Similar to all-encompassing chronicle books on the Kinks (All Day and All of the Night, which I've reviewed previously) and Beatles (The Complete Beatles Chronicle 1962-1970, a book which I've owned for years and intend to review in the future), author Glenn Povey has spent years researching and writing a comprehensive day-by-day diary of Pink Floyd's career. Spanning the births of the band members through the band's official 1965 founding all the way up to 2006 (when it was published), Echoes documents every concert, recording session, single and album release, television, radio, and promotional appearance made by the band over their long and successful career.
The book is laid out in similar fashion to the aforementioned Kinks and Beatles books, moving chronologically forward year by year with entries for each appearance by date. Split into distinct eras of Pink Floyd's career, the beginning of each chapter consists of long and detailed write-ups describing the band's activities during that time period, accompanied by numerous photographs or the band and various bits of memorabilia. Following the chapter introductions, the entries themselves contain as much information as Povey was able to uncover in his research, and the amount that is included is rather impressive. Beyond set lists for the concerts, rehearsal times, track lists, and broadcast dates for the TV and radio appearances are included, as well as track and session notes for Pink Floyd's recording sessions. These entries include, when applicable, contemporary reviews from prominent newspapers/magazines/periodicals of the times, shedding an interesting light on how Floyd's music, both on record and in concert, was initially perceived. It can make for some fascinating reading, especially when reviews back then contrast so sharply with retrospective analysis (in particular, I'm recalling the scathing 1975 review for the Wish You Were Here album which was included in the book, especially when it's compared to modern views of the record). Also, it's interesting to see that certain obscure songs were actually played onstage, including some you'd never even consider, such as "Alan's Psychedelic Breakfast" at the tail end of 1970! The book does a good job showing just how relentlessly punishing and grueling Pink Floyd's concert itinerary was up until the end of 1973, as well as how little they actually toured from 1974 onward. The book's timeline ends with the final ever Pink Floyd concert, their 2005 reunion for Live 8, and the death of founding member Syd Barrett in 2006. Short diaries of the solo careers of all five Pink Floyd members follow, and the book concludes with a comprehensive discography.
There's not too much more that can be said about a book like Echoes...these type of day-by-day chronicle books can either be done extremely well or they can come off as shoddy, poorly researched jobs. Echoes continues in the tradition of the Kinks and Beatles books mentioned earlier as one of the very best. The amount of research the author put into the book is staggering, especially considering what he was able to dig up for the band's early years when they had a loosely held together, constantly rotating membership and changed their name as frequently as their socks, playing various small student gatherings and underground gigs before solidifying into Pink Floyd in 1965. Echoes is readable from front to back, but it's also quite useful as a reference book; just pick a years or event of interest, flip to that section, and the information is right there at your fingertips. Echoes is a valuable and informative tome that is essential for any Pink Floyd fan, especially its value as a comprehensive reference for collectors of the band's live and promotional work. A few minor typos aside, this book is as good a day-by-day chronicle of Pink Floyd's history as there ever will be and is worthy of being on any Pink Floyd fan's bookshelf.
The 2010s are a remarkable decade as every year seems to be a 50th anniversary for something or other that happened in that most epochal of decades (at least in terms of music and cultural change), the 1960s. Since 1965 is often considered the year that pop music truly transitioned to "rock," it only makes sense that there would be a book dedicated to the groundbreaking album released by the biggest band of them all at the tail end of that year. In this new book (with a rather unwieldy title), author John Kruth aims to delve into the Beatles' first masterpiece in terms of both songwriting and production, placing it in the context of its time as well as detailing the aftereffects of its impact to the present day.
***special thanks to Wes at Backbeat Books for sending a copy of the book to review!***
Upon starting the book and noticing that it was two hundred pages, I was a bit skeptical as to how the author was going to fill it all up talking about a single album and its two associated non-album singles ("Day Tripper" and "We Can Work it Out") that clock in at less than an hour total. The first couple of chapters were of a personal nature, with the author describing his childhood and how he got into the Beatles, as well as what was happening in the 1960s around him. However, it didn't really make a lot of sense as he was describing 1960s America which was across the pond from London where the Beatles were living and working. This US/UK dichotomy ended up being one of the most confusing and frustrating things about the book...the author used both the original UK Parlophone edition of the Beatles albums (which is how the band always intended them) as well as the bastardized Capitol US versions interchangeably. For seasoned Beatles fans such as myself it was an annoyance, but I could see how a more casual fan would be thrown off by this.
In fact, this is but one of the many small annoyances I had with this book that made it a frustrating and unsatisfying read overall. The author's writing style was not to my particular liking, coming off a bit too youthful and somewhat clunky. There were some typos and grammatical errors throughout the book, although I'll chalk those up to editors rather than the author himself. The general layout of the book after the personal introduction consisted of a couple of chapters setting up the recording and release of Rubber Soul, followed by chapters dedicated to each song. It got a bit confusing, however, in that the author included the songs from the American version of the album (arguably the only time a Capitol-altered version of a Beatles album didn't ruin it, and according to many fans, actually improved it) as well as the British version. This means that many songs from the UK Help! album are discussed, which in my opinion doesn't really make sense since those songs were written and recorded six or more months before Rubber Soul (with the exception of "Wait," written and initially recorded during the Help! sessions but not finished or released until Rubber Soul). The end of each chapter then includes a short section called "Rubber Covers" detailing notable cover versions of the particular song discussed. Most chapters include some basic session info for each song as well as the inspiration behind each song, although there was nothing new for obsessive Beatles fans and much of the source material and quoted passages were instantly recognizable as being from various books or the Anthology. There were also a lot of factual inaccuracies throughout, although how many were due to the author's ignorance as opposed to his clunky writing style I can't say. One glaring instance is where he mentions how very shortly after John met Yoko in late 1966, they recorded the infamous Two Virgins album and became a couple, leading to John abandoning his wife Cynthia and son Julian, which actually didn't happen until almost two years later. Now, it's very possible that the author is well aware of this (and he should be...it's incredibly well documented) but the way the passage is written makes it seem as though it happened mere weeks after their initial meeting. There are many sections of the book like this which became increasingly frustrating to read. Whether they were because of Kruth's lack of knowledge or his confusing writing style, either reason is unacceptable and, in my opinion, should've been corrected at the editing stage.
I had more problems with this book that I'd like to bring up, too. First, the background chapters on the 1960s and Beatles influences ended up feeling more like a general history of the decade (and of Bob Dylan in particular). While I get what the author was trying to do here and readily acknowledge the huge influence Dylan had on the Beatles (and John in particular), it began to distract from the point of the book and dragged on far too long. Second, the "Rubber Covers" sections didn't really add anything interesting to the chapters and in many cases became very repetitive as the same tribute albums and/or artists were mentioned over and over. Third, there seemed to be more of a focus on 1964 and 1966 in many of the chapters than on 1965, the year in which Rubber Soul was actually conceived and created. While I can at least see that the trends and experiences of 1964 factored into the creation of the album, 1966 and beyond had nothing to do with it. While the Beatles certainly built off of the achievement of Rubber Soul as they went into 1966 and beyond, the book didn't really need to expound as much on what they did after as it did, at least in my opinion. Finally, Kruth clearly has a lot of admiration for John Lennon, which shone through loud and clear, but while he also credited Paul McCartney for his talents, there were a lot of subtle and snide swipes at McCartney's personality, shortcomings, and his solo career. It got tiresome reading the same tired tripes about how John was the better of the two (as I've said repeatedly, they were BOTH essential) and really, in a book about an album smack dab in the middle of the Beatles' career, why is Paul's solo career being repeatedly brought up and picked at?
