Under the bridge and back

This one goes out to the Jenna Jamesons, Tommy Lees and Anthony Kiedises of the world. You write insipid New York Times bestsellers about your drug addictions, your sordid sexual escapades and your Hepatis C infections.

The latest entry into this parade of drug-addled memoirs is from Anthony Kiedis, the frontman of The Red Hot Chili Peppers. You know those post-weekend conversations that always start with "I was sooo wasted?” In Scar Tissue, this admission goes on for 465 pages. The constant rebounding in Kiedis' story from crack to X to China White is as tiring as it sounds. And I'm an RHCP fan.

The writing itself in Scar Tissue never really sparkles, even with the aid of Kiedis' co-author, rock historian Larry Sloman. Hardly any of the other people mentioned in the book seem fleshed out. I don't ever learn anything substantial about his fellow band members—except that Dave Navarro is as big a druggie as Kiedis. Who knew?

An endless series of women parade through the book's pages and although Kiedis seems appreciative of each of them—enough to give each of them a shout-out in his book—none of them, including his mother, have much of a face. A fiery latecomer named Yohanna is an exception but by then it’s too little, too late.

In fact, the only person that receives an introspective glance is Kiedis’ father Blackie, drug dealer to the stars and the man who introduced his future junkie of a son to drugs by blowing marijuana smoke into his face at the tender age of five.

There are some tidbits worth remembering in Scar Tissue. Kiedis as an adolescent sleeps with Cher; one of RHCP's founding members Hillel Slovak dies of a heroin overdose; Kiedis meets the Dalai Lama; and his cast of girlfriends includes actress Ione Skye, "singer" Sinead O'Connor and director Sofia Coppola.

At the beginning and end of the memoir, Kiedis writes about the new injection in his life—ozone—that he now takes in place of the old heroin to help suppress his dormant Hepatitis C. (Dude, he's depleting the ozone layer.) And thus, sober for nearly four years now, Kiedis' junkie's tale ends on a happily-ever-after-until-the-next-fix note. Although, I'm still not convinced.