This is one of the best books ever written about the British Invasion bands of the 1960's. Alan Clayson not only did his homework in researching the book, he was actually THERE-as a musician and contributing writer to several British music newspapers and magazines. He writes of bands forming in the late 50's and how many(but not all)of them made it big after following The Beatles & Rolling Stones to the good ol' USA. This story is an integral part of 60's rock and roll, never boring and will leave you wishing for an eventual followup. Just looking at the pictures will have you wondering "whatever happened to?"....A MUST READ!!!

I didn't really learn anything new about the Yardbirds after reading this. Considering they were one of the most exciting and important bands in rock history, I would have expected more 'meat'. I felt Alan Clayson's writing style got in the way at times, distracting somewhat. However, the photos are really outstanding, particularly the cover shot showing them at Studio 51 in London (I think). What a classic moment frozen in time. Glad I read it. Any Yardbird book is better than no Yardbird book, however, there are better ones.

With great anticipation I ordered Mr. Clayson's book, however having finished it last evening I would have to say that I am somewhat disappointed.

There is certainly no lack of research or knowledge on Mr. Clayson's part, but perhaps it was his style of prose that put me off. He writes not necessarily in a high-minded manner, but perhaps it is English dry-wit which makes it hard for an American to slog through; in many cases I could almost picture Mr. Clayson and another UK resident nodding and winking at each other across the bar. Annette Carson's JEFF BECK: CRAZY FINGERS was written in a much easier-to-digest style.

The Yardbirds were known, at least in my youth here in the USA, as a band much better seen in person than to hear on record. Mr. Clayson certainly explains to the reader why that is so. The description of life on the road, for The Yardbirds, should be enough to put off any youngster with delusions of trying the same; that is, if he could get through to that point in the book.

Being somewhat of a "gearhead," I missed discussion of the bands' equipment or more technical side. The photographs printed in this book are quite wonderful though, and to a degree appeased my appetite; Chris Dreja certainly went through some guitars! It is just a pity that things such as this were not spoken of in the text.

I can see where this book would appeal much more to the English market than the American, given the discussion of musical groups never heard of here, and in that way the work is much like Mo Foster's 17 WATTS, where one must sort through that tedium.

All in all, not a bad book, but not an easy read. That said, the overleaf shows that Mr. Clayson has published many works on music of the era, so he certainly has the authority of his research behind him. THE YARDBIRDS and his other work are surely the "go-to" source for any trivia you may wish to ferret out.

High class bio of the Most Blueswailins, immaculately designed with dozens of rare photos (though precious little of the LITTLE GAMES era band). Author Alan Clayson makes it clear his book is a stylized, highly-personal take on the band, so it came as no surprise the pages were filled with empurpled hipster prose. Yet Clayson succeeds in eliciting trenchant quotes (both archival and new) from each member of the group, and captures the band's seat-of-the-pants creativity with eloquence and humor. On the downside, Clayson can't maintain a narrative and wastes too much ink on irrelevent details about other artists---especially aesthetic peewees like Dave Dee Dozy Beaky Mick and Tich and the Downliners Sect, both of whom make the Seeds look like the Beatles. There are also a number of factual errors (though only a pedant would care that Keith Relf didn't write "Shapes In My Mind") and a puny chronology almost entirely cribbed from Greg Russo's superior (though more workmanlike) ULTIMATE RAVE UP. The biggest problem with the book is Clayson's unwillingess to allow the band's story to unfold on its own. Virtually every paragraph is crammed to the gills with snoozy hyperbole that says more about the writer's fascination with his prose than it does about the subject. Nevetheless, it's a worthy pick up for fans of the Yardbirds, who have waited eons for the kind of journalistic respect accorded to the Who, Cream, Beatles, Stones and their other rivals. Where before we had to trawl through [the webites] to hunt down a battered copy of John Platt's 1983 book and pay [good money], now we have two quality reads---and despite his pretentions, Clayson's love for the band that gave us "For Your Love" and "Shapes of Things" shines through brightly. I can't knock him for that.

I grabbed this book with joy-at long last,a book on the Troggs!I struggled mightily to get through it,but it is written so strangely,it's really hard to get through.And I don't believe it's just because the authors are English.They've chosen to write in a very off-putting style.I have to rate this a major disappointment.The ultimate Troggs book is yet to be written.