While a scholarly, thoroughly detailed look at Rubber Soul and its place in both the 1960s and 20th century history would be a welcome addition to the Beatles literature, This Bird is Flown isn't that book. To me, it felt exactly like I thought it would when I first started reading it: a short book about a single album that was padded with a lot of blandly-written extraneous material in order to justify its length as a book rather than a pamphlet. I will come right out and flatly say that I didn't enjoy this book and I didn't learn a single new thing from it. Perhaps being as fanatical and knowledgeable about the Beatles and their music as I am is the reason I feel this way, and I'll concede that this point may very well color my opinion. But unless one is a very casual or ignorant (in the literal, not pejorative sense of the word) Beatles fan, this book is far from essential.
Released almost simultaneously alongside the official Who 50th anniversary book which I reviewed last month, veteran rock music writer Mat Snow brings us another book celebrating fifty years of one of the world's greatest rock groups. As you can see from my review, I was quite disappointed with the official book and so was interested in seeing whether or not an unauthorized overview of the Who's entire career would fare any better. I'm familiar with Snow's work over the years, including his book set on the Beatles' solo careers which I reviewed a couple of years ago. That set was fun if not lightweight and riddled with errors, so I was slightly wary when diving into his new Who book. While it's not perfect and suffers from many of the same maladies that his solo Beatles book did, I am will say upfront that it's much more enjoyable than the official book.
***special thanks to Steve at Race Point Publishing for sending a copy of the book to review!***
When I first heard that book was titled 50 Years of My Generation, I initially thought it was going to be a celebration of the 50th anniversary of the Who's debut album, also called My Generation and released fifty years ago in December 1965. Moving past the somewhat confusing title and realizing that it's actually a book celebrating the band's entire career, it's laid out in much the same way as the official book: chronologically beginning with the band members' births at the tail end of WWII in London and their youth spent during the post-war austerity years of the 1950s before rock and roll arrived in 1956 and changed everything. From here, the book travels the well-known path of previous Who books, following their career as a struggling covers band before Keith Moon replaced their original drummer in early 1964 and Pete Townshend took creative control over the band's music and message. Snow navigates their career through the heady days of the 1960s, the Who's ascension to legendary status in the 1970s, their limp to the finish line in the early 1980s in the wake of Moon's 1978 death, and the endless run of reunion tours that continues to the present.
Along the way, the chapters include a linear narrative of their career through each era, accompanied by photos of the band, concert tickets, programs, and other related images. While there were several images that were new to me, most have been seen many times over the years although they were reproduced in excellent quality. What was jarring about the entire experience, however, was that many paragraphs and photographs that would have fit better in the previous chapters were inserted out of sequence. As one example, in the middle of the chapter about the recording of Tommy in 1969 there would be a paragraph and accompanying photograph about something that happened in 1968 that was unrelated and should have been in the previous chapter. There were also several typos: many were just honest editing mistakes such as missing letters or slight misspellings, while others were flat out errors (such as discussing the recording of John's bass solo in "My Generation" but calling the song "Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere"). A few of the photographs are miscaptioned as well, most egregiously a shot of Pete onstage in 1980 labelled as being from 1990 (the vast difference in the amount of hair on his head should have tipped the editors off!). These mistakes are minor, but there are enough of them scattered throughout the book that they add up after a while.
Overall, though, this book is enjoyable. I certainly had more fun reading it than I did the official history, although I do want to emphasize that 50 Years of My Generation is still not perfect. In addition to the shortcomings mentioned above, the book generally doesn't contain any new revelations or information that would necessarily appeal to any hardcore fan who is deeply knowledgeable about the band. It really is just an broad overview of the band's entire career, not particularly in depth although far more enjoyable to read than the official book. Much of this is down to Snow's writing style which, while a bit simplistic and clumsy in its construction, definitely conveys the excitement and enthusiasm of a real Who fan as opposed to the more cut-and-paste feel of Ben Marshall's prose in the official book. One thing I certainly noticed was his disdain for the short period of time after Keith died when Kenney Jones was their new drummer. While anyone who knows me knows that I am outright dismissive of any of the post-Moon work the band has done and that I can't stand the music they made with Kenney Jones (apart from one or two songs), Snow came off quite harsh in both his narrative and photo captions. While I certainly agree with his sentiments, I also don't place all of the blame for the downward spiral in the Who's quality once Keith died at Kenney's feet...they were a spent force and Pete saved his best songs for his solo albums. Fairly or not, Kenney became the scapegoat and while I didn't mind Snow's tone, I can see how some fans who like the music from that era of the band's history might take umbrage with the author.
In closing, while this isn't a perfect book, I definitely rank it higher than the official one; some of this is down to the tone and content, and some is because of how truly and utterly disappointing the official book was. While that book had a cleaner, more mature look and feel to it, 50 Years of My Generation is bold, colorful, splashy, and loud...all adjectives that can be used to describe the Who themselves and which convey the excitement and fun of their music and career. If you need to choose between one of the new career retrospective books released for their 50th anniversary, I would recommend this over the official as it's far less frustrating and a lot more fun.
The Rolling Stones are one of the longest-lived rock bands in history, having remained active for over fifty years and counting. In that time, they've played countless concerts all over the world, yet for most fans, their greatest work was during the 1960s. Starting off as a blues and R&B cover band in the clubs and coffee houses of London, the Stones played a grueling and punishing schedule of concerts to minuscule crowds in their early years, building up their following and becoming second only to the Beatles in the 1960s hierarchy of great bands. In You Had to Be There! The Rolling Stones Live 1962-69, author Richard Houghton offers a trip back to those heady years by telling the story of the Stones' 1960s concerts in the words of the fortunate fans who were there to witness them firsthand.
***special thanks to the author for sending me a copy of the book to review!***
Soliciting memories from fans who were at any of the Stones' concerts in the 1960s, Houghton and his contributors tell the story of a ragtag group of five obsessive blues and R&B fans who started the decade playing dingy basement clubs to handfuls of teenagers and ended the decade as the second biggest rock band in the world. When I first heard of this book, I assumed it would be similar to another very good, if not flawed, book I've read and reviewed on the Beatles' UK tours. That book was enjoyable but suffered from being quite repetitive and devoid of charm after a while. However, as this Stones book got closer to being released, I began to think it might be quite different. This was most noticeable to me when my mum sent me a story from my parents' local newspaper in Massachusetts where Houghton was soliciting submissions from fans who had attended the Stones concert there in 1965. When I finally got my hands on the book and saw how the author had put the book together, I was delighted but still slightly hesitant. For each of the shows between 1962 and 1969, the story of the concerts was told entirely in the words of the fans who were there. What made me wary was the fear that the book would get repetitive the way the Beatles book did (that book became a real slog once I was halfway through it).
I'm happy to say that this wasn't the case at all with You Had to Be There...each entry is interesting and engaging and there are many reasons for this. When multiple people shared their memories about the same show, it was fascinating to see how similar or different their perceptions and experiences were. Reading about how the various concertgoers managed to get their tickets, got to the shows, met the Stones, and got home was a wonderful look back to a more innocent time when rock music and the concert business were both young and everyone was flying by the seat of their pants as the world changed around them at a rapid pace. Security was minimal, amplification was inadequate, prices were low by today's standards, and the bands were much more accessible. It was also amazing to read firsthand how quickly and profoundly it all changed...fans who attended a Stones show in 1964 mentioned how when they saw them just a year or two later the experience was different and in many cases, not as enjoyable. By the time the band got to the end of the decade, their tours were huge events and the small club and theater crowds they'd played to in earlier years gave way to faceless seas of humanity in arenas and stadiums. The innocence and simplicity of the earlier 1960s was now marred by restless crowds, police violence, drugs, groupies, cynicism, and money while the band became aloof and untouchable heroes to the masses. These are not new revelations, but somehow hearing it from the perspective of all of those were were there makes it more vivid and sharpens its impact.
