Robert Wyatt started out as the drummer and singer for Soft Machine, who shared a residency at Middle Earth with Pink Floyd and toured America with the Jimi Hendrix Experience. He brought a jazz mindset to the 1960’s rock scene, having honed his drumming skills in a shed at the end of Robert Graves’ garden in Mallorica, Spain.
Wyatt's life took an abrupt turn in 1973, when he fell from a fourth-floor window at a party and was paralyzed from the waist down. He reinvented himself as a singer and composer with the extraordinary album Rock Bottom, which he followed with an idiosyncratic string of records that uniquely combine the personal and political.
Along the way, Robert has worked with the likes of Brian Eno, Bjork, Jerry Dammers, Charlie Haden, David Gilmour, Paul Weller and Hot Chip. Marcus O’Dair has talked to all of them—indeed anyone who has shaped, or been shaped by Wyatt over five decades. Different Every Time is the first biography of Robert Wyatt, and it was written with his full participation. It includes illustrations by Alfreda Benge and photographs from Robert’s personal archive.
They say (you know, those people who say things) that some are blessed with voices of such angelic loveliness they could reduce you to tears by singing the telephone directory. As far as I know Robert Wyatt has never done that, though he did once sing the alphabet (twice to be pedantic - first the traditional way and then backwards) and I certainly found that pretty moving. He also made The Red Flag sound like an intimate love song. Wyatt, who has a voice for which the word plaintive might have been specifically coined, is one of the great unclassifiable originals of music: a free jazz enthusiast who had a hit with Neil Diamond’s annoyingly chewy bubblegum confection I’m a Believer, first made famous by the Monkees; a composer of uncompromisingly polemical songs which somehow always come up sounding curiously diffident; a man who makes music that is at once serious and playful; Marxist and Pataphysician; an internationalist, politically and musically, who is as English as tuppence.
Marcus O’Dair’s biography was written with Wyatt’s ‘full participation’. I don’t think he utters one word of criticism of his subject throughout the course of this large book. That’s fine by me; this is Robert Wyatt we’re talking about, after all. Anyway Wyatt himself, who seems to have elevated self-deprecation into an art form, effortlessly punctures the prevailing celebratory mood almost every time he is quoted. For an authorised biography it’s actually pretty candid. And it made me realise something I probably should have known: Wyatt is really one half of a double act with his wife Alfie Benge. In addition to being his manager Alfie was responsible for all Wyatt’s record sleeve designs and, in later years, was his co-songwriter. Different Every Time makes it clear that her importance to Wyatt, both personally and professionally, cannot be overestimated.
Wyatt announced his retirement from music in the same year this was published, 2014, so it’s (almost) up to date on the recorded output. This is a comprehensive and fascinating exploration of the man and his music. The chapters on the 1960s and ‘70s, which place his work in a larger cultural context, are particularly interesting. A couple of things become blindingly obvious: the first half of the ‘70s, contrary to the received myth of a pre-punk musical desert, was an extraordinarily creative and diverse period for rock music, and a deep vein of left field musical experimentation ran uninterrupted through the entire decade. Wyatt, who has collaborated with hundreds of artists, was a key player in this. It was also amusing, or perhaps somewhat sobering, to be reminded of a time when the brand name Virgin was synonymous with avant-rock, sometimes brought to you for just 50 pence an album: the past and foreign countries, and all that.
