I had the honour of copyediting this. Andrew is one of the most singular non-fiction voices around. Writes and thinks like no-one else.
Just read this in a single sitting and I think I need a bit of thinking time now. Raw and stark and baffled by the hollow, tinny strangeness of it all. Basically, another unflinching study of male desperation to put alongside his other books. Really bastard good. As always. Bloody hell.