Adding to the charm of the book are the many photos accompanying the entries of the contributors, with most pictures being representative of how they and the fashions looked back then. There is also a large section in the middle with fan photos of various concerts and meetings with members of the Stones throughout the 1960s. It's quite something to read about someone in their 60s or 70s looking back on something that happened to them when they were a teenager, especially when they mention how much they've seen the world around them change in the years since. Even better are the instances when fans mention that they went to the concert with their boyfriend or girlfriend who they then married and are still married to. It's really touching to read about couples who went together as teens and are still together fifty years later...some of these entries even have photos of the couples now and then, which is heartwarming and adds a more human touch to their story. Overall, You Had to Be There is a real time capsule that takes the reader back in time to those heady days and tracks the rapid pace of the decades evolution through the eyes of the everyday people who experienced their little bit of rock history. If I have any complaint, it's only that I would have liked to have seen more contributions from fans who attended shows on the 1969 American tour, including Altamont, as the book ends with the Stones' show at Hyde Park in July 1969. Thinking about it, though, I can understand why the author may have stopped here as Hyde Park was the first show the band played in the immediate aftermath of Brian Jones' death and in way, it was the full-stop end of their 1960s incarnation. However, the 1969 tour was their first that was an actual event and the Altamont show is widely seen as what killed the 1960s dream, so those could have been a nice way to bookend the decade for the Rolling Stones. Still, this is a small quibble of mine and as I said, the more I think about it the more I understand why Houghton ended the book at Hyde Park...it was the end of an era and the first chapter in the Stones' career.
In closing, while not offering any new revelations in terms of the inner workings of the Stones or their music, this is still definitely a book that any fan of the band would enjoy. Even those who are more a fan of the 1960s and its music in general and perhaps not dedicated Stones fans would have a good time taking a trip back to those years and reading about the experiences from the lucky fans who were there to live through it firsthand.
In addition to being the most famous rock and roll drummer in the world from the most famous rock and roll band that ever existed, Ringo Starr has been a very talented photographer for most of his adult life. Indeed, since the Beatles all first got their own cameras around 1963/1964, Ringo has had an interest in photography and has taken scores of photos for his personal enjoyment. In 2013, he decided to open up his archives and release a collection through Apple's iBooks as well as an extremely limited edition hardcover book containing his pictures. I read the iBook and thoroughly enjoyed it, although it only contained a portion of what he'd released in the hardbound book. Luckily, this past month saw the release of the hardcover in a mass market edition so that fans of Ringo, the Beatles, and photography can now enjoy all of the pictures he's released.
***special thanks to Rhianna at Genesis Publications for sending a copy of the book to review!***
While Ringo has famously said that he'll never write an autobiography because people are "only interested in eight years of my life (1962-70)," in Photograph he seems quite happy to focus the bulk of his photos on behind-the-scenes Beatles snaps. The book flows in chronological order from his birth in Liverpool in 1940 through his childhood and the beginnings of his musical career. Much of the material in this early section was collected and saved by his mother and found by Ringo many years later after she'd passed away while he was going through boxes in her attic. What's nice about the photos in this section is that they offer a glimpse as to what it was like growing up in post-WWII England...the houses, the clothes, the prices of common household goods, and how kids and teenagers dressed, acted, and had fun. There are even photographs of Ringo in hospital during his two illnesses, their council home rent book, and the hire purchase papers for his first drum kit. The photographs then trace his musical apprenticeship and his tenure in Rory Storm and the Hurricanes as they played in Liverpool and Hamburg, also documenting his budding friendship with the Beatles. The bulk of the book focuses on his tenure in the Beatles and the decade after their 1970 split. This is where the book really shines as these are shots taken by Ringo and could only have come from the camera of someone who was in the eye of the hurricane that was Beatlemania. Several of Ringo's Beatles photos have become very well known and been widely reproduced over the decades, but the most fascinating ones are those that appear mundane or unremarkable on first glance. Taken backstage, in hotel rooms, at home, on vacation, from the back of a car or while on a train, Ringo captured the sights and feel of the world around the Beatles as they toured America, the UK, Japan, and everywhere in between. Even better are the candid shots of John, Paul, George, Brian Epstein, George Martin, Mal Evans, and Neil Aspinall. Many of them are exquisite shots where the lighting and background just happened to be perfect, capturing them in playful, pensive, contemplative, or relaxed moods. Several shots are of the guys eating, drinking, smoking, listening to music, and doing normal everyday things that Ringo was fortunate to capture for posterity. He also took several pictures of the various photographers, such as Bob Freeman and Dezo Hoffman, who hung around the band in those earlier years as they themselves snapped photos of the Beatles. It's a bit jarring yet quite interesting to see his pictures of the Beatles and their wives on vacations between tours, when they could grow beards and let their hair and clothes get away from the Beatle "look" they had to keep up while in the public eye. Shots like these go a long way toward demystifying the band and showing that behind the great music and iconic fashions, at its heart the Beatles was a band made up of four normal guys who had a deep love and friendship for each other, who were all going through the same incredible experience together.
After the Beatles split, Ringo shares numerous photos of his life in the 1970s and 1980s, many including his closest friends like Keith Moon, Harry Nilsson, and Joe Walsh (who is now his brother-in-law). This section of the book is not as large as the previous sections and speeds up rather abruptly from the late 1980s to present, but it's still nice to see these shots, including several of Ringo with George, Paul and Linda, Eric Clapton, George Martin, and others. As this is the closest the world will ever get to a Ringo autobiography, Ringo did a wonderful job telling his story in photographs. Accompanying the photos throughout are write-ups from Ringo offering his insight, stories, and the memories behind most of the pictures. In particular, the warmth and affection he has for his fellow Beatles, as well as Keith Moon, is quite revealing. His recollections of the real Moon and the sweet guy behind the madcap public persona of "Moon the Loon" was quite touching, especially as I'm a huge fan of Moon and the Who myself. If I do have a complaint about the book, it's mainly that the post-Beatles years are quite sparse in terms of the number of photos and that they are spread out a bit more haphazardly and not in as tight a chronological order as the previous sections. Perhaps Ringo wants to keep most of these pictures private, and that's certainly understandable as they're his personal property, but as a fan I would have liked to have seen more of them as they document his life as he's gotten older and reached the present day.
Ringo's Photograph book is a fun and engaging collection of photographs that any Beatles and Ringo fan will thoroughly enjoy. Photography books like this can tend to vary in terms of quality and readability, but Photograph is one the better ones in the genre. Flipping through this book feels as though you're sitting on a sofa looking through Ringo's picture albums as he sits next to you and tells you a story for each one; the effect is more like sharing memories with an old friend than simply looking through a book. The pictures are reproduced in very nice quality on glossy paper and Ringo's narrative greatly enhances the images. Photograph is one of the nicest Beatles books I've added to my library and would be a worthy addition to any Beatles fan's bookshelf.
2015 marks the year that The Who are celebrating their 50th anniversary. I disagree with this classification for a couple of reasons, mainly because A) 1964 was the year in which they solidified their lineup of Daltrey, Townshend, Entwistle, and Moon and released their first single, "I Can't Explain," and B) they really haven't been The Who since Keith Moon died in September 1978. However, as it's their band, it's their choice as to when they want to celebrate their anniversary. In any event, as one of my favorite bands of all time and one of the most influential bands in history, it was with great excitement that I looked forward to the publication of this official history, especially as it promised to have input from the two surviving members of the band, Pete and Roger. Written by Ben Marshall, upon receiving this attractive book and seeing the eye-catching cover dripping with classic Who iconography, I proceeded to tear into it to see how the story of this fantastic band, this band that has meant so much to my life and the lives of countless others, would be told from an official perspective.
