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There are 2 sides to Alex James autobiography, a bit of a blur. You have the vacuous party going name dropper that sees the tag infidelity as an epithet that should be worn like a gawdy large 18 badge, and then there is the post epiphany Alex James that talks more about Airplanes than Champagnes. For the purposes of the book, the former is very interesting, if not a little tiresome, the latter, you are glad to see and it’s the light at the end of the tunnel.

Alex James up to the meeting of his now wife isn’t really likeable, the heart is there, and he may have been ace to drink with at the groucho, his bed fellows were Keith Allen, who you will recall is an odious toad of a man, and Damien Hurst, the emperors new clothes of the art world. So a large part of the book is spent regaling us with his tales  of his crazy times at the Groucho with these 2 fuckwits.

After all that though you see the Alex James that settles into marriage and fatherhood and farming, and it’s a nicer Alex James for it, one that is likeable, because he may think the younger Alex James is likeable, but he isn’t, he is an arsehole.

It is a well written and enjoyable read though and I would certainly recommend it.

He does come out with a beautiful line, when talking about Justine, the girl that stuck with him through so much and was the loser in his fidelity war, he said she had a murdered heart.

Before I was all cool and stuff I liked Frankie Goes To Hollywood, they were the bestest band in the world and my bedroom, perhaps worryingly for my parents were covered in posters of the band, then of course I heard the Ramones and that changed everything, but for the time between the release of Relax and the release of the second LP, Liverpool, Frankie were the best band in the world and the first band that I obsessed about.

Holly Johnson wrote Bone in my flute around 93 as a reaction to being diagnosed HIV and the need to get his story out before the mercenarious friends and ex friends got their tilted view out to the highest bidder in the tabloids.

What Bone in my flute delivers is the story of a young gay man coming to terms with his sexuality in working class Liverpool, the lifestyle that Holly lead and how he became what he was. It tells the story of his days in Big In Japan through to the rise and fall of FGTH, the litigation and the nastiness he and his partner Wolfgang received from his other bandmates.

The book really made me like Holly even more than I did before, he holds his head high and proud and I come away with a dislike for Trevor Horn and his wife and Paul Morley and disappointment in Mssrs Rutherford, Nash, O’Toole and Gill. I understand this story is a one sided story, but I feel the musician side of Frankie Goes To Hollywood would struggle writing their own names, let alone writing their memoirs.

All in all an excellent read, relly enjoyable from a former fans perspective and well worth the purchase from Amazon.

Its only rock n roll but I like it. Just finished reading Ronnie Wood’s Autobiography, Ronnie. A very enjoyable read it was too, written well, from the perspective of a man that is just trying to get stuff out whilst he remembers it so in parts it may jump chronologically, but it doesn’t have a detrimental effect on the story.

I have concerns with autobiography’s that the writer, particularly if they still have a career may want to hold details back. I mean really, Tom Cruise isn’t going to tell EVERYTHING just yet is he. But Ronnie appears to give us everything, the highs, literally and the lows, from drug and alcohol consumption of his friends and colleagues to the deaths of close friends. He tells about his time in the faces and of course his time in the stones. His relationship with Keith and Rod are particularly interesting, although Rods mentions are few and far between.

So this is really how to do it, an immensely enjoyable book that lifts the lid ever so slightly on the Rolling Stones carnival and it makes me eager to read Keith Richards book. Superb.

Next is Holly Johnson’s Bone in my flute.

This weekend I also completed Horace Panters biography chronicaling his time in The Specials, Ska’d for life.

My brother and sister liked The Specials, it was always the big kids that liked them, I was certainly aware of them and as I have got older I have an appreciation for them if not a knowledge, I know the hits and a few key members, nothing more really.

The book was really insightful regarding the beginnings of the band and their progression from Coventry clubs, to supporting The Clash, to number ones and finally their demise.

Horace wrote it in such a way that it was not only entertaining but you knew it was from the pen of someone that lived it and not a ghost writer.

He presents facts from his own perspective obviously, but also dealt in a matter of fact way, he hints at the rock n roll lifestyle but its more about the story than anything else.

Really good background to the recording process as well and as has been the case of late, as a result of reading the book I ordered, received and played the debut, The Specials, the follow up, More Specials and the sound of a band fizzling out, In the studio. Difficult to believe that a band so utterly celebrated and influential only released 2 official albums. Crazy.

I ordered Bone in my flute by Holly Johnson, Alex James’ book and Ronnie Woods Autobiography this weekend and they are next.

I finished Pearl Lowes book, All that glitters, this morning, she of Powder/Lodger fame and rock n roll spouse to Danny Goffey of Supergrass.

I bought the book not through a liking of her, I don’t like her, I thought in the nineties she was nothing more than a manufactured indie star, borderline groupie with drug hoover tendencies, and the only thing that has altered as a result of reading her book is that I now see her as a manufactured indie star, borderline groupie, appalling mother with drug hoover tendencies.

