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Music BooksI'm currently trying to read through the music section in the local library. This is what I've enjoyed (mostly) so far:Nick Bollinger, How To Listen To Pop Music (2004) I was totally looking foward to this book, since I've always enjoyed Nick Bollinger's print reviews and radio shows, and I was even considering buying it new which is quite a compliment if you know how much of a cheapskate I am. However, I'm largely disappointed with the result; it's nicely written and constantly engaging, but up against something like the much longer Lost In Music, it's largely disposable. The biggest problem with this book is the format - it's part of a New Zealand "How To" series (other titles cover rugby and fishing) - and it's restricted to a mere 130 small large print pages, which doesn't allow it to go into any depth whatsoever. It does raise some interesting points, including not being ready for some music at different times and about New Zealand music appearing substandard as only top level music from overseas makes it over here. How To Listen To Pop Music is aimed more at the neophyte than the converted; I hope that Bollinger gets a chance to write a more in depth guide at some point. Spencer Bright, Peter Gabriel: An Authorised Biography Gabriel's a pretty fascinating character, and there's plenty of interesting reading here. But problematic aspects of the book for me include: - A lack of attention on the Genesis years - most of the Genesis recordings are skipped over pretty lightly and Banks is the only member who really gets much voice. - Too much information on Peter's relationship with his first wife - Jill deserves sainthood for her honesty in this book. It's also disheartening to read about their successful efforts to repatch their relationship at the end of the book, then to read of its dissolution in the epilogue. - So is regarded as the culmination of Gabriel's career, which is of course true commercially, but controversial otherwise. Despite this, it's clearly written and full of interesting stories. The best one (talking about Gabriel's drug experiences): "The second was more scientific; he ate some Hash cakes provided by a roadie...and sat down at his desk with a notebook and tape recorder...Convinced he was going to die he headed for home. "I decided I would try and get home to say my last words to my wife and kids. It was about half a mile across fields to where I was living, and I was still talking to the tape recorder, so there's this very funny tape of me thinking I was actually going to die. I was getting revelations, as I approached my death, about the meaning of life. I was certain that life was actually organised into five videotapes, which were all running slightly out of sync. And very soon after I came upon this profound piece of wisdom, you hear me collapse into a ditch."" Jim Cogan and William Clark, Temples of Sound (2003) This is a tour of American's most significant recording studios and their history, planned as a road trip from west coast to east. Originally conceived as a photographic history, it's full of lavish images and it's almost worthwhile for those alone. Most of the studios have a rich history, and the stories of Stax and Van Gelder are particularly engrossing. Most of the stories reach back beyond the rock era and are all the richer for it. Temples of Sound could have been made a bit longer, but the highest recommendation that I can give this book is that it's got me interested in hearing a jazz record (John Coltrane's Ascension), which is no mean feat. Bob Dylan, Chronicles (2004) Dylan is perhaps one of the most widely quoted and discussed literary figures to have never written a book, not to mention a legendary musical figure with a career constantly perverse and celebrated. There was no question that this book wasn't going to be intriguing, and Dylan's writing style is as relaxed and expressive as one would hope. It's far from a thorough overview of his life, and the title Chronicles is appropriate; it's a series of snapshots of different times in his career, concentrating on his times as a developing singer-songwriter in New York in the early sixties, a search for privacy and normalcy at the turn of seventies as he recorded New Morning, and the recording of Oh Mercy with Daniel Lanois in the late eighties. There's a definite sense that Dylan is concentrating on the less controversial, happier times of his life, but it's all so interesting regardless that readers should feel privileged to have this degree of insight into Dylan's life. Promisingly, it's labelled Volume 1, so hopefully there's more to come. Fred Goodman, The Mansion on the Hill (1997) At the start of the 21st century, when the rock industry is so overtly commercial in most facets, the concept of a time when rock 'n' roll was relatively non-commercial is downright anachronistic. This book traces the commercialisation of rock music, as major entertainment conglomerates progressed from regarding rock music as a passing trend, then to a necessary evil ("it smells, but it sells"), then to becoming the lifeblood of large corporations. If that's a vast generalisation of the pattern, the book itself is far less dry, focusing on the individual cases of David Geffen, who became a billionaire on the back of a burgeoning rock music industry, and Springsteen's manager Jon Landau who, Goodman asserts, managed to successfully find a compromise between artistic integrity and successful business practice. This approach is purposefully far from comprehensive, but it's full of interesting insights and anecdotes into the behind the scenes characters prominent in the rock business, including the bizarre relationship between Dylan and Albert Grossman, Atlantic's promotions man Mario Medious, one of whose roles was to keep clients happy through chemical means, the MC5 who were full of internal