The Troggs are often classified as simple or grandfathers of punk.What they really contributed to popmusic is the power of a good hook or melody. Together with some extra's as the image and the charisma of the leadsinger Reg Presley you can become famous. As they did and they still are touring during 35 years. They work and make the most important element of pop worthwile; being a popgroup that gives their audience the possibility to see them live!. That's what The Troggs are about. Together with some real big songs as Love Is All Around and Wild Thing they are famous and , at last, also recognized as important. Read their history and relive the ups and downs on the road.Excellent.

Not The best George Harrison book out there. Very tough read due to a lot of meaningless detail.

All i can say is that this author is some bitter hack, who tries to reduce George Harrison to the level of mediocrity. Very boring with no real insight or focus. Also it just left me with a bad taste in my mouth, brain, & heart.

I'm surprised at the negativity and hatred this book spawns. ... I enjoyed this book. So much of Beatles literature is paved with the same regurgitated facts. This book in no way adds a tremendous amount of knowledge, but at least it paints a fairly unique portrait of George, unlike the Guiliano book. The book is often cumbersome in its Britishness, but I appreciate the author's take on a guy who might as well be St. George ... This book isn't the bible, but a perspective.

It seems this book was written for the author to show off how many big (and useless) words are in his vocabulary. Although it is filled with some good and valuable information you can't read more than a few pages at a sitting because of the writing style. If you took all of the useless words out the book would be about 75 pages.

This book was much harder to read than I expected. The author is British and expects that his readers are all British. Unless you have an intimate knowledge of England, its television shows, its local celebrities and its slang, it is easy to get lost. As an American, I found myself unable to follow a good deal of the book. I understood enough to get the gist, but feel I missed an awful lot of the information because it may as well have been written in a foreign language.

As an inveterate Beatles fan, I was naturally drawn to this book. Clayson does an admirable job of following Ringo from his early days in the rough Dingle section of Liverpool to his years as a Beatle and beyond.

Clayson's use of quoted interviews with people who knew and worked with Ringo is what makes this book so effective. I like the way he portrays Ringo as approachable, as somewhat humble about his stellar success as one quarter of the world's number one band. This is definitely worth reading.

Few would argue that the Beatles are the most well-documented and critiqued act in entertainment. Admist a vast sea of literature, there are bound to be books that don't necessarily give those who are casually interested in the Beatles or those who are avid fans the best and most interesting source of information. This book is one of those examples. To the casual fan, the book will mean nothing since it does not serve as an introduction to the group's history. More notably, to the more serious fan, the book presents nothing new -- these "myths" have been known and understood for years. For example, it's safe to say that a handful of them stemmed from Philip Norman's "Shout" and Nicholas Schaffner's "The Beatles Forever" - two far more superior books, but not without their flaws and questionable interpretations. If you are an avid fan or a more serious Beatle "scholar", you may want to skim through this book as I did and see the humor in it. Then, toss it in the pile of other trivial Beatle books to recycle. If you are a casual fan and want more of an introduction to the greatest rock act of all time (including all the "mythology"), you are better off investing your hard-earned money elsewhere.

Obviously, Spencer Leigh and Alan Clayson haven't written enough books on the Beatles....here's another one...sighhh. I wonder if either of them have ever had a real life and have ever experienced (or accomplished) anything for themselves, and not through (on the coat tails of) the Beatles. Nonetheless, their rantings and ravings on all types of non-interesting topics and tidbits of the Beatles in this book makes it so obvious that they have nothing left interesting to say and that this is just another chance to remind the world that they are out there and are desparate to be heard. Here's another myth debunked: This book is worth buying.