***special thanks to Leslie at Harper Collins for sending a copy of the book to review!***
The introduction of the book hints that, while written by Marshall, there will also be heavy input from Roger and Pete. Of course, upon reading this I was looking forward to the insight they could offer, but it became apparent rather quickly that in actuality there would only be photo captions written by Pete and for all intents and purposes, nothing from Roger, which was very disappointing and gave the book a whiff of being a bit of a half-hearted/cash-in. How could this be an official history with such minimal input from the last two remaining members of the Who? Pete's captions, as would be expected, are quirky, funny, honest, sarcastic, and unmistakably Townshend. The downside is that, the further I got into the book, the more they served as constant reminders of how more (much more) of his input would have enhanced the book. Ben Marshall starts the Who history (Whostory?) with the backdrop of WWII Britain and the birth of the four members at the tail end of the war (or in Pete and Keith's cases, after the war ended). Inserted in this section were sidebars on life in the post-war austerity period in the UK as well as the rise of Teddy Boy subculture and rock and roll. Sidebars such as these appeared throughout the book and become more and more intrusive and eventually threatened to overwhelm the Who's story, but I'll elaborate on that more later. From here, the author goes through their various pre-Who bands and how they came together until the line-up was completed in early 1964 with the arrival of Keith Moon. The remainder of the chapters are split into eras, focusing on their first album and singles during their Mod period, their Pop Art period of 1966-1968, Tommy in 1969-1970, their period as a top act in 1971-1974, and the remainder of their career with Keith until his death in 1978. This rightly takes up the bulk of the book, with the balance dedicated quite briskly to their attempt at carrying on post-Keith from 1979-1982 and the subsequent reunion tours of 1996-present.
When going through the book, I kept feeling like it wasn't meeting my expectations as to what an "official history" should be but that eventually something I'd hit upon something that would rectify this. However, I kept reading and after finishing the book I couldn't help but think that this book was a real disappointment and, worse than that, a huge missed opportunity. There are several reasons I feel this way. First and foremost, Ben Marshall's written history offers little to no new insight or information about the band or their history. Much of the narrative is quoted verbatim from the Who's remastered CD liner notes and various documentaries and previous books that will be well known and instantly recognizable to any of my fellow hardcore Who fanatics. There were also numerous typos/grammatical errors, as well as several flat-out inaccuracies. These ranged from what I'm assuming are honest errors such as calling the Who's album from 1978, Who Are You, Who's Next (which came out in 1971) by mistake, to the author constantly messing up the name of their recent documentary Amazing Journey, which got to be very irritating. The sidebars, which grew to be almost as long as the chapters themselves, were sometimes fun and informative (such as the ones on Mods and Teddy Boys), but eventually became too long and off-topic, detracting from the central story of the Who. One of them was a long treatise on the history of the hippie subculture; while I understand this happened during the Who's career in the 1960s, the Who were one of the few bands of the era who, apart from dabbling in some florid clothing and LSD, were never remotely close to being a hippie/psychedelic band either in terms of their sound or attitudes, and as such were set apart from the entire movement. There were also some long sidebars on the Mods vs. Rockers fights of 1964 (which made sense as Pete wrote about these on the Quadrophenia album) and a heartwarming but unnecessary (at least in my opinion) vignette about a former London punk drummer telling the story of his brother watching the Who rehearse a few times in the mid-1960s. In all honesty, the book ran out of steam, and quickly, after the chapter-long tribute to Keith Moon. Granted, from that point onward I don't consider the band to really have been the Who, but in my mind if this is to truly be a definitive official history, there should have been more detail on the post-Keith years. There was very little to nothing, for instance, on the Cincinnati incident of 1979, the 1996 Hyde Park Quadrophenia reunion, or their subsequent tours in the 2000s. Apart from a chapter-long tribute to John Entwistle, this final section of the book seemed unnecessary and hurried, and for a band who has desperately tried to convince their fans and themselves that the years after 1978 (and especially after 1982) have been just as vital and essential a part of their history as the 1964-1978 period, it seemed half-assed. Finally, there were far too few picture captions by Pete and far too little input from him throughout the entire book...combined with their being zero input or insight from Roger, it seems a little specious, at least to me, to call this an official history and imply on the cover that it's Roger and Pete telling their story when really, it isn't. This may be an officially sanctioned history of the Who, but it certainly isn't their version of, say, the Beatles' Anthology book which was truly 100% in their own words. A band as important, influential, and revered as the Who deserves better as the official word on their own career.
For all of their visceral, reckless, and aggressive energy, The Who were always one of the most cerebral, reflective, and introspective bands who also were the first (and in my mind, still the best) to reflect back at their audience who they really were. Given what Pete's autobiography was like and what the best of their music offers, it was only natural that I would assume that the official history of the band would embody all of these qualities. However, I have to conclude that this book is a major disappointment and a real missed opportunity to tell their history in their own words, especially as it could have been done really well in a way only Pete and Roger could do. This book is more accurately a band history written by an outside author with minimal input from the two surviving members. Yes, there are some great photographs throughout the book, several that were even new to me, but the actual story, i.e. the words, were almost inconsequential and will offer nothing to any dedicated Wholigan. Is this a book hardcore Who fans should have? Yes, it probably is, but at the same time it's not one they need to have. For a band who has given so much to their fans, and who in turn have demanded so much from their fans in return, the incongruity with respect to this book is jarring. The end result is disappointing, especially if this ends up being the final official word from Roger and Pete on The Who.
*THIS* is what the Who were all about. Crank up the volume and enjoy!
There is perhaps no other figure in rock music so shrouded in mystery and legend than Roger "Syd" Barrett, one of the founding members of Pink Floyd. With his distinctive looks and quirky, one-of-a-kind songwriting and guitar playing, Syd was the creative guiding force that launched Pink Floyd out of the underground London art and music scene and onto the charts. However, just when it seemed that Syd and Pink Floyd were poised for a successful career, he lost the plot and succumbed to mental illness barely one year and one album in, spending the next four decades as a remote figure of interest, mystery, and in many unseemly cases, obsession until his death in 2006. Author Rob Chapman aims to lay bare all of the myths, half-truths, and flat-out inaccuracies of Syd's life and sad demise while giving a greater appreciation of his creative gifts in his comprehensive biography A Very Irregular Head: The Life of Syd Barrett.
