Marc Spitz wants you to know that he’s in on the joke. The title Poseur indicates a certain amount of self-awareness, and indeed Spitz uses his memoir to look back on his life with a healthy amount of bemusement. Following his life from suburban comfort to urban counter-cultural glory, Poseur seems to want to portray Spitz’s story as that of a kid who got into bohemia for all the wrong reasons, but all that is undercut by Spitz himself describing his life in BoHo downtown New York with breathless wonder, even as he’s talking about how much of a prick he was.

Ultimately, Spitz just seems too in love with himself to pull off the sort of self-aware shtick that Poseur obviously aims for. While he admits that his stay at the legendary Hotel Chelsea was not as earth-shattering as he expected it to be, his description is so starry-eyed and amazed that any self-awareness is gone. Kudos must be given to Spitz for owning up to bullshitting his way into the music business, but if Poseur is any indication, it seems that he’s still buying into his own bullshit.

– Kevin Korber