Alan Clayson (author of many music related books - including biographies on John, Paul, George and Ringo) and Spencer Leigh (also an established author, e.g. "Drummed Out - The Sacking Of Pete Best") have gotten together to once and for always put paid to the many, many misconceptions that exist around The Beatles. Misconceptions which seem to crop up in almost any new tome about the Fab Four, as there would seem to be very much copying and very little proper research going on.
As the title indicates, there are 101 topics in this book, each in a separate chapter for easy reference. A lot of the topics described here are of course already known to avid Beatle collectors, but there might well be a few things in this book that might surprise you. For instance, I didn't know that "Love Me Do" was not the first Beatle lyric ever to appear on an official record. It turns out that Johnny Gentle recorded a song called "I've Just Fallen For Someone" under the name of Darren Young. This song features a middle eight by John Lennon and was recorded and released (July 1962) prior to "Love Me Do" which was released a few weeks later!
And for any would be author of a new book on John or indeed all four: This book once again proves that John was NOT born during a luftwaffe bombing raid! Many, many books claim that he was (some even claiming that the raid was particularly fierce on Wednesday morning 06:30 on October 6, 1940) but the Liverpool Echo for that week confirms that there wasn't a single German aeroplane over the city for that night or even the following night!. Let's hope we won't encounter that mistake again in any new books about The Beatles.
So, all in all a very pleasant book to pick up every now and again to check on certain topics and certainly a must buy for anyone planning to write anything at all on the Fab Four!

All I can say about this book is: buyer beware! Don't take Mr. Harry's word for it, make sure you doublecheck everything you read. This book suffers from the same annoying errors as his "Beatles Encyclodepia", that is, there are way too many of them, some of them so superficial that you'd think he did no research at all (i.e. Dennis Wilson date of death is off by two years). Almost everytime I pick up this book, I find another error. Mr. Harry, feel free to send me a draft of the next edition to review for you. Free!

Bill Harry had a good start with the concept of a Who's Who of musical history, but lost it terribly when noticing the constant mistakes, misspellings, and misinformation. Just when you get into learning some tidbits of info, he loses you when the reader has to fill in blanks and correct information. A good idea, but get your facts straight.

This has a good premise but execution was so-so. Too many errors and what was particularly galling was a lack of information on Motown artists. This is ambitious because of the scope of the subject but the deficiencies of this book are annoying. Maybe the next edition could clean up things a bit and hopefully would be a lot better.

Man,Alan Clayson really dislikes Serge Gainsbourg,I never read a book where an author puts his subject so low,what's worst he does it in a style that's so hard to follow it's almost a dare to finish this book,(makes one wonder if it's written in english),he had a lot of mistakes also,and he doesn't interviewed nobody close to Gainsbourg in real life,it seems all this books offers comes from his resaerchs and personal opinions,what's odd if why he wrote the book if he feels so bad about him.A bad book poorly written.

Like many reviews have already cited, it's a shame this is the only biography of Gainsbourg in English. This self-appointed "biographer", Alan Clayson manages to make one hell of an interesting life, unspeakably dull. Clayson simply cannot write.

For example:

"Until showtime, Serge might tinker secretively on a battered piano in a backstage alcove, but he couldn't stop himself being dragged into the behind the scenes intrigues and jealousies that would come to a head in 'prima donna' tantrums you could hear in the galleries and squabbles that ricocheted like shrapnel between any given combination of the principals for all the wonderful-to-be-here vaporings and scripted grinning unzipped as soon as they got in front of the footlights".

Less is more, pal.

If this sort of self-indulgent "purple prose" turns you on, by all means get the book. I couldn't believe what I was reading and it's apalling that Clayson's publishers put this stuff in print for unsuspecting Gainsbourg fans.

Besides being horribly written, Clayson is utterly arrogant and contemptable in tone. He's not only dismissive of the French music scene but apparently on his subject as well. I mean what's the point of writing the book in the first place?

What's worse is the guy doesn't even have his facts straight.

For all practical purposes, Clayson skips over one of the most formative events in his subject's character. For all the bile and venom Gainsborg poured into his ROCK AROUND THE BUNKER album, all we get from Clayson is a seemingly casual mention of Serge being a Jewish teenager during occupied France. No details or events are supplied on what was undoubtedly a harrowing time in Gainsbourg's life. The best we get is a caption under a photograph reading, "Lucien was concealed in a woodshed during a Gestapo descent on his secondary school".

In short, this is not only a clumsy, inept attempt at biography, it's an unbearable exercise in self-indulgence on the part of the writer. Pass it by and wait for a better one. Don't let this piece of idiocy be your introduction to Gainsbourg's outrageously uncompromising talent.