***special thanks to Sean at Da Capo Press for sending me a copy of the book to review!***
Pink Floyd was one of the biggest and most commercially and critically successful bands of all time, releasing their greatest works throughout the 1970s. However, their origins in the mid-1960s show a much different band that could have gone in a far different direction had that short-lived configuration stayed together longer than it did; this was down to one man, Syd Barrett. A Very Irregular Head is the story of Syd's long, sad, and confusing life, from his idyllic childhood in Cambridge, his years as a popular and talented student and artist, and his stint in Pink Floyd, to his sudden decline and collapse, the public deterioration of his mental health, and his final decades in seclusion when he became a reluctant and unwitting icon. Starting with detailed background on young Roger Barrett's birth and childhood in Cambridge, Chapman uses the extensive research he's done and the numerous interviews he's conducted with Syd's siblings (especially sister Rosemary, who was Syd's caretaker for the final 25 years of his life), friends, teachers, and colleagues in order to paint the picture of a boy who was very popular. With his striking good looks, cultivated manner (being the product of a comfortable middle-class upbringing), and eccentric but charming personality, Syd (a nickname he picked up during his teenage years) by all accounts was a normal, well-adjusted young man. The death of his equally eccentric father when he was sixteen affected him as it would anyone, but it wouldn't be until years later that the true impact of this loss was seen by those around him. A talented artist, Syd followed in the tradition of so many other of his rock music peers in 1960s England and attended art school, in his case Camberwall in London. A very interesting revelation made by his close friends and families when discussing those years was their surprise that he ever made a foray into music. While he had a great love of music and played passable guitar, everyone around him was stunned by his talents as an artist and claimed that, in agreement with them, Syd considered himself first and foremost an artist who played in music and not the other way around. By 1965 he'd met up again in London with old friend Waters and two of Waters' classmates at architecture school, Nick Mason and Rick Wright. Forming a band and initially playing R&B and pop covers of the day, after several name changes Syd gave them the name with which they would eventually find eternal fame: Pink Floyd. During this same time, they began to play gigs in and around the London underground scene as Syd developed his highly idiosyncratic guitar technique and songwriting talent. (Let me note here that I will not be giving a potted Pink Floyd history in this review, nor does the book do this...it's been done before and isn't relevant seeing as Syd was in the band for less than three years). Eventually attracting management eager to guide them in recording some demo tapes, they were signed to EMI in 1966 and proceeded to release two seminal psychedelic singles ("Arnold Layne" and "See Emily Play") and their epochal debut album The Piper at the Gates of Dawn. However, with fame came an increased workload of promotion and touring and Syd was ill-equipped to handle this. Fairly early on the cracks began to appear and by the end of 1967 his behavior had become so erratic, unpredictable, and potentially career-damaging that the drastic measure of bringing in another of his childhood Cambridge friends, David Gilmour, made the band a five-piece until the end of January 1968 when Syd was jettisoned in a frankly cowardly manner (something the four remaining members of the band have acknowledged in subsequent years). What the book makes clear in a way I had never thought of before is that the decision was driven more by a rather ruthless desire to save their burgeoning young careers than an altruistic attempt to help Syd, although it should be noted that they did try to help him. Unfortunately, you can only help people who want to be helped and Syd, whether knowingly or as a victim of his illness, did not want to be helped.
After his expulsion from Pink Floyd, it still seemed as though Syd had a promising solo career in front of him. With his unique songwriting gifts and the anything-goes musical climate of the late 1960s, Syd could have been a more eccentric and electric/eclectic version of Ray Davies or Bob Dylan with his observational songs. Instead, he sank deeper into mental illness, exasperating numerous producers (including David Gilmour, Roger Waters, and Rick Wright, all three of whom helped to produce Syd's two solo albums) such that the tortured and torturous sessions for the albums The Madcap Laughs and Barrett would be the last music he would ever make. A few more aborted attempts at recording and performing new music (including a VERY short-lived band, Stars) resulted in nothing of substance; Syd was by this point almost impossibly difficult to work with. A final collapse led to one of the most famous myths about him that turned out to be true: he walked back to his mother's house in Cambridge and, barring a few stints living in London hotels throughout the 1970s, remained there for the rest of his life. There was the famous occasion an overweight and cleanshaven (including head and eyebrows) Syd showed up unannounced and unrecognized at a 1975 Pink Floyd recording session, as well as an encounter with a journalist friend who didn't recognize him when attempting to visit him at the hotel he was living at, but otherwise he never saw anyone from the old Cambridge scene ever again apart from his first love, Libby Gausden. Syd (reverting back to his true name of Roger and discarding any vestiges of his past life as a rock star) lived the remainder of his days in a mundane but relatively peaceful existence in Cambridge, disturbed only by his declining mental health and the obsessive door-stepping and stalking by "fans" that, frankly, was disgusting, cruel, and intrusive. His ill health (both physically and mentally) eventually claimed his life in 2006, but did nothing to dispel the interest in his life and career and, if anything, actually heightened it.
Chapman's book is more than just a telling of Syd's life and career; it's also a scholarly look into the influences that affected his work and the its attributes. As both an artist and musician, Syd left behind a very small but unique and rich body of work and Chapman sifts through it with an almost overzealous attention to detail in his analysis. In fact, oftentimes it seems he goes a bit overboard reading too much into some of Syd's more nonsense/throwaway lyrics. There are also several passages dedicated to miniature history lessons on many of the writers and artists who influenced Barrett, so much so that the book begins to feel like an esoteric biography on these figures before Chapman reels himself back to Syd's story. While these sections don't ruin the book, they do make it a slog in places and almost (notice that I said almost) make it feel as though they were included in order to pad the pagecount. I'll admit to being initially surprised that a book about someone who made only three albums in his entire career and then disappeared weighed in at over 400 pages. However, the book does excel at painting a rich and detailed portrait of the Cambridge arts scene of the 1960s, as well as the underground London scene of 1964-1967, drawing on new interviews with nearly all of the central figures who give a vivid picture of those heady times. The only figures who were not involved in these discussions were the four members of Pink Floyd, who though they were quoted extensively, did not contribute directly to Chapman's research. Chapman also uses many parts of the book to play Mythbuster for the various "Syd Stories" that have popped up over the decades, using a combination of dogged research and logical empirical thinking to determine that for every story like Syd walking back to Cambridge or physically abusing one of his girlfriends in a drug-induced stupor (both true) there are many that are false (Syd being locked in a cupboard during a bad acid trip or crushing Mandrax and Bryllcream in his hair onstage, among others). These are valuable pieces of truth to finally have, although I do think the author's bias shows a bit as he tries to dispel myths about Syd's hopelessness in the studio post-Pink Floyd when a thorough listen to the same albums he uses as proof shows that while Syd wasn't completely incapacitated, he also was clearly not in complete control of his faculties. Finally, there are many theories discussed as to the mental illness(es) Barrett suffered from and whether they were caused by LSD (not fully) or were exacerbated and irreversibly triggered by it (more plausible, in my opinion). Had Syd been born in 1976 instead of 1946, societal attitudes and the mental health profession would have been much better equipped for understanding and treating him successfully, but unfortunately in the 1960s there was a stigma attached to mental illness as well as a warped romance of madness, neither of which did Syd any favors at all.
A Very Irregular Head is the story of just that: Syd Barrett's strange, sad life and the aura around his decline. But it's also the story of a young man who, even if he hadn't been sick, was most likely not equipped to deal with the sudden pressures of stardom, fame, and the 1960s music industry. It also brings up the poignant question of whether Syd's life could have or would have been different had he stuck to art and become one of the famous young 1960s artists he appeared destined to be. While there's the danger that the pressures of the art world could have been equally as damaging, it can't be denied that the music industry was (and still is) far more unforgiving than the art world. However, had that alternate history happened it's more than likely that Pink Floyd as we know them would not exist. Since I've not read any other books on Syd Barrett, I can't say for sure whether this book is definitive (although I think it would be safe to assume it is based on the depth of the author's research), but Rob Chapman's book is a dense, information-packed, and scholarly look at a true creative genius who burned brightly for a short burst before tragically and slowly flaming out over a lifetime. It's absolutely a must-read read for any Barrett and Pink Floyd fan.
John Fogerty, one of the most successful and acclaimed American songwriters of the past fifty years, guided Creedence Clearwater Revival through the late 1960s and early 1970s as they churned out classic record after classic record, blazing a gloriously out-of-step trail of music steeped in early rock and roll, soul, and Americana. Their short stint as the premier American band of their generation was followed by their tragic, almost pathetically bitter and acrimonious split, which has passed into rock lore and continues to this very day, at one point even pitting brother against brother. Hank Bordowitz' excellent biography on the band, Bad Moon Rising, has been reviewed previously on this site, and former CCR schoolfriend and associate Jake Rohrer's memoir, which includes a lot of details on his time working with the band, has been discussed here as well. However, until now there hasn't been a book directly from any of the members of Creedence until John Fogerty's just-published autobiography, Fortunate Son: My Life, My Music. In Bad Moon Rising, the other members of CCR (Stu Cook, Doug Clifford, the estate of Tom Fogerty) spoke with the author, while John did not. John's book now finally gives fans and readers his side of the always-contentious CCR dispute, as well as his take on his post-Creedence career and the incredible highs and lows he hit along the way.
