JOHN MARTYN – GRACE AND DANGER By Lee Barry
Lulu Books ISBN 978-1- 84728-988-9
Shot, knifed, pancreas exploded, right leg amputated at knee, there’s a comprehensive and readable book waiting to be written on the life of the man born lain David McGeachy – but this isn’t it. The title taken from Martyn’s 1980 Island album, Barry’s book is a curate’s egg of well-researched reprints, occasional revelations, and poor presentation. Whilst he’s obviously had access to Beverley Martyn, divorced back in 1977, there has patently been no contact with the subject of this book, a recent Mojo magazine interview being a rare exception to a press-wariness.
A veritable library’s worth of interviews and articles has been drawn upon to sketch an early life in Glasgow, influences (‘I’ve never been a folk singer’) ranging from mentor Hamish Imlach, and Davy Graham through to Pharoah Sanders. The echoplex years, the ’70s collaborations with Danny Thompson and the more recent hit and miss recordings and live performances are comprehensively covered. Throw into the mix, the mood swings, the substance abuse, the violence, and patterns emerge of another John whose parents split at an early age, and who developed alternately brilliant and wayward music, both inside and outside the Beatles.
The industrial levels of coke, heroin and booze that John has ingested over the years, the casual sex-on-the-road, the alternate reliance and dismissive treatment of Beverley are tempered somewhat by touchingly detailed descriptions of his warm relationship with Nick Drake (the subject of Solid Air) and the helping hand given to the similarly doomed Paul Kossoff.
There are some genuine insights contained in this book. When however, we’ve been told by page 26 that Linda Peter (sic) was a member of Fairport Convention and that Yusuf Islam changed his name to Cat Stevens, anyone with a casual acquaintance with British folk-rock and matters singer-songwriterly, will be wondering how much credence they can give to the assertions and facts related over the remaining 180 pages. Aha, so it was a Yorkshire dialect that featured in Coronation Street?!
Add to the blatant inaccuracies, typos, punctuation crimes and at times a frightening syntax, and one wonders whether Barry even bothered to get his draft proofread! Even a spellchecker would’ve helped. Mentholated spirits anyone? Mental scares? Hardly a page turns without some similar irritation and it makes for an annoying read. A trailblazer such as John Martyn is worthy of an outstanding biography but until he is accorded one, this is what we’ve got. You’re right in thinking that’s faint praise.
Clive Pownceby
The Living Tradition
1 August 2006
