Memoirs of a pop proponent/obsessive for those seeking reassurance
Within these 277 pages, Giles Smith has flattened out his out life, cut it roundly into record form and inscribed it with a honest groove of immediately absorbing and flowing anecdotes of one man’s obsession with popular music. Its modulation throughout has all the humble hiss and fizz of an old folk record: self-confessional in style, it crackles with the witty and embarrassing truths of a raconteur revealing all. With a great deal of warmth of character, Smith spins each tale with a perspicacious detail towards what it is to be addicted to the pop pressing, as he describes with lucid detail how he identifies himself within its orchestration, imagery, and icons.
From the sudden realisation that at the age of twenty-seven he had failed in his mission to become Sting; to the innocent recollection of which album he would like lose his virginity to; to the great purge of his record collection before he leaves for university in order to save space on his father’s car and face amongst new friends (we’ve all been there!); it’s Smith’s ability to relate to those who have similar preoccupation with music and explicate, in a convivial manner, that ‘you’re not alone in you obsessive afflictions’, that makes this such a compulsive read. As a re-release, this is not to be missed second time around.
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