This isn’t a review of a new book. Indeed, it isn’t even a new review of an old book. But it is a book that I recently re-read again after a period of twelev years, and on picking it up, I wondered if I would have changed my mind about what I said about it back in the day.
This is an edited version of the review posted on the blog on 28 April 2014….a few overkill details about how and where I bought the book have been taken out as they are largely irrelevant, but it’s worth mentioning that, for one reason or another, I only got my hands on it a week or so after I had intended. I’ve also cut out a few more sentences in which I reflected on Glasgow in the 70s and 80s, as they aren’t really relevant to the actual book review.
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All three previous books on pop music written by Simon Goddard have been a delight to read and so I was bursting with excitement and anticipation approaching the release of his endeavours to tell the story of Postcard Records.
It pains me to say it, but Simply Thrilled : The Preposterous Story of Postcard Records was a bit of a let-down. I’m not saying it’s a badly written or boring book – far from it – but the sense of excitement and anticipation of the chase of getting my hands on a copy was far greater than what I felt as I turned its pages.
The fault lies with the way the author has gone about the task. The publicity material churned out by the publishers says:-
“This is the preposterous true story of Postcard Records, the renegade label which, with its mad DIY ethic, kickstarted the 1980s’ indie music revolution. From its riotous punk origins to the intertwining sagas of Orange Juice, Aztec Camera and cult heroes Josef K, this is how they took on and triumphed over the London ‘music biz’ big boys, against all odds. Acclaimed music writer Simon Goddard has interviewed everyone involved in the making of the legend of Postcard Records. The result is a giddy farce involving backstabbing, ‘Arthur Atrocious’, gluttony, heartbreak, ‘Disco Harry’, cheap speed, ‘Janice Fuck’, disillusion, Victorian lunatics and knickerbocker glories. But it’s also the story of creating something beautiful from nothing, against all the odds.”
Simon Goddard has interviewed everyone and has seemingly taken everything they said at face value and published it. He himself knows such an approach is risky – in the foreword to the book he says what follows is a fairy-tale and not a documentary. He admits that many people’s recollections contradicted one another, while others were distorted for what could be any of a number of reasons.
So what we get is a book which feels too much of an in-joke in which the main protagonists tell the story as they want it to be remembered and which, understandably, puts them in the best possible light. This book isn’t really the story of Postcard Records – it’s more the like one of those projects in which people are asked to give their memories of a time and a place – in this instance Glasgow in the late 70s and early 80s – for a talented writer to record for posterity. I do admire the tenacity of the author in getting the notoriously reclusive Alan Horne, the brains behind the whole Postcard venture, to speak to him in such depth.
It’s quite clear that Simon and Alan spent countless hours together, and there can be no argument that the mogul has a treasure-chest of wonderful anecdotes, many of which are embellished throughout the book. But such is the size of the shadow cast by Alan Horne that I can’t help but feel that the story would have been better told as an authorized biography of his life and times, rather than having others come in and say completely contradictory things and so confuse matters.
In terms of the music, the main focus is on Orange Juice and Josef K which is fair enough given that between them, they accounted for around three-quarters of the material released on the label. And while the chapter on the Go-Betweens is one of the most enjoyable in the book – Glasgow must have seemed like a strange and alien planet to Grant McLennan and Robert Foster – the dearth of material on Aztec Camera is a bitter disappointment. They don’t feature until well into the book and there’s not actually all that much said about them.
It’s almost as if this version of the story of Postcard comes to a crashing halt at the time Orange Juice decamped to a major label and Josef K called it quits in the aftermath of one disastrous gig too many in a Glasgow discotheque in August 1981. It certainly reads to me that Roddy Frame was signed to the label only because it allowed it to boast of having a 16-year-old wunderkid on the books, rather than the label owner actually liking his music. As such, it is no real surprise that Alan Horne makes no real effort to make a star out of Roddy.
Simon Goddard admits he has written a preposterous tale, which means he hasn’t been able to come up with the definitive story of Postcard Records. And therein lies my disappointment in his latest book. In saying all of this, I am glad I bought Simply Thrilled. It has a number of very funny and outrageous tales although whether they are true or not is another matter. It ends at the point in time when Alan Horne gets the opportunity to set up Swamplands as part of the London Records empire. How that came about is one of the best and loveliest stories in the entire book….but to say anything more would be to spoil things.
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So, have I changed my opinion much?
In some ways, no, as I still think the book was a missed opportunity, but I will temper that by acknowledging my expectations were probably way too high. Actually, there’s no probably about it.
But eleven years on, I re-read the book from a slightly different perspective, based on what I think is my having a better understanding as to why Alan Horne would want to seek to keep as much control of the narrative as possible, and in achieving this, it becomes inevitable that his personality gets stamped all over its contents.
I compared my thought process on this book with how I felt, and still feel, about Tony Wilson‘s 24 Hour Party People, which was published in 2002.
Tony’s take on the Factory Records story is a wonderful read, but much of its contents have to be taken with a large pinch of salt, all the more so after reading the memoirs of so many others who were part of the scene. I knew back in 2002 that Tony’s book wasn’t to be taken as the definitive tale of the times – indeed, he even said as much when I went along to a book reading/signing event in Glasgow when it was published – so I really should have, a few years later, taken the same approach with Simon Goddard’s book….or should I say Simon Goddard and Alan Horne’s book, as I’m now convinced it was a joint effort, but one of the authors would rather not have his name attached to it.
I’m sure all of us, as music fans, have dismissed albums on listening to them on their release, only to come back after a period of time and reassess things. I’m happy enough to do likewise with this book. It’s not as much of a let-down as I felt all those years ago, and I was glad to give it a fresh read. But I still don’t think it would find a place in my rundown of the best 100 books sitting on the shelves here in Villain Towers.
mp3 : Orange Juice – Poor Old Soul
Back with a vengeance much in vogue
My friend, the harlequin, the rogue
Befriending the meek
His tongue tucked firmly in his cheek
The band’s final single on Postcard….and, allegedly, written about Alan Horne.
THE NEW VINYL VILLAIN 