contradictions, and Peter Frampton who was overexposed and whose career burnt out as a result. Most of the material in this book had just never crossed my mind before, and it's absolutely fascinating if, in the words of Joni Mitchell, you want to learn more about "the star making machinery behind the popular song." Ian McDonald, Revolution In The Head This might be the best book ever written about popular music, and even if it's not quite the best, it's probably the most comprehensive. McDonald analyses every single song The Beatles ever recorded, in chronological order, charting their artistic development and giving incredibly detailed descriptions of who played what instrument on each track. His argument that The Beatles peaked for Revolver and Sgt. Peppers, before a decline in the late sixties, is pretty convincing when it's laid out track by track. It's also interesting to learn that Lennon's musical role in the band was often quite crucial, laying down some of the group's most distinctive instrumental parts, his creativity making up for his lack of technique. The analysis of the partnership between Lennon and McCartney is also fascinating - McDonald states that the relationship was closer than other commentators have made out. I've also read another book by the same author - it was a collection of writings, and was hard to grasp conceptually as a whole, but the final chapter about Nick Drake (who McDonald actually met) is amazing. Karen O'Brien, Shadows and Light This exhaustive Joni Mitchell biography was written by New Zealander Karen O'Brien, who must have put amazing amounts of effort into researching this - it's crammed with interesting details and anecdotes. It does tail off towards the end, as Mitchell's work and life get less interesting, and photos of key players like Chuck Mitchell, Elliott Roberts and Joel Bernstein would also be good, but it's difficult to fault it as a summary of Mitchell's life, despite an agenda lamenting that Mitchell isn't widely recognised alongside peers like Bob Dylan as a key figure in the singer-songwriter movement. It's probably not exciting enough to warrant reading without a prior interest in her work, but for fans it's full of interest, especially in regards to her sixties work. Best anecdote: a newspaper report in the appendix, where an uncomprehending Jewel walks out of a Joni concert early after its musical content goes over her head. Andrew Loog Oldham, 2Stoned If there's a non-performing personality from the rock world who deserves his own book (and sequel), Oldham's a deserving candidate, one of the only survivors among the management layer of his generation. Oldham was manager of The Rolling Stones when the rules for rock music were still being written, and he was as much a personality and a hard liver as his clients, as well as being of the same age. 2Stoned is the sequel to his first book, and covers the second half of his tenure with The Stones, then his recovery and life in Columbia for his remaining years. Oldham allows other characters in his story to put in their perspective, and half of the text comes from other writers such as rival manager Allan Klein and Oldham's then-wife, although the Stones themselves are conspicuous by their absence. This is a fascinating stuff, particularly if, like me, you sometimes forget that there's a dark underbelly to all those catchy pop hits; check the part when David Crosby gives Oldham bad acid. Unless you're a Brian Jones apologist, this is a terrific read, well balanced and not in the least egotistical. Ruth Padel, I'm A Man (2000) "It was ultimately Greek mythic ideals of relationships, quest, triumph and danger, or exploring self through impersonating other people, which powered [rock music]." If you can stomach this pretentious statement, you might find this book persuasive, but personally I think it's some of the most pointless material about rock music that I've ever encountered in print. Padel attempts to argue that a lot of thematic concepts in rock music had their origins in Greek myth; while it's possible to draw parallels between them, of course it's natural that such universal themes as desire and love are important to both. While the sections on race and gender are more convincing, the book is still hamstrung by factual errors. The worst example reads "Public Enemy put a song on their album...called 'Black Steal In The Hour Of Chaos'. What could black musicians do when faced with all that steal?"; last time I checked, the song was still titled 'Black Steel In The Hour Of Chaos'. Padel concedes in the introduction that her knowledge of popular music is sketchy, and it certainly shows; the book's choice for featured musicians for each theme is often arbitrary. The book's not completely vacuous, and some of the stories about groupie power trips and race discrimination are interesting, but it's a novel sensation for me to read a book by someone who knows less about rock music that I do. Giles Smith, Lost In Music Giles Smith was the keyboard player with cult band Cleaners From Venus, where he supported eccentric Martin Newell. This book covers his various stages of obsession with music, as well as his attempts to establish himself as a rock star. While this could be a recipe for disaster in the hands of an egotist, Smith is a wonderfully self-deprecating and humorous writer and this book's full of interesting stories - for instance, when Giles' mother suggests in the late 1970s that he and his siblings call their band The Smiths, he replies that no band would ever make it with a name like that. Making it even more enjoyable to read, he cites XTC, Stevie Wonder and Todd Rundgren as his three favourites, to show he's on my wavelength. If someone close to you can't comprehend your musical interest (obsession?), give them Lost In Music to read. |
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Written 2001-2007, Graham Fyfe
