Chuck Klosterman

Rock criticism has never mattered less, probably because it has never really evolved beyond the canon of its best, exhausted practitioners—Christgau, Marcus, and Meltzer. Whereas those old duffers should have grown up a long time ago, into broader social, political, even pop-cultural criticism—hell, how about a novel, guys?—they keep churning out increasingly remote ruminations and mostly just come off like cranks who have spent too much time in smoky bars with loud music and loose women and oversized mirrors. Which brings us to Klosterman, who deserves the attention he’s gotten for writing pop criticism that’s actually fun to read. His last book, just out in paperback, is Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. It’s a wild romp from Pam Anderson’s sex tapes to the decline of American newspapers, and shows just how free-wheeling and funny the male mind can be. Mary Lucia loves this guy, and so do we. (651) 699-0587; www.ruminator.com