Basterebbe la foto di copertina di questa bellissima monumentale e costosissima biografia Wyattiana a rendere inutili le 500 pagine a seguire e a esplicare da sola l’essenza stessa del suo pensare( di Wyatt). Wyatt in foto – e qui dentro ce ne sono centinaia tratte dal suo archivio personale – non appare mai come la mancata rockstar che sempre è stato, ma sembra altro, sempre, magari un ingegnere minerario, un risolutore di cruciverba, un questuante paralitico al mercato rionale o il centenario capo del gruppo TNT. Ora dovrei parlare di queste belle pagine ma mi sovviene un sogno che feci anni fa e che per vie traverse e falsi movimenti dice molto di queste pagine di biografia. Nel sogno ero sul 451, il mio autobus romano di riferimento, alla guida c’era Wyatt - un Wyatt giovane, prima dell’incidente – perfettamente abbigliato nella divisa dell’ATAC, spiegazzato e incazzoso come certi autisti romani di lungo corso, guidava veloce e sicuro, perfettamente in grado di esibirsi in tutto l’ambaradan di frenate improvvise, semafori bruciati, salto delle buche e smoccolamenti variegati. Però, a un certo punto della corsa, invece di procedere spedito verso la Tiburtina ha girato per via Prenestina causando le rumorose proteste di noi viaggiatori. Ha fermato l’autobus, si è voltato e ha cominciato a parlare, parlare, parlare. Solo che parlava in un cockney incomprensibile, quel dialetto proletario che impasta le canzoni di Rock Bottom, ma stranamente lo capivamo, comprendevamo esattamente le sue parole. Cosa disse veramente non lo so, non lo ricordo, me lo chiedo spesso riandando a quel sogno. Probabilmente qualcosa tipo che v’importa di tornare a casa in quel quartiere di merda, andiamo ad esplorare quest’altro quartiere di merda. O forse si sarà lasciato trascinare dal suo comunismo infantile sghembo giocoso e inquinato felicemente da locopei assortiti per convincerci che le intonazioni fonetiche delle mucillaginose lingue di Londra est e Roma est son legate da un filo rosso. Dovrei ora entrare più di petto nella sostanza di questa biografia, ma ho intenzione invece di raccontarvi della mia intenzione di mettere su delle orchestre di merli. La prima sarà un piccolo gruppo da camera, cinque elementi. Insegnerò loro a fischiare Moon in June, tre improvviseranno, uno farà il pedale di basso e un altro si occuperà degli alcolici. Ci esibiremo nelle fiere di paese, ai matrimoni fra ugual sesso, alle esequie civili e alle cremazioni di persone morte in un beato sonno. La seconda sarà formata da ventisei elementi, merli particolari con un’estensione vocale di un solo semitono, lo stesso per tutti; a ognuno insegnerò una differente lettera dell’alfabeto inglese, le pronunceranno in sequenza, senza alcuna pausa tra l’una e l’altra,, in un loop della durata di dodici ore. Sarà possibile ascoltarci negli androni dei centri commerciali, vicino alla fontana. La terza sarà di un solo elemento: il merlo più vecchio che riuscirò a trovare. Avrà una voce arrochita e cartavetrosa, dovrà pronunciare “Alifib my leader” una sola volta ogni quattro anni, in quelli bisestili, alla mezzanotte dell’ultimo di febbraio. Per quest’ultima occasione ci vorrà l’invito. Potrei dire qualcosa di questa benedetta biografia e invece lascio che a parlare sia la più bella canzone d’amore mai scritta http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Co0_B... , e come direbbe il saggio Bob: amatevi e non moltiplicatevi.
ROBERT WYATT IS A GODDAMN GENIUS AND IF YOU DON'T LOVE HIS WORK THEN YOU ARE NOT MY FRIEND or at least, you know, we differ in our opinions on this topic
I was never a great fan of Robert Wyatt’s music or politics but after reading this sympathetically drawn portrait, I could not but like the guy in many other respects: his sense of humour, his open-mindedness to ska, punk, post-punk, etc., his love of pataphysics, his modesty and humility and general sense of morality. I even went back to dig out old CDs and YouTube videos (I have three or four of his albums) to give them another chance. A really enjoyable read and full of surprises.
The life of Robert Wyatt through his music is masterfully presented in this thoroughly researched biography of his life. There has been little documented regarding the Canterbury music scene in England . This book takes a giant step forward to change that situation.
Robert Wyatt's involvement with bands such as "Wilde Flowers" , "The Soft Machine" , "Matching Mole" to name just a few from that era are well documented. With the peripheral musicians from bands such as "Caravan" , "National Health" , "Gong" are also covered within this book as most of the members were friends or played within each others bands.
The book, like a record, is divided into two main sections. Side One - The early years, and Side Two - The years following Robert breaking his back from a fall from a Fourth floor window. Side two also details extensively with Robert Wyatt's political views and his participation within the various organizations.
Overall the book gives a fantastic view of that Music Scene, Including the members of "Pink Floyd" and "Jimi Hendrix" - "Soft Machine" toured with both bands - and what life was like at that time.
Robert Wyatt was born as Robert Wyatt-Ellidge on the 28 January 1945. And is still creating music today. He truly is an amazing fellow.