***Thanks to Sarah at Little Brown for sending me a copy of the book to review!***
John begins his story with the most important thing in his life: music. A short introduction has him recalling his mother sharing her love of music and singing with him and how from a small child he was interested in the process that went on behind the music: the writing, the arranging, and the performing. There is, however, a slightly cringe-inducing moment when he claims that his love of soul, blues, and jazz music can be traced back to him having a black baby doll as a child; such slightly odd little moments of candor are sprinkled throughout the book and will be touched upon throughout this review. From here, the book begins the narrative proper with John's birth in 1945 and his childhood growing up in El Cerrito, California during the the 1950s. Interestingly, while the divorce of his parents seems to have loomed large in his psyche, apart from fond memories of family vacations and mentions of some hardships (economic and otherwise) that the family endured during his childhood, this section of the book is almost completely devoid of any mention of his relationships with his four brothers. Indeed, the only two who are mentioned at all are Bob (who has been John's personal assistant since the end of CCR) and Tom (his CCR bandmate, of course), and even then there wasn't much depth. Likewise when he describes his school days, there are lots of anecdotes and memories recalled, but he makes it sound as though he, Stu Cook, and Doug Clifford were barely acquaintances during their years in school whereas just about every other book and article on CCR describes them as being good friends from junior high onward. In any event, it's when John gets to 1964 and the band signed with Fantasy Records where the really interesting stuff starts to happen.
John's recollections differ markedly from those of his CCR bandmates and Bordowitz' book regarding how he came to assume his dominant role in the band: John claims it was a mutual decision that allowed him to become the sole songwriter, singer, arranger, producer, and manager of the band, whereas Bordowitz' book and the other band members have claimed that John gave them an ultimatum that he wouldn't work with the band unless they acquiesced to his demands. What's not up for debate is that they were suckered into a horrendous contract and publishing agreement by Fantasy owner Saul Zaentz (more on this in a minute) and that under John's direction, the band went on to churn out classic after classic in a remarkably short period of time without ever seeing any of their earnings. Back to their onerous contract, John throws a new wrinkle into the story by claiming that Stu, whose father Herman Cook was a prominent Bay Area attorney, lied about showing the contract to his dad before the band signed it. All other accounts state that Stu showed it to Herman, but John claims that when asked at the time by the other three members whether he showed it to his dad, Stu paused and then said "...he said it's okay" which John took to mean as a "no." Whatever the truth, it's an interesting and entirely plausible possibility. This book really excels when John focuses on his songwriting and recording process during his CCR and solo years and when he is able to convey the joy and excitement from those moments when he knew he'd labored away to create something great. It's an almost palpable feeling and really comes across effectively (just read the section on writing "Proud Mary" to see what I mean). However, the CCR years as a whole are depicted almost as though they were a chore or a Herculean labor instead of the heady, halcyon days they were. Tom is spared many of John's barbs during this time; indeed, he spends most of his time lauding the progress of his older brother's rhythm guitar playing and his timing. The targets of his ire, really throughout the entire book, are Stu and Doug. Stu is constantly disparaged as a barely-adequate bass player (which I don't agree with based on my own ears) and a constantly negative and pessimistic personality (which I can believe). Doug is portrayed as a remedial drummer at best (again, I don't agree) and more interested in the trappings of rock stardom than the music itself (again, plausible). I have no issues with John criticizing them or his perceptions of them, but it got to the point where it seemed he was going out of his way to knock them down and honestly, it got old after a while. It also got old when he would follow up every barb with a qualifier like "I hope I don't sound like I'm being mean" or "I know it sounds bad, but it's the truth" (I'm paraphrasing, but you get the idea). He had an interesting take on Tom's departure from the band and their final disastrous album as a trio. Regarding the former, he states that had he (John) been the older brother, it wouldn't have bothered Tom that John was the dominant force in the band; regarding the latter, John claims it was Stu and Doug's idea to have each of them contribute 1/3 of the album whereas again, every other account has it being John's ultimatum. The truth, as is usual, probably lies somewhere in the middle but it only highlights what a messy and inglorious end it was for a band whose music was infused with such joy and life...
...and this is where the book starts to get a bit weird. John's firsthand account of his "wilderness years" in the 1970s when he was literally incapable of writing music is fascinating and good to finally have directly from the source. Tied down in all of the CCR-related animosity, lawsuits, and a crumbling marriage, after a couple of solo albums in the early 1970s he was unable to produce music for the next decade. He spent much of his time in his cabin in Oregon hunting, fishing, and staying out of the music business completely. Finally freeing himself from Fantasy in the early 1980s via a deal of questionable judgement where he gave up all rights to his CCR material (which he later reacquired), he had his major comeback with 1985's Centerfield album before he again stopped making music for another decade before returning for good with 1997's Blue Moon Swamp. It's interesting and telling to note that John admits to being hell-bent on playing every instrument on his albums until Blue Moon Swamp, when he realized there were other people who could play in his band that he could trust to perform as he wanted. Perhaps this lack of trust in Stu and Doug was at the root of his need to have the ironclad control he had during the CCR days, although he doesn't really go down this road. From the mid-1980s onward in the book, though, the narrative is dominated with John's almost obsessive mentions of his wife Julie, to the point that Julie herself writes half of each chapter after they first meet. Let me state upfront here that I love my own wife dearly and am thankful every day that I have her in my life, so I can understand John being in a good place in his life now that he's found the right woman. However, he just about crosses into John Lennon/Yoko Ono territory with how all-consuming and omnipresent it is. So much of what he writes about includes references to Julie or somehow a mention of her where she seemingly has nothing to do with the situation he's writing about. The last third of the book, where they alternate paragraphs to give their perspectives, is almost too cloying in its sweetness to be enjoyed. I'm by no means disparaging the love a husband and wife have for each other, and it's a beautiful and blessed thing indeed, but it's so overwhelming that the last sections of the book were a real slog to get through. Julie has been John's manager for the last several years, controlling his image, stage presentation, and musical collaborations (at least according to the book) so I suppose it's understandable, but it just got to be too much. As with Lennon, the problem isn't that Fogerty loves his wife so much...that's commendable and admirable. It's that it's so all-consuming that it crowds everything else out, and that includes self-awareness, the lack of which is one of the most striking things about this book.
This lack of self-awareness manifests itself numerous times throughout the book, with John finding a way to blame almost everything bad that has happened to him on something or someone else. Whether or not it's true in each case, the end result is that he comes off seeming very bitter and petty about slights and events that happened almost half a century ago. The most stunning example of this is when John gets to the debacle that was CCR's induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1993. As everyone knows, after the rather tense speech they all gave, John played the customary concert with Bruce Springsteen, Robbie Robertson, and others while Stu and Doug sat humiliated and dumbfounded in the audience, barred from joining in onstage. All accounts in the years since have claimed that John sprung this on them at a moment's notice right before they were due to take the stage. John adds a wrinkle to the story saying that he informed them days before that he'd be doing this and that Stu and Doug pretended to be surprised by it so they could go crying to the press about how mean he (John) was. This just doesn't sound plausible in the least, and again, while the truth most likely lies somewhere in the middle, it doesn't result in a good look for John, especially as he again rationalizes it by saying that Stu and Doug "only cared about the money, not the music" anyway.
