CONTEST: I have two copies of Everyone Loves You When You’re Dead to give away. To enter, leave a comment with the name of your favorite rock writer or favorite profile of an artist, and let us know why. I’ll draw two names at random on July 8.

Before reading Everyone Loves You When You’re Dead, my previous experience with Neil Strauss was limited. I knew that he had written for several publications, and that he had written books about Motley Crue, Jenna Jameson and pickup artists. His work for the former didn’t catch my eye in such a way that made me seek out his work the way I do that of folks like Greil Marcus or Ben Ratliff. And his work on the latter probably steered me the other direction. Strauss had cast his lot with those on the sleaze end of the spectrum, so I didn’t look to him for serious journalism.

The litany of names on the cover of his book made me curious enough to ask  the folks at !t Books for a review copy. When you’re promised interviews with R.E.M., Radiohead, Loretta Lynn, Johnny Cash, etc., it’s clear you’ll probably find something of interest. What I did not expect to do was read this cover to cover, nor did I expect to take away true insights. I did both, and in doing so, quickly realized that this is the best book about music I have read in years.

Why? Well, as Strauss tells it, it is because he did this right, which means that before he had done it wrong. As he writes in the introduction, once the interview is done, the writer is pressed by deadlines, the stylistic constraints of the publication and the whims of the editors. The real person gets lost.

He went back to the 3,000 interviews he has conducted and “searched for the truth or essence behind each person, story or experience. Often it came from something I had previously ignored: An uncomfortable silent, a small misunderstanding or a scattered thought that had been compressed into a soundbite.”

That might sound strange; isn’t that what profile writers try to do the first time around? Yes, that’s the idea every writer subscribes to, but it doesn’t happen very often. As you’ll find while reading this book, these are the snippets that get left behind when the narrative is crafted, the rough edges. For the most part, these feel like the rare moments when these artists were real. An interview is a dance, with the subjects working hard to put forth the version of themselves they want people to see, and the writers working hard to penetrate that shell.

The fascinating thing is to see Strauss, who I associate with caddish behavior if for no other reason than the company he keeps, being a sympathetic ear. If these transcriptions are truly accurate, then he is among the most gifted interviewers I’ve read, able to show true empathy and understanding. His genuine interest and positively gentle approach (or so I assume; it’s hard to fully glean that from words on the page) cause these artists to let down their defenses are share genuine thoughts and feelings.

As if that wasn’t enough, Strauss also won me over with the book’s format. It seemed too clever by half at first blush, interview snippets broken up throughout the book, ostensibly grouped in thematic bunches. But it works. You’ll get two pages of an interview with Robert Plant and Jimmy Page where they discuss the co-opting of their sound by artists like Lenny Kravitz, followed immediately by two pages of Kravitz expressing disbelief that anyone could hear Led Zeppelin in his music. All of the material from one interview may be spread over half a dozen snippets peppered throughout this 500-page tome, but as you pick up the rhythm of Strauss’ organization, you’ll find yourself surfing through this effortlessly, marveling at the connections being made from one artist to the next.

Even the index is entertaining, as Strauss eschews the typical listing of famous names to instead include entries for “Best car wash in L.A.” and “Guys who say they are never going to date models or actresses but then end up engaged to one.”

At the outset I said I didn’t seek out Strauss’ work the way I did my favorite writers and critics. With Everyone Loves You When You’re Dead, Strauss has vaulted to the top of that list. The interesting thing will be, now that he knows the right way to do things, will his profiles reflect it?

The release of Ray Davies’ first solo album, 2005′s Other People’s Lives, was a big deal, for it was the first time the Kinks leader had released something under his own name. That was then, this is now: Brits could get a good-to-great new Davies solo album free with purchase of the Sunday Times. “Here he is, 50 years after he first picked up a guitar, surfing the cover-mount zeitgeist and seemingly quite comfortable in the uncharted commercial waters in which he has set sail.” That from an interview with Davies that ran in Sunday’s paper.

The “cover-mount zeitgeist” is a particularly British phenomenon, as anyone who regularly reads Q, Uncut or Mojo can attest, each with its monthly CD gummy-stuck to the cover. The specific zeitgeist that Davies is surfing was pioneered by Prince, who issued his Planet Earth disc earlier this year as a cover mount in The Mail.

Sunday Times readers got a little gem this week, as the disc offers a solid dozen Davies songs that are more immediate — and thus less challenging — than those found on Other People’s Lives. That means, of course, that fans will probably sink comfortably into this Daviesian narratives, but might stick it on the shelf with Preservation Act 2 while pulling out more compelling work like Village Green or Other People’s Lives. eMusic users can get in on the fun as well, as V2 has posted the disc for download there. The free CD apparently had 10 tracks; a CD is expected Oct. 29 with those 10 and two bonus tracks, making up what I assume are the 12 tracks found on eMusic..

It’s not Davies’ best music, but it’s certainly among the best discs issued by anyone still in the game after 40 years (Neil Young’s new one may join it… I’ll find out soon). While the music industry debates recent moves by Radiohead and Nine Inch Nails to bypass traditional labels, Davies has quietly stuck with a label (he’s still on V2) and put his music in front of 1.5 million people in one day. Not bad for an old Kink.