Appetite for Self-Destruction

Early in Steve Knopper’s exhaustively reported examination of what he calls “the spectacular crash of the record industry in the digital age,” the Rolling Stone contributor reveals why the original compact disc had a maximum running time of 74 minutes: According to former Sony Corp. of America CEO Mickey Schulhof, fellow Sony man Norio Ohga insisted that any CD brought to market under his watch must be capable of accommodating Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony in its entirety. Why? Because Ohga spent his college years singing classical music at the Tokyo National University of Fine Arts and Music.

That’s the kind of detail with which Knopper spins his yarn, a complicated intermingling of technological ignorance, financial greed and alpha-male obstinacy. Yet thanks to his nose for the story’s human element—not to mention the colorful language of his record-biz sources, who trip over themselves assigning one another blame for missing the boat on downloading—Appetite for Self-Destruction rarely feels like a dull marketing memo. Indeed, the best parts of the book, such as Knopper’s analysis of the late-’90s teen-pop bubble (and how it ultimately burst), move with the style and drama of a great legal thriller—think Michael Clayton with headphones.

The lack of an original interview with Apple chief Steve Jobs blunts the impact of Appetite’s final third, in which Knopper charts the rise of the iTunes Music Store (a real shame, as digging beneath Jobs’s inscrutable public persona seems like the sort of task the author was cut out for). And Knopper’s musical descriptions can leave something to be desired: Who knew Radiohead’s Kid A was a work of “experimental jazz-rock”? Still, this is gripping stuff. Crank it up.

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