This is not really a biography on Robert Wyatt, but more like an intense love-fest for the artist. And really, who would want less than that? Wyatt is one of the great music figures of the 20th century. A great singer in that Chet Baker mode of intimacy, with a mind like Alfred Jarry and the politics of a hard-left fellow. The book is very strong with respect to the early world of The Soft Machine and Kevin Ayers - another iconic wayward genius. One gets detailed information about the making of all of Wyatt's recordings as well as interviews with the musicians who worked with him. Wyatt comes off as a modest man with elements of genius. One thing that makes clear is that Wyatt's wife and muse, of sorts, Alfreda Bengie is a major force in his life. In many ways, she is George to his Gilbert. Plus her best friend is Julie Christie.
Wyatt sees his life (so far) in two sections. Before and after his accident which made him wheel-chair orientated for the rest of his life. Nevertheless the accident (fall from a window) seemed to give him focus, which leads to works like the classic "Rock Bottom." A perfectionist who sometimes takes great time between albums, is also a musician who likes to work with others on their projects. But whenever Wyatt opens his mouth and sings, it becomes very much a Robert Wyatt recording. The book is essential for Wyatt fans and for those who want to research the early 60s life of bands like Soft Machine, Pink Floyd and a touch of Jimi Hendrix.
An exemplary biography of a great artist and national treasure. Meticulously researched and written with the intention to inform rather than merely to impress the reader. Highly recommended.
3rd reading in a bit over 9 years. Wyatt is the musician I admire most, and this is a first-rate biography. Perhaps only A Man Called Destruction (about Alex Chilton) is as marvelous a biography of a “rock” musician.
"[...]Robert has achieved spectacular success by another definition: longevity without compromise. In politics as in music, he has become a byword for integrity [...] In fifty years of making music, there seems not to have been an insincere note."
For once I agree with the critics. Marcus O'Dair's Different Every Time: The Authorized Biography of Robert Wyatt (2015) won accolades from British music critics: it was selected as the music book of the year by Guardian and Times, among other British newspapers. Indeed it is an excellent book, extremely informative, well-written and captivating.
Robert Wyatt, "one of the greats of English music," is mostly known as the drummer for Soft Machine, the extraordinary British band, during their 1966 - 1971 period. The detailed history of Soft Machine can be found in another outstanding book Out-Bloody-Rageous, which I review here on Goodreads.
Different is remarkably rich in details: we read about the artist's bohemian childhood, how he met his future bandmates in the secondary school, and we learn about his interest in Rimbaud's poetry, Thelonious Monk's and Igor Stravinsky's music, and paintings by Georges Braque. In 1965 Mr. Wyatt becomes a member of Wilde Flowers, one of the founding bands of the Canterbury Scene characterized by "jazz-tinged, pastoral and very English psychedelic rock." In 1966 Soft Machine is born and the band creates some of the best music of the era (to me absolutely the best - but then I am heavily biased).
Yet soon the musical trajectories of Mr. Wyatt and Soft Machine diverge: in fact he is basically fired from the band. The separation is not all the band's fault - Mr. Wyatt has always wanted to play songs rather than the cerebral music based on jazz, avant-garde influences, and technical virtuosity. Depressed and suicidal he creates the Matching Mole band, its name being a superb pun, based on the French translation of "soft machine". He meets a Polish émigré Alfreda Benge, the woman of his life, but then a horrible accident happens: he falls out of a window and gets paralyzed from waist down for the rest of his life. Thanks to Alfreda he survives and spends 40 further creative years in a wheelchair making wonderful music - which includes recording eight successful albums - on the boundaries of pop and avant-garde.
While one needs to distinguish Robert Wyatt the artist from Mr. Wyatt a person, the biography makes it clear that certain amount of crossover cannot be avoided. Usually the artists' strengths come from their force of conviction and in Mr. Wyatt's case the conviction is mainly political in nature: he has always been a left-winger, and quite radical at that. However, even being myself on the left side of the political spectrum I am unable to understand Mr. Wyatt's long-time membership in the Communist Party of Great Britain. Joining the party in 1970s, when the extreme range and depth of Soviet crimes against humanity were well known, can only be treated as lunacy. The author calls Mr. Wyatt a "Marxist jazz fan" but to believe that any communist party is guided by any ideas other than grabbing and wielding total power is akin to hallucinating. Still, even if I am eager to call Mr. Wyatt a complete idiot for his communist sympathies, I admire his music and his singing.