It's a pity that this turgid tome is the only Gainsbourg bio in English, but that will be changing soon, with a new one due in 2002 (and tantalizingly previewed in a recent issue of MOJO). Once it appears, Clayson's book can slink into the obscurity it deserves. I'm a major Gainsbourg fan, but am not averse to a warts-and-all portrait: would that Clayson gave us that much. No, all we get here is uninformed contempt for the man's music and the electrifying French popular culture from whence it sprang. He can't be bothered to put Gainsbourg in his context, and thus major contemporaneous French movements such as the cinema's nouvelle vague are given but cursory glances (and in the few sentences it is accorded, Clayson manages to embarrassingly mispell the names of both Chabrol and Truffaut - Chabril and Truffant, indeed)!

One has to wonder how much familiarity Clayson actually has with Gainsbourg's music: he admits to finding the CONFIDENTIEL album (spare songs delivered by one voice, one guitar, and one bass) indistinguishable from the heavily orchestrated material that immediately precedes it.

The discography at the back is loaded with gaffes that betray a shocking lack of familiarity with the music, if not total indifference: early tracks such as "La javanaise" and "L'eau a la bouche" are cited as c. 1968 duets with Brigitte Bardot when in fact they were recorded and released 6+ years before, by Serge alone, when Gainsbourg, by Clayson's own timeline, had not even MET Bardot! It's easy to see how this mistake was made: the songs were included to fill out a collection of Gainsbourg/Bardot collaborations in 1968, but less easy to understand how anyone who had devoted time and research to an artist's career could miss that. These are MAJOR songs in the Gainsbourg oeuvre. Just as telling is Clayson's footnote to the song "Je t'aime... moi non plus": "also known as 'Le chanson de SLOGAN'". No it's not. They are two COMPLETELY different songs, something anyone who had done the acceptable minimum of research would know.

If you want to read a biography that provides you with no context, treats its subject's creativity and national culture with utter contempt, and makes glaring errors of the kind cited above, VIEW FROM THE EXTERIOR is the book for you. If not, hold on, for help is on the way.

Get your facts right, Mr. Biographer. Ravi Shankar is an INDIAN legend and sitar virtuouso; and not Bangladeshi as the author seems to believe (he notes this again in his brief interview with BBC, upon George Harrison's passing).

Makes you wonder how much else is accurate in the book !

Not worth a dime.

Rife with personal bias and the author's "opinions" on Harrison's life and work, as well as other subjects on which the author sees fit to comment, this bio is badly written, bears no touch of an editor's hand, and was not even proofread adequately. Conjecture replaces fact, and much of the book reads like a summation of previously-published articles and books. No new revelations are presented, and important facts and events in Harrison's life are given short shrift or omitted entirely. The few quotes from Harrison's intimates are old, such as statements Pattie Boyd made in the late 70s. Clayon also makes bare statements without any evidence, such as Harrison's having had a "drug addiction", which Clayson never supports with any facts or evidence. This is typical of this sloppy, amateurish mess. Chronology appears to not be Clayson's strong point, either. Worst of all is Clayson's bald statement, at the end of the book, that he simply doesn't like or respect certain [unnamed] persons in music -- and therefore either doesn't write about them or does so as briefly as possible. Eric Clapton thus rates a few paragraphs in this book, despite having been Harrison's friend for thirty years, and having played significant roles in Harrison's personal and professional life. Clapton, whom Clayson states is "overrated", is dismissed in a few sentences. Others only have their names mentioned once or twice. But musicians whom Clayson deems "worthy of respect" are mentioned time and again at length. This sort of naked bias is inappropriate in an allegedly objective look at Harrison's life and work. Clayson's opinions are unsound, his research absent, his writing laughable. While he posits himself as a music insider, in truth he appears to be someone desperately TRYING to be an insider, and attempting to use this book to gain Harrison's approval and respect. Bad form