Creedence Clearwater Revival have always been a confusing band in terms of legacy as the joy and excitement their music conveys has always been directly at odds with the acrimony, bitterness, and anger that has continued unabated from their 1972 split to the present day. And so it goes with this book: what should be a joyous celebration of John's life and career, not to mention his musical and marital rebirth, is constantly marked by petty and snide asides directed almost exclusively toward his former bandmates (to be fair, the venom spewed at Saul Zaentz is 100% justified). There's not any one particularly earth-shattering comment made that spoils the book...rather, it's spirit suffers a death by one thousand cuts, each little chipping away until the entire thing becomes quite dour. It's a real shame as the music and the story behind it should be (and is, in the places where the book stays on track) such an interesting and happy one. That being said, this book is still a must-read for any CCR fan and, along with the Bordowitz book, essential in order to have another angle from which to view the whole story. It is, however, also a book that illustrates what is meant when fans are often warned not to learn too much about their heroes. If you're able to separate the person from the art like I am, then this book is an illuminating read (and this is by no means meant to cast aspersions on John Fogerty, who I do believe is, on the whole, a good person) but in totality his book is not the satisfying and affirming read I'd hoped it would be.
The Golden God, one of the prototypes for just about every hard rock and heavy metal lead singer who has ever strutted across a stage in his wake, Robert Plant is still a slightly mysterious and private person. Certainly more open, less guarded, and not as intensely private as his former Led Zeppelin bandmate and songwriting partner Jimmy Page, Plant is nonetheless an intriguing figure who has spent the bulk of his life and career doing all that he can to distance himself from his old band's legacy, whose music and impact are ironically the very reasons for his current fame and reputation. In Robert Plant: A Life, author Paul Rees has attempted to tell the story of the enigmatic rock icon's life and career from his humble middle-class beginning in the Birmingham area through his halcyon days in Led Zeppelin and his rebirth as a restlessly searching and critically acclaimed solo artist always looking forward as he seemingly keeps his past at arm's length.
Author Paul Rees is a well known music journalist who has interviewed some of the biggest names in rock music over the past thirty years, as well as serving as editor of both Q and Kerrang! magazines. For his Plant book, he drew upon numerous interviews conducted with Plant over the years, as well as more recent firsthand accounts and discussions he'd had with some of Robert's closest friends and associates, some of them dating back to his schooldays in the Black Country. Starting at the very beginning, Rees tells the story of the young boy who was born in 1948 and had a comfortable and stable upbringing but who was bitten by the music bug at an early age. It was the arrival of American artists like Elvis Presley, Eddie Cochran, and Buddy Holly that hooked the young boy, as well as his discovery of American blues music. Much to the chagrin of his parents, Plant began singing in local rock and blues bands, causing his once promising academic career suffered. He was further smitten by the psychedelic and folk sounds coming out of the American west coast scene in the mid-1960s, slotting bands like the Byrds, Jefferson Airplane, and Buffalo Springfield, as well as folk musicians like Joni Mitchell and Joan Baez alongside with his beloved blues and traditional English and Celtic folk music in his personal catalog of influences. There was even a short-lived and ill-fated dalliance with a recording contract with CBS Records that came to naught. By 1968, Plant was playing regular pub gigs around the Birmingham area in the Band of Joy (which included future Zeppelin drummer John Bonham) when Jimmy Page was tipped off to his vocal style. Page and manager Peter Grant were planning on creating something new out of the ashes of the Yardbirds and first things first, they needed a singer. He and Plant hit it off musically, if not in terms of their personalities, and after bringing Bonham and John Paul Jones into the fold, Led Zeppelin was born. The rest is, as they say, history and I won't rehash it as the book does a fairly good job of giving the basic story of the band; I and others have also written on it extensively, so it's not worth dwelling on further here.
What Rees does do is show how Plant seemed to grow more disillusioned with the monster that Led Zeppelin became as they got bigger and bigger and the experience grew to be more about the excesses of life on the road than the music they created. In particular, he hated what his friend Bonham turned into, as well as the way Page exerted an iron grip over the band and started to resent Plant's ascension to equal status after his initial years as the understudy. Coupled with how the latter half of Zeppelin's career was marred by tragedies such as Plant's car accident, rampant drug addiction throughout their camp, and the twin horrors of Plant's son Karac and friend Bonham dying, and it's not hard to see why he came to resent the entire experience after the band split in 1980. The book takes approximately half of its page length to get to the end of Zeppelin's career; the remainder deals with Plant's subsequent life and solo career. The portrait painted is of a restless spirit who is insatiably curious and hungry for all different types of music and how to incorporate them into his own sound, a stark contrast with Page who has seemed to have been trapped in the shadow of Led Zeppelin over the last few decades. This wandering spirit extended into Plant's personal life, where his long marriage to wife Maureen ended in the early 1980s, upon which he subsequently took up with her younger sister (whom he had long been rumored to have had a thing for in the 1970s according to many in the Zeppelin camp). The book further traces his career through his two disastrous mini-reunions with Zeppelin in 1985 and 1988, the two albums he made with Jimmy Page (No Quarter and Walking Into Clarksdale, the tour for the latter album having been attended by yours truly), and the successful and critically acclaimed run of albums he's made over the last decade, spearheaded by his Grammy-winning collaboration with Alison Kraus, Raising Sand. The final Led Zeppelin reunion, in 2007, is also discussed in detail and unsurprisingly, it is revealed that Plant really didn't want to do it and only agreed because of his admiration for recently deceased Atlantic Records founder Ahmet Ertegun, to whose memory the concert was dedicated. Again, Plant is described by those around him as restless, a man who doesn't seem to want to escape his past so much as to just continually never revisit it.
While the book is, on the whole, enjoyable to read and interesting, it does tend to focus too much on Led Zeppelin (and Jimmy Page in particular) in certain spots. This is understandable as, to Robert's eternal consternation, the spectre of Zeppelin hangs over everything he does. Also, Plant's complicated and tense relationship with Page is central to much of his life and career. However, there are certain extended passages where it seems Rees spend too much time on Page's side of things, sections which feel like they would sit more comfortably in a book dedicated to him rather than one about Plant. Another noticeable aspect is that, while the author has done his work interviewing many of Plant's friends, families, and associates, there's very little directly from the man himself. There are numerous passages where the author mentions "Plant told me..." or "I was with Robert at a restaurant when he said..." but more often than not, the narrative relies on other common sources of information or firsthand accounts from longtime associates and friends like Ross Halfin, Benji LeFevre, Richard Cole, and others. While it doesn't make the book any less enjoyable, it definitely makes it feel like a completely unauthorized account. Many of the best unauthorized biographies can still feel like they are authorized given the amount of research and primary source material that goes into them. Robert Plant: A Life falls a little bit short of this, but it's still a valuable and worthwhile read for any fan of the legendary singer, even though the new information revealed tends to be of the small tidbit variety rather than anything too revealing. There is another recently published biography on Plant, entitled Robert Plant: The Voice That Sailed the Zeppelin, that I will be reviewing at a later date. Until I do so and can make a side-by-side comparison, I'm glad to have read Paul Rees' book as I feel I understand Plant a bit better than I did before.
***all of the photos in this post (except for one, noted below) were taken by me...please DO NOT use without my permission!***
Ride have been one of my favorite bands since my friend Carsten introduced me to them around 1999/2000, but since they'd broken up in 1995 I never had the chance to see them live...until this past weekend. As I'd mentioned a while back, I finally got to see them in concert at the Paradise in Boston. What was even better was that I had a chance to go with Carsten, who I hadn't seen in a while and is one of my close friends going back to our days in graduate school. The concert gave us a chance to catch up and also gave me a chance to go back home to New England and Boston, which I miss terribly and where I haven't been in almost a year.
The stage before the show began.