A very good book, meticulously researched and referenced. A great source of information not only about one of the most important and serious artists of British popular music but also about the times from the early 1960s to the current day. No gossip, no tabloid stuff, no name dropping. A sincere and focused book in which the author is basically invisible: almost a five-star book - maybe I will change my rating over re-reading.
really enjoying this musical biography,lots of musical connections from the seventies; like everyone else, probably rushed to the part where he ended up paralysed in a wheelchair after the fall, fascinating how his music changed after too,and how relationship with Alfie grew too. Back to Spotify again for hunting down those bands I never had the time to listen to then 😎
Really well-written and researched, and wonderful and inspiring in so many ways. I really didn't want it to end, which is perhaps an unusual thing to say about a biography. The more I know about Robert Wyatt and Alfie, his wife, and their struggles and triumphs, the more I admire them. Such good people. Mostly, this made me want to go out and listen to everything Robert Wyatt has ever recorded, and I did not realise he had had recorded so much.
Canterbury jazz-rock musical phenomena dealt with ,concisely reviewing the personages and collaborations that have rendered this man's musical and moral statements at the heart of the UK scene for 5 decades. Comparisons with the current politically illiterate styling that dominates artistes are indeed depressing .Hope for Happiness?
A wonderful book about a fascinating artist and person. Highly recommended.
I have to mention the absolutely great photos in this book, which are spread throughout the text rather than in a separate section. Every part of Wyatt's life is represented.
“How long can I pretend that music’s more relevant than fighting for a socialist world?” -Robert Wyatt (from Matching Mole’s “Gloria Gloom”)
In this thorough biography on the influential singer and musician Robert Wyatt, author Marcus O’Dair avoids the usual hyper-individualized narrative, choosing instead to illuminate the community and global context surrounding Wyatt’s “improvised life”. Although he could be a playful, affable, and whimsical personality, Wyatt experienced many waves of heavy depression (even suicide attempts) throughout his life. These depressions seemed to stem not from some atomized personal drama, but from a philosophical resistance to the state of the world, which was driven by an overwhelming sensitivity to the global suffering and violence caused by colonialism, capitalism and imperialism. Between the 1960s to the 2000’s, Wyatt’s life and work stood witness to the ups and downs of the Cold War, from the peak of Maoism to the fall of the Soviet Union. From the limited vantage of his wheelchair in England, Wyatt constantly questioned his role as an English, paraplegic artist within the global struggles for liberation. He pushed through the oversaturated narratives of Western propaganda to learn about African independence movements, CIA-backed fascist coups in South America, imperialist invasions from Vietnam to Iraq, and apartheids in South Africa and Occupied-Palestine (he refuses to grant even verbal legitimacy to the settler-colony of Isr*el). Finding that music wasn’t as politically effective as he wanted, Wyatt repeatedly took steps back from his music in order to focus on the internationalist causes of the Communist Party of Great Britain (at least until they became liberal “revisionists” in his eyes). During his longest attempted retreat from 1975-1985, the humble singer would repeatedly get coaxed into collaboration by a wide circle of friends and admirers; no matter how often he tried to leave music, the music refused to leave him.
The breadth of Wyatt’s musical universe is almost unbelievable, he had an unpretentious, pluralistic love for music that extended from 50’s R&B and pop to jazz, avant-garde and global folk traditions. He loved to show pop music to his “high-brow” acquaintances, but also bust out the jazz and experimental music for his friends with more mainstream tastes (there was actually a trend called “Wyatting” where people would play obscure music on pub jukeboxes, though he disavowed the pretentious trend). Over the years he collaborated with British music icons (Syd Barrett, Brian Eno, Elvis Costello), jazz composers (Carla Bley, Charlie Haden, Mary Halvorson) and experimental pop artists (Björk, Ryuichi Sakamoto, Anja Garbarek). As a young man, he once played drums in a William Burroughs stage production; he also tells the story of sitting in with The Jazz Messengers at a British jazz club while Art Blakey was taking a break. His high school band The Wilde Flowers would go on to spawn The Soft Machine, Gong, Caravan, etc—an entire web of progressive bands inspired by jazz, dadaism, pop and the avant-garde, retrospectively known as the “Canterbury Scene”. His first successful group, The Soft Machine, became a staple of London’s psychedelic zeitgeist, performing at the UFO club with a young Pink Floyd and serving as the opening band for The Jimi Hendrix Experience’s first US Tour in 1968. After getting kicked out of Soft Machine in 1971 (they wanted to ditch Wyatt’s eccentric “muddy mouth” vocals, eclectic tastes, and playful lyricism to pursue serious jazz fusion), Wyatt began the short-lived Marxist prog band Matching Mole, a tongue-in-cheek pun on the French translation of “soft machine” (machine molle).
