ID is a guilty pleasure. Blockheads were a great live band. Lyrically some songs are bordering on perfection (Poo Poo in the Prawn, Reasons to be Cheerful, Superman's Big Sister, Jack **** George) but, after reading a biography, I always see angry Ian as a little bit of a phoney, hence the guilty pleasure.
Listening to some of Wilko Johnson's stories of touring with The Blockheads, Dury was an absolute liability.
Remember listening to one story when they had to forcibly carry him out of a hotel bar because he wanted to fight someone but was soft as **** so it was always left to those around him. Typical spoilt little rich kid playing at mixing with the lower classes.
Interesting to read about Tamplin. Manager, penalty taker, general all round diamond geezer it appears. The Billericay story has a bit of the Icarus feeling about it though. Castel Din Sangro? Rushden and Diamonds? Parma? Good luck to him / them.
I thought it was because he wasn't who I thought he was. I honestly finished it & thought I don't like him anymore, probably feeling let down. Still great music mind!
On that basis, I'll give the book a swerve then. Rather have innocent (slightly) bliss, than dreams shattered
I'm in the middle of a photographer's biography now & I'm now thinking he's a bit of a prick but I like his pictures. Too late to halt the trip to Dumphries in October to view his exhibition, already booked the train tickets. I should stop reading them. Steve Jones ...
Jermaine Pennant is there as well!! Remember reading about that daft bugger leaving a Porsche or something similar abroad, when he got a transfer back to an English club. He forgot he owned the ****er!!