The concert was on a Saturday night, so when I finished work on Friday, I got in my car to drive to my parents' house in Massachusetts. It had been raining lightly all day which shouldn't have been a problem, but it slowed traffic down enough that by the time I got close to New York City it was the middle of rush hour. Eight hours later, a drive that should have only taken me five hours was over and I finally arrived at my their house, exhausted and starving. The next day was spent visiting with them before I drove to the Boston suburbs to meet Carsten at his house mid-afternoon. We drove into the city, checked in at a cool hotel (called Verb) where Carsten had booked us some rooms (since it would be a late night and we were going to have a few drinks over the course of the evening), and then walked down the street to have dinner and catch up at an excellent BBQ place. [Before moving on, I want to mention the hotel quickly: Verb is a rock music-themed hotel literally right next to Fenway Park in the Kenmore Square area of Boston. The place is decorated really cool with vintage stuff, loads of records and posters, and even a guitar and some amps in the lobby (I was tempted to pick it up and play but didn't know if I was allowed to or if it was just for show). A really neat place and somewhere I'd definitely go stay at again not only for the ambiance and vibe, but also the fantastic location in the city. Plus, you literally could walk twenty feet out the door and you're right up against Fenway Park!] We had our dinner and then made the long walk down Commonwealth Avenue toward the Paradise. As we walked in the blustery early evening, the wind was really whipping as we discussed all of the previous concerts each of us had seen at the Paradise. It's one of the venues I like the most in Boston and I've seen some great shows there, although while we were walking I realized I hadn't been there since 2003 when I saw Supergrass on back-to-back nights. I knew it had been renovated since then so I was interested in seeing how it looked inside now. Also, the week before I'd managed to get us on the guest list for the band's afterparty thrown by Creation Records, so we were really looking forward to that as well.
We got to the Paradise a little before 8pm (which was when the doors were due to open) and lined up to get inside. After entering, we decided to sit in the lounge area to have a drink and catch up some more. I'll confess I was pretty damn rock and roll here as I pounded glass after glass, probably four in all, of...water! Yeah, I was dying of thirst for some reason and just stuck to good old H2O...real rock and roll, don't you think? We actually ended up staying in there chatting during the opening band, who were the Besnard Lakes from Montreal. I think it's the first time I've ever skipped out on an opening band; usually when I get to a club, I get right to the front of the stage and stay there the entire time. Anyway, we had a lot to catch up on so the conversation was definitely worth missing them, without question. After they finished, we made our way into the club area and were able to get a spot maybe fifteen or twenty feet from the stage, a bit left of center. Unfortunately, for much of the show (as you'll see in the photos I took), a support pole was in our line of sight and blocked Loz and Andy from view unless they moved around a bit. However, as the show went on and people in front of us kept leaving to get drinks, we managed to get closer and a bit more toward center such that for the last third of the show, we had an unobstructed view of everyone on stage. When Ride were ready to come on, the lights went down and some droning/feedback sounds played over the PA for a few minutes to build the excitement up before they sauntered out and waved at us, to huge cheers from the capacity crowd. The set list is below.
Set list:
Leave Them All Behind
Like a Daydream Chrome Waves Seagull Sennen OX4 Mouse Trap Cool Your Boots Black Nite Crash Time of Her Time Dreams Burn Down Taste Vapour Trail Drive Blind
Encore:
Today Chelsea Girl
As you can see, the bulk of the set was made up of songs from their two classic albums Nowhere and Going Blank Again. In fact, all of their releases were represented (even their last album, Tarantula!) except for Carnival of Light. I was a bit bummed since, unlike many Ride fans, I love CoL and I think songs like "Moonlight Medicine" and "I Don't Know Where It Comes From" would have sounded great live. BUT, there is no way I'm complaining...I mean, look at the set list! When the opening organ notes of "Leave Them All Behind" played over the PA, Carsten and I looked at each and nodded before they tore into it. We just knew it was going to be a killer gig. [Another aside: I had been warned by a couple of friends who had seen Ride on this tour that they played at ear-splitting volume. Knowing this, I took earplugs with me as I love music far too much to risk damaging my hearing so that I can't enjoy it later in life. However, from the opening note, the sound was loud but perfectly balanced and comfortable, and I didn't end up needing earplugs at all. Other than Andy's vocals being slightly low in the mix, the sound was great and I had absolutely no ringing in my ears immediately after the concert or the next day. For a club show, that might have been the best sound mix I'd ever heard]. Back to the music, they tore into one song after another, with some highlights being "Black Nite Crash" from the much-maligned Tarantula, "OX4," "Sennen," which they mentioned hadn't been played on the tour yet and which was requested by the Besnard Lakes, and a ridiculous version of "Drive Blind" that closed the set and included almost five full minutes of a feedback and drum freak-out in the middle that whipped the crowd into a frenzy before they exploded back into the song. The encores were a really beautiful version of "Today" (with Mark playing bass and Steve making the almost violin-sounding noises on his bass) and a great power-pop "Chelsea Girl." As for the band themselves, they played with an intensity and joy that was infectious to those of us in the crowd...lots of smiling and nodding at each other, even if they didn't interact much onstage; whether this is how they've always been or whether it's a way to keep the tensions that broke them up in 1995 at bay during this reunion, I don't know, but it's something Carsten and I both noticed. Mark Gardener took the bulk of the lead vocals and played the more rhythm/complimentary guitar parts while Andy Bell played more lead guitar (including lots of tasty electric 12-string) and sang lead on a several songs. When they harmonized together, though, it was magical...THAT sound we all knew and loved. They both also mentioned that this was their first show in Boston in twenty years at the same club and asked who had seen them there back then...several hands went up. In fact, there weren't too many people that looked to be under 25 or 30 there...it was mainly made up of fans who were old enough to be Ride fans who either saw them in the 1990s or never got the chance to. Steve Queralt stayed mainly in the background but supplied that rock solid, booming, smooth bass that he's known for, while Loz Colbert was just a whirling dervish on the drums. Not only was his playing incredible but my eyes were constantly drawn to him such that I spent much of the gig watching him in awe as he worked his away around his drumkit and back again. Overall, the show was just fantastic, with an almost-perfect set list, killer performances, a crowd that was into it and appreciative (including an older guy who was REALLY into it and kept yelling for "Kaleidoscope" between songs, to which Mark said "there's always someone yelling for a song we're never gonna play!"), and a band who seemed to really enjoy the entire experience. As soon as the show ended, Loz stood up behind his kit and took a panorama of the crowd on his phone...he later tweeted it out and I managed to find myself in it (see below)...very cool!
Photo by Loz Colbert...there I am!
After the show, we made our way back to the lounge for the afterparty in the Paradise's front lounge. We hung out in there for a long time, chatting and having a couple of drinks (gin and tonic for me this time...a bit more rock and roll). The band came in and milled around and we ended up being sat no more than a foot or two from Andy Bell, Loz Colbert, and Mark Gardener. However, neither of us ended up talking to them much and even though I would have loved to have gotten a picture taken with them, I passed. I didn't want to be "that guy" going up them saying "hey man, I love you guys! I'm a huge fan! Can you sign this? Can I get a picture?" There were a LOT of "those guys" in the room doing that (and to be fair, a lot who were much cooler and laid back who just chatted with them and got a picture taken). The guys looked to be in a good mood but were understandably tired, at least visibly, and I just felt guilty that I would've been bothering them. We didn't see Steve Queralt in there but he did show up apparently as there were a few photos I saw online later where he was in there. Around 2am, which is an hour neither Carsten or I are used to staying up until since we both have jobs and kids, we decided to call it a night and took a cab back to the hotel. Next morning, it was driving back home and saying our goodbyes before I drove back to my parents to meet up with another friend for lunch before making the drive back to Pennsylvania, on which I listened to all of Ride's albums. The entire experience was great: seeing Ride, catching up with a couple of old friends, visiting with my parents, getting a chance to go back home to New England and Boston...I can check another favorite band off of my bucket list and I'll have memories of the entire weekend for as long as I live.
Mark and Andy's guitarsenal...I was drooling over these, especially the three Rickenbackers!
(As always, I'm trying to get a recording of the show since I collect tapes of concerts I've been to. So far, no luck. If anyone out there is reading this and has a copy or knows where I can find one, please contact me to let me know...thanks!)