Up until this point, Wyatt was torn between drumming in bands and being a singer-composer, but a drunken fall from a third story balcony put him in a wheel chair and made the decision for him. Starting with his 1974 masterpiece Rock Bottom, he would use multi-layered vocals and “any instrument that required only the top half of the body” to construct imaginative sound worlds that expand the horizons of what it means to be a “singer/songwriter”, often in collaboration with his indispensable life and creative partner Alfreda Benge. In addition to being Wyatt’s manager, wife and caretaker, Alfie painted album covers, wrote lyrics and was a constant force of encouragement in Robert’s life. Another close friend and collaborator was Mongezi Feza of The Blue Notes, who had moved to England to escape oppression in South Africa. The trumpeter’s perspective and experience with apartheid was a huge influence on Wyatt’s understanding of colonialism. From Feza’s premature death from pneumonia in 1975 until the fall of apartheid in 1994, Wyatt would dedicate much of his activism and music to anti-colonial and anti-apartheid causes. In addition to criticizing and highlighting injustices that get swept under the rug, Wyatt sang tributes to Che Guevara, striking miners, and other resistance movements (including recording with the SWAPO party in support of Namibia’s liberation movements), as well as dedicating recordings to victims of bombings and invasions in Iraq, Japan, Palestine and Lebanon (“We’re still here, under the olive trees / When will you see, it’s where we belong?”). In a century defined by imperialism and the constant sabotage of liberation movements, the de-colonial victory in South Africa felt like a rare beacon of light shining through the ominous shroud of the modern world.
Unfortunately the darkness loomed into the new millennium, but Wyatt continued to divert his modest spotlight to others whenever he could. Given the chance to curate a festival in 2001, Wyatt stood opposed to increasing Islamophobia and decided to feature the Palestinian singer Amal Markus, as well as presenting performances with refugees from Somalia, Kazakhstan and elsewhere. A few years later, the BBC invited Wyatt (now considered a legacy act) to edit his own radio show; instead of focusing on music, “the things I wanted to get in were things about Gaza today and the recent overthrow of democracy, the return to a kind of banana republic status in Honduras, going against what are generally very exciting political movements in South America”. As I write this in 2024, genocides rage in Palestine, Sudan and the Congo, and the feelings of apocalyptic despair are increasingly pervasive. I consider the utility (or lack thereof) of biographies on British musicians at a time like this, yet I can’t help but feel a deep resonance with Robert Wyatt who, despite his position in the center of the imperial core, remains committed to bearing stubborn witness to the West’s atrocities and encouraging the rest of humanity’s growing resistance to Western hegemony, incidentally contributing soundtracks for the long fight toward global liberation along the way.
I picked this book up after reading Brian Eno's "A year with swollen appendices". The book, like a record, breaks down in two parts: before Robert Wyatt fell off a window at a party at the age of 28, and after the accident when he became paraplegic.
It covers his family upbringing, his life-long interest in jazz, his band endeavours (mainly) as a drummer (The Wilde Flowers, Soft Machine, Matching Mole), his solo career (mainly) as composer and singer (solo albums and collaborations), his curation of the Meltdown festival at the Southbank Centre in London, and more. His passion for girls in the era of open sex, drugs, relationships; his exceptional relationship with Alfie (artist, wife, manager). His fears of being inadequate (whilst enjoying the reputation of an extraordinary musician amongst other artists and fans), his stage fright, his numerous depressions, his life-long problem with alcohol, his sobriety, his paraplegia, his political activism, his Marxism and his passion for Noam Chomsky, his interest in pataphysics. His network of friends/helpers: from Julie Christie Brian Eno, from Phil Manzanera to Paul Weller, from Gilad Atzmon to Andy Childs.
This is a great book, really inspiring.
I love the idea of always pushing yourself with music, trying new things, not worrying about a genre, being an artist first, finding your voice. I love the idea of such a strong and solid partnership (the one with Alfie). I love the idea of a thriving intellectual life (controlled) combined with a grotty (uncontrollable) physical one - Pasolinian.
