See that girl: “Perhaps it’s time for the definitive biography,” commented a fellow devotee when I mentioned on the KM Facebook page that I was finally getting round to reading this. Perhaps so, because The One And Only isn’t quite it....
Rock star reads tend to fall into one of two moulds: the cash-in and the fan-wank. Karen O’Brien’s life of the much-missed and misunderstood MacColl treads a thin line between the two, and whilst it’s clear she’s a fan, it avoids maudlin sentimentality for which I’m sure her famously acerbic subject would have had no patience. It doesn’t totally avoid the traps of the genre, with some over-engineered writing that emulates NME in its pomp.
O’Brien is too respectful to genuinely analyse and deconstruct MacColl’s talent - she falls back on the ‘one of us’ and ‘witty, observational’ tags too often. When she does lurch into criticism it’s with disastrous results - I seriously doubt anyone sees Do They Know It’s Christmas? (great cause, lousy song) as equal to Happy Christmas (War Is Over) or even Fairytale of New York. I won’t mention Stop The Fucking Cavalry.
Nevertheless, workmanlike, sometimes sloppily-edited (mistaking one album with its punning title for the Jimi Hendrix LP it was satirising is a bit of a faux pas) as this is, it’s a thorough canter through our Kirsty’s life, and good enough to make me dig out my CD box set of From Croydon To Cuba, the retrospective that appeared a few years after her horrific and tragic death. Because so much of what she recorded isn’t on Spotify.
If a lot of O’Brien’s research seems derived from a BBC documentary produced after she was killed, including extensive verbatim quotes from the likes of Bono, Johnny Marr and a host of other collaborators, The One And Only becomes more original - and genuinely touching - towards its end as it describes with some poignancy the musical and personal renaissance in the last year of her life, and the shocking loss.
Not definitive, maybe, and perhaps this most eloquent and literate of musicians deserves something more graceful and analytical, but a decent tribute nonetheless these 20 years from her death. On the other hand, you could just dig out Kite (which is on Spotify) and hear the woman in her own sharp and unapologetic words and music. As she said, “You can’t get even but you can get mad.”