A testimony to love and durability

Bill Sassenberger’s recent roadtrip to promote his excellent ‘Toxic Shock Records: Assassin of Mediocrity’ book, alongside his long-term friend and fellow author, Sluggo Cawley, who was talking about and signing copies of his superb ‘Guitargonaut’ book, went very well. Plenty of their books found new owners, especially at the events with Raunch and Wax Trax, so thanks to everyone who came out to meet them.

Bill’s return home has coincided with a great new review of his book by Thoughts Words Action, who say that:

Bill Sassenberger’s Toxic Shock Records, Assassin of Mediocrity is more than just a memoir of a record shop, a record label, or a business venture, but a chronicle of a lifelong defiance, a testimony to love and durability, and a map of a world where music was more than entertainment: it was survival, was resistance, and the pulse of community. From the first page, you know Sassenberger is not interested in mythologizing himself. He tells it straight, eloquent without ornament, wise without pretension. This is the story of Toxic Shock Records, a record store, label, mail-order operation, and most importantly, a sanctuary for the dispossessed. Founded in Pomona, carried to New Orleans, and finally rooted in Tucson for decades, Toxic Shock was a living organism, feeding those hungry for punk rock and all its outsider offshoots. It was a cultural weapon, an “assassin of mediocrity,” wielded against the bland, the corporate, the soulless machinery of the mainstream. The beauty of this book lies in how Bill merges personal and cultural history. He writes about punk not as an abstract movement but as a daily struggle, ordering records, stocking shelves, paying rent, arguing with distributors, nurturing bands, stapling flyers, watching scenes bloom and collapse. In his prose, punk is lived experience, fragile and fierce, and always necessary.

And there is Julianna, his life companion. Every page is haunted and illuminated by her presence. Bill does not romanticise tragedy, but he does honor love. Their partnership, forged in passion and endurance, runs parallel to the story of Toxic Shock itself. When Julianna suffered a devastating stroke in 2011, it was more than a personal catastrophe; it marked the beginning of the end of the store. Yet in Sassenberger’s telling, even this painful chapter shines with dignity, as he shows gratitude for the ride, the wild years, the community built, the records spun, the countless lives touched. The book also succeeds because it is simultaneously a memory and a document. Sassenberger includes photographs, flyers, gig posters, and fragments of ephemera that remind us how punk was always as much about paper as it was about vinyl: Xeroxed fanzines, hand-drawn art, mailing lists scrawled by hand. The visuals give the narrative texture, anchoring the reader in a time when DIY was not a brand but a necessity. Toxic Shock never pretended to be neutral, it was built on a deliberate refusal to sell major-label product, a conscious rejection of compromise. It was a survival strategy for the underground. In choosing the road less traveled, Bill and Julianna carved out a culture where bands like Ill Repute, Doggy Style, House of Wheels, and countless others could exist, breathe, and matter. Reading this book, you feel the sweat and stubbornness that made those records possible.

At the same time, the writing carries a warmth that undercuts any sense of cynicism. Sassenberger praises as much as he critiques, and he never loses sight of the joy that sustained those years. There are triumphs in packed shows, successful releases, moments when the register rang steady and the music never stopped. There are also heartbreaks in failed ventures, financial struggles, the cruel realities of illness and loss. But through it all, there is an unflinching clarity, because punk rock gave meaning to their lives. It’s worth emphasising the significance of this book within the broader literature of punk history. Too many accounts focus on the bands, the icons, the aesthetics. Few dive into the infrastructure, the record stores, the labels, the stubborn little enterprises that kept the culture alive when no one else would. Toxic Shock was one of those crucial nodes. Without shops like it, countless punk rock fans would never have discovered the records that shaped them. Without labels like Toxic Shock, entire bands would have vanished into obscurity. This book ensures their survival, even in memory. Sassenberger also understands that punk is always fragile, always vulnerable to commodification, yet always capable of regenerating. The book is not nostalgic in the cheap sense. It does not pretend that the past was perfect. Instead, it captures the messy truth: punk was difficult, exhausting, and sometimes heartbreaking, but it mattered because it was real.

Perhaps the most powerful quality of Assassin of Mediocrity is its refusal to compromise, even in its storytelling. He simply tells the story with honesty, intelligence, and respect for the reader. In doing so, he mirrors the very ethic that made Toxic Shock what it was. By the final page, you realize this is not just a book about a record shop. It is about choosing a life outside the conveyor belt of mediocrity, about building something stubbornly human in a world that prefers the disposable. It is about two people who dared to live by punk values, not as a teenage phase, but as a lifelong commitment. Toxic Shock Records, Assassin of Mediocrity is required reading for anyone who believes in the underground, independence, love forged through music, and struggle. It’s a love letter to a store, a city, a community, and above all, to Julianna. Punk has always been about more than music. This book proves it.

Head to Earth Island Books for more information about ordering.

https://thoughtswordsaction.com/2025/09/05/toxic-shock-records-assassin-of-mediocrity-by-bill-sassenberger/