The content first, she took lots of drugs, heroin, cocaine as well as the “milder” drugs, acid and ecstacy, she relapsed many times but felt the need to tell us each time, I knew it was time to kick the habit for good. She didn’t. I daresay now 2 years later she is back on them as she is a selfish woman that clearly didn’t think about anyone around her, from childhood to now. What she avoids in the book is the naming of names, if you are going to skirt round things, don’t put it in, leave it out, unless you are going to supply details, why bother highlighting it. So I know some male raped her, I am also aware that someone in an indie band, bigger than them, that they were supporting in 94 or 95 first introduced her to heroin. My money is on one of menswear. She doesn’t tell us this though, what she does tell us is that Danny dabbled with the drugs, including heroin, and for all we know, possibly still does. She goes on to state that all of her circle of friends took drugs and in another breath tells us of her circle of friends Jarvis and Steve from Pulp, Rhys Iifans, its very name droppy, but it looks only to be name droppy for the sake of being name droppy. I don’t know, these probably never took drugs but it accounts I guess for Russell Senior leaving the band and the bloated final Pulp Album. As for Rhys IIfans, are these people incestuous, Iifans is seeing Sienna Miller, both of whom are friends with Pearl Lowe, Sienna Miller and former partner Jude Law, a lot closer than most if the press is to believed. Anyhow, the end of the book just made me dislike Lowe even more, she should have had those children took off her, her friends and circle of showbiz freaks that hung off her should have intervened, its tantamount to child abuse.

As for how the book was written, flimsy, and double spacing lines to fill more pages didn’t work, badly written and a disappointment.

I have been re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows over the past week or two and should finish it next week. I re-read the Harry Potter books for fun, probably at least once a year. The last book I whizzed through, essentially to avoid spoilers, the only problem with that is that I recalled very little to do with the book, big battle scene at the end and they camped a lot, and by camped I mean

Not

So I am re-reading it and enjoying it a second time as much as the first.

I have been reading Russell Brands Booky-wook over the past week or two, very nearly finished it and on the whole it’s been a good read.I like Old Russ, not only do I think he is funny, but he comes across as being very amiable, that might be an image that he cultivates for the cameras and indeed it may be the secret of his success, but I very much doubt it, it seems natural.Anyway, the book, or the erm, booky-wook. To be fair if his tale was transposed to Kerry Katona or perhaps one of the members of Hearsay, it wouldnt, I suggest be full of half of the stuff that was in it or for that matter, told with the same sense of “oh well, this shit tends to find me, I honestly don’t go looking for it”, but he does, well its half and half. The book really delves into his drugs and prostitutes past and the things that he might be embarrassed about aren’t left out. If ever a tabloid wanted to do an expose, they can’t, Brand has already done it.

Radiohead are getting a bit of flack for the pricing of their tickets.

http://www.nme.com/news/radiohead/33383

I recently paid 60 odd quid for a Neil Diamond ticket, at least with Neil you know you are going to get Cracklin Rosie, but radiohead are going to give you 2 hours of tuneless dirge interspersed with the occasional beep. Is it worth it? Clearly looking at ticket sales people think it is, you can always take a book I expect.

Thom Yorke, he looks more like Clay Aiken every day.

This morning I have learned that Kidderminster Market Tavern is now a vets. I used to go to a lot of gigs there in the late 80’s early 90’s, notably the gig that Carter TUSM refer to as their worst ever, their drum machine broke. I also saw the family cat there a number of times, nothing but happy thoughts about that place.
I used to go with a few friends that I have now lost touch with and this pains me as there was a lot of happy times with them, perhaps they are on facebook, and perhaps I could remember their surnames.

Thats another festival out of the way, bit different this one, difficult to explain how it was different, but essentially camping was at a proper campsite around a half a mile away. The campsite itself was lovely, Golden Valley near Ripley, certainly would recommend it to people who like camping, very friendly and good facilities, set in beautiful surroundings. The actual festival site was reached via a long narrow country lane which led to the midlands railway centre, hold on I hear you exclaim, a music festival at a railway centre??? Yes and they had steam locomotives that you could go on as part of your entrance fee.
So then, the festival, well I saw a few bands, singers etc and I will be brief here, The felt tips, drummerless sarah records type indie, Pete Green, pretty good and he did an acoustic version of blitzkrieg bop, The Hermit crabs, very much like camera obscura, the loves, the first good band of the day, excellent, bearsuit, nestled between the happy mondays and badly drawn boy as one of the worst bands I have ever seen, friends of the bride, pretty good stuff, the school, similar to heavenly, pretty good, persil, shouty nonsense but again ok, elctric pop group, appallingly bad, darren hayman, always a pleasure never a chore.
The festival, I would have loved this twenty years ago, and I daresay the same people would have been in attendance twenty years ago. It was full of indie snobs that still hanker after a field mice reformation and are stuck in 1987. The audience and the band that were in attendance for bearsuit made me actually leave the venue prior to the orchids coming on. Really really do not want to go back to this, and instead of getting people that are trying their best to impersonate ballboy (the felt tips), camera obscura (the hermit crabs) and belle and sebastian (practically everyone) book the originals.