character pops up throughout the book at the weirdest times to make inane observations about bathroom blowjobs, Pamela Anderson, and rumspringa.

In fact, this character is indicative (see what I did there?) of the inanity that is Tommyland. If you are interested in picking up this book and learning about the dirt on Mötley Crüe from the alleged wild man’s perspective, be prepared to be let down. Instead of digging into a deep hole of Mötley depravity, the book is more interested in Tommy Lee, the permanent ‘90s tabloid fixture.

As a result, all of the gory details of Tommy Lee’s love life are spewed out onto the pages. Well, except for the one that most people want to know about: Heather Locklear. I mean, c’mon; we all know the gynecological details of Pamela Anderson. Lee, however, gives the reader blue balls when it comes to his second wife, Locklear. We learn she comes from a conservative family, works way too much, and doesn’t want kids. Nothing about how a supposed good girl got hooked up with rock’s most notorious bad boy or how they stayed together for seven years.

If you have an interest in learning how Lee and Anderson met, got married, fought, and fucked, then this is the book for you. Of course, most of these tales have already been recounted in the tabloids and on Pam and Tommy infamous “stolen” sex tape. So, snore.

Another annoying aspect of Tommyland is the interruptions by Lee’s co-author Anthony Bozza. Literal interruptions, as well as stylistic “voice” interruptions. The literal ones usually occur in the form of inane and completely pointless footnotes that point out the most obvious and non-rockstarish moments possible such as definitions of Mormonism, No-Slips footwear, Japanese bullet trains, Frederich Nietzsche, and Erin Brockovich. Again, seriously.

The stylistic “voice” interruptions are less obvious, but even more annoying. Tommy Lee has never come across as the most intelligent of beings on the planet. That is not a bad thing. In fact, it is one of the qualities that have endeared him to millions of fans. So when Tommy’s written voice alters from rock star Animal (as in the Muppets) to Poindexter, sometimes within the same sentence, it rings false. It seems transparent and too apparent that the hired gun has taken over the writing chores and delivered a semantically appropriate homework assignment instead of a “kick ass balls-to-the-wall rock ‘n roll fuck all” memoir.

It’s not all limp-dicked. Lee’s story about his band teacher is amusing and the beginning of Mötley Crüe is entertaining. Also, the fact that both Sixx and Lee in their respective books, paint Crüe lead singer Vince Neil as a complete douchebag is telling. But, otherwise, that’s it.

Oh well, if none of the aforementioned tidbits blow up your skirt, there’s always the stickman flipbook animation.

If you want to learn about Tommy Lee’s dick, his celebrity sperm receptacles, and his affinity for hip hop, then this is the book for you. If you want a different, unique perspective on Mötley Crüe, rockstar nihilism, or anything even remotely “heavy metal,” be sure to pass on Tommyland.

(one limp dick outta five)

-CM