In an Internet-dominated age of Gawkers, Jossips, and no less than 100,000 other pop-culture blogs, a man like Chuck Klosterman should be counting his lucky stars. The writer has carved a clever niche in the journalistic arena by applying sociological savvy and marijuana-fueled musings to things like Saved by the Bell, John Cusack movies, and 1980s hair-metal. At the end of the day, though, what really separates Klosterman from his hyper-blogging peers? Is it his unfettered access to Bono, Britney Spears, and other celebs? His self-referential writing style? His honesty? The jury is still out on Klosterman, and recent release Chuck Klosterman IV fails to deliver any real verdict.

Before moving forward, let me be clear: I'm a big Klosterman fan. He's the reason I interned at SPIN, the reason I decided to professionally pursue music journalism, and—last but not least—the reason I'm unafraid to enjoy such hairsprayed rock bands as Warrant and Bon Jovi. Klosterman has written four books, all of which I’ve devoured within days of publication. The man’s success gives me hope, as I now realize the possibility of earning a living by writing vaguely egotistical tomes about VH-1 Classic. Self-absorbed couch potatoes everywhere should be thankful.

It's just...Klosterman’s been repeating himself for years, and he should know better. Chuck Klosterman IV is largely comprised of the writer's collected articles from SPIN, Esquire, and The Believer. It's an odds-and-ends compilation that mainly appeals to Klosterman’s fanbase, and--well--most of us have read this stuff already. We've also read 2003's Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs, which serves as a model for most of this book’s pop-culture pieces, and last year's Killing Yourself to Live, which disguises Klosterman's real goal (to talk about himself, his drug habit, and his female relationships) with an all-but-abandoned storyline (Klosterman takes a cross-country road trip to visit the death sites of infamous rock ’n’ roll stars). So while it’s nice to have a tidy collection of Klosterman’s magazine musings, we’ve been here before. We’ve done this already. Do we really need to do it again?

To the author’s credit, Klosterman does realize some of these potential pitfalls. Kloster-fans can access many of this book’s articles via the internet, so a brief novella is also crammed into IV’s 350+ pages. You Tell Me abruptly ends with no clear moral in sight, but it’s still a good little story. Perhaps a very good little story. However, the narrator is a drug-loving journalist (like Klosterman) who deals with problems pertaining to vehicles and females (like Klosterman, circa Killing Yourself to Live) while working as a movie critic in Akron, Ohio (like Klosterman, circa 1999). As such, this is still nothing new. Chuck is still writing about Chuck, even if Chuck has changed his name to “Jack” for novella purposes.

Argh.

Klosterman also takes a DVD approach to IV, augmenting the main attraction with such “special features” as supplementary footnotes and new introductions. The footnotes are largely unnecessary, particularly when their length supersedes those of the articles they supplement. The introductions are terse and clever, though, often shedding some light on their author’s behind-the-scenes experiences. Klosterman’s world is one of backstage passes and exclusive interviews, so who wouldn’t want to hear the details that were unfit to print?

In “Southern-Fried Sex Kitten,” for example, he prefaces an interview with Britney Spears by waxing academic on the popstar’s self-realization issues: 

After I spent my time with Spears, people kept asking me, “What is she really like?” My answer was usually, “I don’t know, and I don’t think she does, either.” And that’s not sarcasm; I honestly believe Britney Spears was so insulated from the public (and so exhaustively governed by the people trying to control her image) that she became unable to differentiate between (a) the person who was famous and (b) the person she actually was . . . I don’t think she has any idea what’s really happening to her.  That said, I did notice that her Southern accent always seemed to mysteriously disappear whenever she became annoyed with my questions. Maybe she’s the blond Machiavelli.

Chuck Klosterman IV is an enjoyable book because its content is well-written, easily digestible, and often humorous. As the fourth installment of the Kloster-catalogue, though, it’s little more than a retread (arguably a flat-out repetition) of well-covered ground. And as a self-conscious reference to Led Zeppelin’s fourth album (complete with Zoso-like symbols on the back cover), it’s downright misguided. Chuck Klosterman may be one of today’s richest academic supporters of KISS, but it’s going to take a much better book before he’s able to climb the stairway to heaven.

A Roundup: What Other Reviewers Are Saying

Chuck Klosterman IV: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas by Chuck Klosterman compiled by Andrew Leahey.

“Other than a sympathetic profile of Billy Joel, Klosterman rarely strays from his favorite topics: heavy metal music, television, sports and sex.” Publisher’s Weekly says of Klosterman IV.  Detroit’s Metro Times said, “This isn't heavy reading, but Klosterman finds hidden angles with his subjects and almost exploits them. You can tell he's smart, and has an enthusiasm for what he writes, which is refreshing in the hipper-than-thou milieu in which he operates.” Booklist chimes in, “Klosterman’s writing is funny and smart, if not so new or earth shattering, and that, after all, is pop culture.” According to The New York Times, “The profiles share a weird tic, a ‘weird’ tic. While Bono exhibits some ‘amazingly weird’ behavior during his time with Klosterman, Kilmer is ‘weird in ways that are expected, and he’s weird in ways that are not.’ Radiohead’s Thom Yorke may have his quirks, but ‘you’ve met weirder.’ Perhaps, for example, Britney Spears, whom Klosterman says is ‘the most famous person I’ve ever interviewed . . . also the weirdest. I assume this is not a coincidence.’ We are made to understand that fame is weird—an intoxicant in itself, perhaps—by a famous writer who may or may not be able to handle his drugs.” And finally, The Austin Chronicle offers this gem: “Chuck Klosterman is like the Lawrence Welk of pop culture.”