Ahh, Huey Morgan! Twenty years ago I thought all he said was gospel and I must admit that I still find him incredibly attractive and amusing.
He is also very authoritative (in his own unique way) about his musical heroes. Unsurprisingly they are those who also have a maverick reputation but his point is that this kind of character, living at the edge, is what makes music exciting and that it is sadly lacking today.
Ultimately, his argument is a convincing one, although we have to offset that with the fact that most of these ‘rebels’ have not lived long enough to change their ways, their opinions or their styles so there is clearly a price to pay.
I bought the book in Nottingham and then read it at a stop off in a pub on the way home which was, I think, the perfect way to experience it at its best.
I read passages out loud to D (who although not a fan of Huey – despite escorting me to see FLC live – is a fan of many of the various musicians he writes about) and we both laughed out loud.
This, for example, is his account of Leadbelly’s mysterious disappearance when he supposedly sold his soul to the devil in order to become a great guitar player: I imagine he holed himself up for a couple of months and practised like a mother fxxxxxr.
And this (after a whole chapter singing his praises) is his last word on Jimi Hendrix: The poor bastard ended up with a girl that didn’t know to turn him on his side.
You get the idea.