“Comicopera then becomes progressively darker during its middle section, The Here and Now, as its scope expands to take in the war in Iraq. As an Englishman whose democratically elected leader had trotted into combat behind Bush, Robert Wyatt felt implicated. A Beautiful War is about so-called smart bombs, which even the US Air Force now acknowledges weren’t quite as smart as was claimed at the time. Out of the Blue shifts perspective to the effect of those bombs as they fell to the ground. Alfie’s lyrics were inspired by TV footage of a Lebanese woman left stupefied after her house had been blown to smithereens. From the apparently innocent opening detail, ‘No need to wipe your feet, the welcome mat’s not there,’ the track builds over jarring, jagged electronics and shards of free-jazz brass. We hear that ‘something unbelievable has happened to the floor,’ that the stairs have gone, and finally that the house has been blown apart. The climax comes with the repeated line: ‘You’ve planted all your ever-lasting hatred in my heart.’ Robert’s voice remains neutral, but it is the angriest line he has ever recorded – and one, he says, he would never have written himself.”
This is a book to dip into and dip out of. You could read a chapter, or part of a chapter, and it reads as a whole reading until you stop and read something else or do something else. You could read another chapter and be equally pleased when you stopped reading. The point about Robert Wyatt as a person, as a composer and musician, is that he brings his whole self to what he is doing and being. He has also made being awkward more than functional within the music business, and done it more professionally than many other recording artists would know how to do. That is why he has more control over what he has recorded than nearly all of his contemporaries, and yet his stock and reputation remains high without him being seen as 'controlling'. That he stopped recording new albums in 2010 with an extraordinary 'covers' album has been a loss to the recording industry since, after that critics and musicians alike have celebrated his guest turns on other people's records with nearly the same fervour. The nearer the present time we get the fewer those guest turns get, year by year.
That he was candid about why he stopped; everyone has to stop sometime and he found that the amount of alcohol he drank whilst recording was unhelpful to his marriage and that marriage mattered more is a fine example of human behaviour to learn from. The nuance with which this book is written will keep it a classic biography of a musician for decades to come.
A truly inspiring biography, great writing style, detailed, enriched with accolades and interviews of all those who have been working with Robert Wyatt. It’s a choral biography, a rare document which gives an in-depth look into the Canterbury musical scene as well as into all of Wyatt’s passions and endeavours, with objectivity. Robert Wyatt is depicted for what he really is: a multifaceted talented musician and a passionate human being, always curious and ready to question his abilities in order to push his art forward, to improve. Definitely not a rock star, but someone with whom I’d like to sit and chat over a cup of tea.
This biography of Robert Wyatt provides a complete, detailed overview of his musical career from the very beginning up to his recent retirement. An absolute must for people who have loved his music for decades, made by Soft Machine, Matching Mole, Robert Wyatt solo and in numerous collaborations with other musicians.
Picked up this book because I'm a huge fan of early Soft Machine and liked the small amount of Wyatt solo songs I had heard, and I was interested in learning a bit more. Now I'm completely obsessed with him as a solo artist and can't stop thinking about him. This book is seriously in-depth and incredibly thorough and well researched, and it gave me a much larger appreciation for him and his music. Robert Wyatt is one of the most creative musical minds that's come out of the UK and this is absolutely a must read if you're a fan. (Or even if you're not a fan, because after reading this I'm sure you will be.) Highly recommended.
A warm, wonderful and moving biography of one of the great musicians of our time. I've been a fan since 1968 and there was plenty that I didn't know. Marcus seems to have interviewed virtually every musician associated with Robert who is still living. Mandatory of any fan of Robert, certainly, but also of interest to anyone into progressive music, especially Canterbury or RIO, although Robert himself doesn't like those labels.
Decent biography of an interesting life though a little short when it comes to critical views and reviews. There wasn't quite enough depth to explanations of the genius of Robert Wyatt for those of us who haven't ever quite "got it", nor space given to those commentators who, like me (us), didn't "get it" either. Still, it made me want to search out the music to see what I was missing, to see if the genius was more evident (it wasn't, but maybe that's just me).
Stuffed with facts. Works very well in that respect. After finished reading I have a very long list of music to explore and have already found some real treasures. Maybe not a book for people not into his music.