There’s actually a twist on the very title In Defense of Ska as explained in the book itself, but I won’t ruin the fun here. That is to say, this is a dense and multi-faceted book. Often, biographies and music books are described as “breezy reads.” This book is not, to its credit.

Rather, author Aaron Carnes puts together about two dozen chapters, each which are exhaustingly researched about the minutiae of American ska and ska punk. Yet, the book is not a linear history of American ska. Rather, it’s a series of mostly self-contained chapters that look at how the genre and its scene shaped the lives of individuals and small groups of friends. Carnes, who has ska bonafides himself, having played in Gilroy ska-punkers Flat Planet and roadied for Skankin’ Pickle, researched the stories of lesser known and unknown ska bands to the point where he almost seems obsessed. It pays off. What we get isn’t some “this is why ska is important as a whole”... wisely. Instead, through relentless enthusiasm and dogged research, we see HOW ska directly influenced the lives of people who mostly never became famous- usually for the better, but sometimes for the worse.

Carnes does focus on some of the more famous groups. Operation Ivy and Reel Big Fish each get their own chapter, as they should. But also, bands that have a ska aspect also get examined. The story behind Propagandhi’s “Ska sucks” is told from the perspective of the people that the song pissed off, including Whole Lotta Milka, who responded to the track. Here, we see ska not as an overarching wave that affected a generation, but how the ripples affected people on the ground level. And thankfully, Carnes doesn’t argue that ska is the driving force behind each of the lives of his subjects. Instead, he shows how it affected them in the midst of all of life’s other driving forces.

The other main value is that there are hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of ska facts here. If you want to know the answers to ska questions that no one ever asked before, here they are, no matter how small. Want to know the connection between Led Zeppelin and two tone? It’s here. How about how the son of a famous comedian and notable alt-punker is actually a big ska head? That’s here. How about the obscure Blue Ribbon band- perhaps the US’s first ska band from the early ‘70s. That tale is here.

So, from a psychology standpoint, we get a taste of how the genre affected the youth of the 80s and 90s. Carnes never waivers by stepping down from his position that ska is as worthy as any other genre- indie, metal, etc. You could argue that he’s TOO defensive, refusing to acknowledge that the ska scene as a whole had its flaws (other genres do, too). You could argue that Carnes’ “defense” is really just a paean of ska orated to the already converted while he shyly flips off the haters and that this stance really does reveal a sort of insecurity. But, maybe that’s okay. It doesn’t invalidate the book. Rather, in these aspects, Carnes comes off almost like a Crusader, powered by divine belief instead of logic. This in of itself may be a defense. That is, if ska is so strong that it has weaponized Carnes into a soldier for the cause, maybe there IS more to the genre that mainstream culture and cool indie writers care to admit. That’s especially true considering the fact that the author is clearly ready to die on a quest to pick it up.