I'm currently reading a book I love so much that I don't want it to end. I'm now on page 169 of 243, and I know that at some point this week I'm going to finish it. It's called Bad Vibes by leader of Britpop's forgotten ones The Auteurs' Luke Haines. I don't know why I call them 'forgotten ones', I only know two Auteurs songs, and a further three songs that have been touched by the hand of Luke Haines in various guises*. The thing is, I treat him a bit like XTC, I love everything I've heard that he's been involved in but have never got round to really delving in to the catalogue. Which is funny because Haines looks a bit like Andy Partridge (another man who should write a book, he's very entertaining. I once heard him call Richard Branson 'Pol Pot with a beard').
It's his biography dealing with the period of his life from 1992-1997, "Britpop's" "glory" years. What I love about the book is the way it's written in an as-it-happens style, rather like last year's excellent, and entirely fictional Kill Your Friends (another book on my highly recommended list, and it's about the same time period too). I thought I was a misanthrope, Haines really does take the misanthropic cake. It's fair to say that during the period the book deals with he pretty much hates nearly everything, including: the term 'Britpop', Brett Anderson, Damon Albarn, Camden, the Gallaghers, the drummer from Pulp, northern Britain, The Verve, Belgium, The The's Matt Johnson, Simon Day aka Tommy Cockles, Manic Street Preachers, Metallica's Kirk Hammett, music journalists, Justine Frischmann, Three Lions, the NME. And that's just off the top of my head. And certain characters in the story are only known by Haines's own nicknames, so The Auteurs' cellist is simply known as The Cellist, and their American tour manager becomes known as The Chocolate Teapot due to his vocational shortcomings.
And you can't argue with writing like this which has made me roar with laughter:
"I think I may be turning into a cunt"
"Now it's fair to say that The Verve have got a bit of a cob on"
"The [Oasis] song in question is 'Whatever'. It sounds like the fucking Rutles. It is cack."
"Radiohead were - and this is pre the band's hand-wringing-conspiracy-theorising-meta-peacenik phase - rapidly turning into that most heinous of creatures: a heavy rock outfit, fright-wig and all. One wrong turn and it would have been into the valley of the Tygers of Pan Tang for good"
"Radiohead then, this lot were certainly being prodded with the Britpop tickling stick"
In my head that last sentence manifests itself with Ken Dodd wearing a Union Jack suit - and possibly a bass drum on his chest with the word 'Britpop' written in Goodies/Spangles/Magpie-style typeface - poking Radiohead's uber-miserabalist Thom Yorke with a red, white and blue tickling stick. Discomknockerating indeed.
Anyway, read it, you won't be disappointed.
*The songs I know by Haines:
There's also another song of his, the lyrics inspired by the book The Damned United, called Leeds United. It was released as a single but I can't find it on You Tube, I know it exists 'cos it's on my iPod.
5 comments:
I didn't realise The Facts of Life was by him. The poshest female vocals this side of Sophie Ellis Bextor.
Like Jennifer Hart, she's goy-geous, ain't she?
I've got this book saved in the cupboard for holiday.
Due to a cock-up on the arrangements front (not my fault, someone who has already turned int a c**t is to blame),I missed the chance to see Mr Haines do a reading from his book in Camden tomorrow, and having read your glowing praise, I am even more pissed orf. Grr.
Haven't read it yet - but it's on the to do list - once I've finished this
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