I have apparently hit a slump in the Discworld. The satire has become on the most obvious of topics. They built this city on music with rocks in it, everyone. The largest downside to this topic are the references. I grew up listening to music from bygone days for my age group, but this novel stretched my knowledge of rock history. It was distracting.
The disasters of fame and fortune are the meat of the satire, but I couldn't get passed trying to figure out which rock stars were being used for cultural reference. This is entirely a personal problem and may not bother many other readers. I just have to put the imagery together in my mind. If you don't have to waste your brain on connecting fiction with fact, then this could be a very entertaining book for you.