Synopses & Reviews
Synopsis
Reading my story is like watching The Three Stooges--you probably shouldn't laugh at my bad luck, but you do anyway. It's okay It's funny to me, too. Just after World War II, I was born "free," literally, when my father negotiated a free birth in exchange for naming me after the delivery doctor. From that moment on I'd live on next to nothing and have a blast doing it. I spent my 1950s Minneapolis childhood obsessively teaching myself guitar and writing songs, while dodging my mother's metal spatula and a brother out to get me. In the 1960s my band Skogie and the Flaming Pachucos reached local stardom, and while touring in our Winnebago we crashed it like an accordion into a mountain in the Ozarks. I was nearly killed hitchhiking--my main mode of transportation my whole life. After getting some career advice from The Tubes, in the 1970s we put everything we had in our cars and caravanned to Los Angeles. From a garage in suburban Arleta I penned an all-new sound for the band, a rock opera that starred "Freddy the Kat," a punky, nerdy kid who desired city life but was stuck in suburbia. We evolved Skogie into a new band called The Kats. In the 1980s we sold out every major club in L.A., from Madame Wong's to the Whisky a Go Go, the Starwood to the Troubadour. We were offered dozens of record contracts while headlining alongside The Police, The Knack, Flash Cadillac and the Continental Kids, and The Motels. We turned down every single one. The 1980s also saw the end of my first marriage and the beginning and end of my second marriage--to Demi Moore. The 1990s and early 2000s led me to the computer-programming world. Coding and music seemed to go hand in hand, and I found myself rising through the programming ranks quickly. Of course I started an office band as well. I enjoyed taking history classes in my spare time, and in 2014, after I couldn't easily ace my tests, my wife, and the love of my life, Renee, took me to the neurologist. We were given terrible news--that I had developed early-onset Alzheimer's.
This is the story of how I've rocked and rolled through life, almost becoming famous. Of composing nearly 1,000 songs, working with some of the biggest names in the music industry, and how Renee has helped me battle Alzheimer's, so these adventures aren't hidden in my brain forever.
My book is not a typical, chronological biography. My stories move around in time and place. They're woven together with photos, drawings, song lyrics, rock and roll memorabilia, and excerpts from press articles. In one story a reader might experience the time I got trapped under the ice as a child in Minnesota to the time I got arrested in my twenties in Europe after giving Paul McCartney a demo tape. Readers will feel like we're mates sitting in a bar chatting about my life's misadventures--except I'm drinking water, since I've never had a drink of alcohol in my life.
There are people in the world who have the Midas touch. I'm not one of those people. I don't even have a tin-foil touch. To endure, I've had to create three alter egos that readers will get to know through my memoir: "Rick," "Skogie," and "Freddy."
My memoir is an unorthodox, hysterical story of survival--of making it big in music and life, without ever making a dime. Of getting diagnosed with one of the most frightening diseases known to man. Of how treating my memory loss through writing, music, diet, exercise, and natural supplements, and my wife Renee's tireless research and love, I was able to hold on to these memories as long as I can to share them with you.
Synopsis
Frederick Moore rocked and rolled his way through life as "Rick," "Skogie," and "Freddy," almost becoming famous. He spent his 1950s Minneapolis childhood obsessively teaching himself guitar and writing songs while dodging his mother's metal spatula and a brother out to get him.
In the 1960s his bands Skogie and the Flaming Pachucos reached local stardom. After, they put everything they had into their cars and caravanned to Los Angeles. From a garage in suburban Arleta, they evolved Skogie into a new band called The Kats. In the 1980s, The Kats sold out every major club in Los Angeles--from Madame Wong's to the Whisky a Go Go, the Starwood to the Troubadour.
The Kats were offered dozens of record contracts while headlining alongside The Police, The Knack, Flash Cadillac and the Continental Kids, and The Motels. They turned down every single one. The 1990s and early 2000s led Moore to the computer-programming world. Coding and music seemed to go hand in hand for him, and he found himself rising through the programming ranks quickly until developing early-onset Alzheimer's.
It's Not a Rumour is an unorthodox, hysterical story of survival, and of making it big in music and life without ever making a dime. It's also about getting diagnosed with one of the most frightening diseases known to man, treating memory loss through writing, music, diet, exercise, natural supplements, and Moore's wife, Renee, with her tireless love and research needed to hold on to these memories as long as he could to share them with the world.