The writer can be remarkably annoying as he is self-centered and opinionated about everything and everyone he writes about. Get past that. His facts aren't always right and the book is neither proofed nor edited well. Get past that too. This is an earnest attempt at biography of a subject who did not want to have any more writing done about his public or private life. The writer really tries to get inside Harrison's music and his world. He succeeds at going deeper into Harrison than most any other writer has ever done, however, and that is worth three stars. While lacking the insight and research into Indian sprituality found in Geoffrey Giuliano's Dark Horse (which has other faults that Clayson doesn't stumble into), he really applies himself to Harrison's solo recordings in a way that no other - to my knowledge - critic has done ever. When Harrison died (or disappeared), the lack of true critical review of his solo work (between 1973 and 1987 at least) underscored what Clayson had achieved. Which isn't to say that he does a great job writing about those many years of recordings, but he does give them an objective, honest and careful listen, putting them into the perspective of his full musical career.

Glad to see that other reviewers share my thoughts on this infuriating "Maze" of a book. By the end of the first page you realize that you've walked into something that's hopelessly tangled and confused. You keep stumbling on in the vain hope that the whole nasty mess will EVENTUALLY "Straighten itself Out" . No such luck. Your persistence DOESN'T pay off. The endless twists and turns only get worse. I bought my copy for $ 15 at a local market. Boy, what a waste of Money!I started to read it late one evening. After a couple of minutes I found myself mumbling such comments as "What the hell is this all About ?". It's like reading a foreign language .... I couldn't "Cotton On" to ANYTHING he was saying. By page 23 I'd had enough .My head was spinning. I felt quite dizzy ... like I'd just completed 15 circuits of "The Whip" at "Luna Park" at high speed. A word of advice to would-be purchasers.... Load up on your favourite "High" if you want to give yourself a fighting chance of being able to make head nor tail of this utterly nonsensical waste of paper . If being inarticulate was an Olympic event, Mr Clayson would be a gold medalist. Suitable only for use as a doorstop when those hot North winds start to blow. Books like this could have a laxative effect on some readers.

This book is just hard to read -- period. One would think that a biography on Ringo would be like himself -- fun. Instead, Clayson wrote a book on an interesting subject and made it as much fun to read as the collected works of Milton. Maybe Clayson is embarrassed that a writer of his "caliber" is churning out books on Ringo, instead of writing the great British novel, and wants the reader to suffer along with him. God knows he seems more intent on showing the reader how smart he is, rather than informing and entertaining us.

Clayson also seems focused on Pete Best, who I guess gave him an interview (Ringo would not). Finally, there are many sloppy factual errors in the book. The one error I found most ridiculous was Clayson's saying that there was trumpet on Helter Skelter. A trumpet? Is he sure there wasn't a fiddle and banjo on that one too?

One of the few interesting things about the book is a picture of Ringo as Elton John tries to kiss him. His expression is priceless.

There are many books about The Beatles but most of them focus on the accomplishments of the group as a whole or the exploits of Lennon and McCartney, and to a lesser extent, George Harrison. Ringo Starr is usually overshadowed, so a biography on his life should have been a worthy addition to any Beatle fan's bookshelf. Unfortunately, it's not the book it could have been and ultimately disappoints.
Beginning in his teddy boy days in Liverpool and ending with his first "All Starr Band" tour, this biography does have segments to recommend it. In particular, the chapters covering 1970-1990, as Ringo's post-Beatle life has been chronicled less than his days as a mop top. We get some insight into his successes and failures in this period including wayward record deals and a bout with alcoholism.
Sadly though, Clayson's book fails to get close to his subject in any meaningful way. Ringo wasn't interviewed for it and nor were any direct family or former lovers or any of the other Beatles or Beatle sidekicks or musicians who worked with his after the break up. Clayson relies almost solely on newspaper stories, articles in the music press and other author's books to piece together Ringo's story. Those interviewed for the book are a bunch of no-names who could probably call themselves acquaintances of the man but nothing more. It's obvious that Starr and everyone who is really close to him, decided not to cooperate with the author, so Clayson's book reads like a scrappy research project cluttered with endless footnotes. Because of this, the book lacks depth and we learn little of the man who was once Richard Starkey. Clayson's writing style is also quite awkward because he tries to string together forty to fifty referenced quotes into each chapter, making it read like a university thesis at times. The odd factual tidbits are the only thing that recommend it because other than that, it's a hollow book, lacking both insight or emotion.