Even JK himself could have not written a better review of "65 - My Life So Far"

blog.masterton.co.uk/2010/01/king-of-books.html

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King Of Books

POSTED BY JM ON THURSDAY, JANUARY 28, 2010

I don’t think I’m alone in observing this. In pursuit of quick payoffs and easy profits the publishing industry has in recent years contrived to devalue one of its most worthy genres. Once upon a time the celebrity autobiography was a lovingly crafted work, written (or ghosted) by someone at the end of a long and distinguished career and crammed not only with insights into the most famous moments of their life’s work, but also offering an explanation of how they grew to be the person they are and what hurdles they overcome along the way. Now all too often the shelves of what is left of the bookselling market are crammed with lightweight tomes from barely-famous starlets barely out of their teens. These aren’t books that teach us about the individual but merely attempts to frantically cash in on a name before the inevitably transient nature of their celebrity passes them by.

This does mean that the few celebrity autobiographies that are truly worthwhile are the ones most deserving of appreciation. Particularly as in this particular case, the best life story you will read all year is one you might not even realise exists. Imagine if you had a story to tell, a lifetime of experience and influence to impart and yet due to circumstances beyond your control your reputation had taken the worst kind of public battering. What happens if you are about to tell the full, unexpurgated version of your life story with no holding back or skimping on details and had absolutely nothing to lose by doing so?

Welcome then to “65 - My Life So Far” by pop star, label boss, impresario, presenter, producer, consultant, legend and (according to the popular press) vile pervert Jonathan King. He acknowledges at the start that had he not experienced the dramatic fall from grace he suffered at the start of the decade, he might well have written a very different book, one that was slightly more circumspect and which glossed over details for the sake of propriety if nothing else. With that restriction removed he is left with nothing else but to tell the absolute truth, in all its sticky details.

Thus the first part of the book is taken up with what Frank Skinner memorably described as the “hurry up and get famous you bastard” years, detailing the early life of the young King as he progressed through the public school system of the 1950s. It is as much a tale of sexual awakenings as it is of personal development as friends, classmates and comrades (but thankfully no Masters) all learn together the meaning of their erections and what they can achieve with them. Of course there is more to it than just wanking games, but you are left feeling flushed and abashed by the end as the writer takes an almost childish glee in documenting the details of horny adolescence that we all experienced but never imagined we would hear discussed in such detail. Through it all there is a serious point to be made, his sexual tastes having been dissected and scrutinised in court and demonised by the press, he feels entitled to explain their origins.

Once school (and a tantalisingly brief university career) is out of the way, the book moves on to King’s years as a celebrity and it is here that the rollercoaster ride truly begins. All too conveniently forgotten is the fact that Jonathan King over a 35 year period found himself at the heart of popular culture whether it was through making his own records, discovering and signing acts such as The Bay City Rollers, Genesis and 10cc, presenting on television and radio or rescuing both the Brit awards and the Eurovision Song Contest from the doldrums he has not only been there, done that and worn the t-shirt but as it turns out the branded clothing was his idea in the first place.

There are no bold claims made here - just about everything you have reason to doubt is backed up with press clippings and memorabilia. Throughout the narrative is peppered with appearances by the great and the good of the music and entertainment business with the odd scandalous revelation along the way. Some are anonymous, some are not, King careful to note the privacy of those still alive to regret their past behaviours. That said I am sure the world is a better place for knowing it was George Harrison who punched one particularly abusive fan in the face when she turned up on his doorstep and thus made himself a hero amongst the other celebrities of the time who had taken the full brunt of her fury and as a man who found himself falling in love with Sandie Shaw in the 1960s, Jonathan King is certainly far from unique. Even taken on its own as a set of celebrity memoirs, this section of the book would make for a truly essential publication in its own right.

The most astonishing revelations of all are held back for the final chapters of “65”, recounting as they do the events from the day in November 2000 when the police knocked on King’s door and announced they were investigating allegations of sexual assault. What follows is an account of the investigation, the subsequent trial, King’s conviction and imprisonment and his subsequent release and the ongoing battle to clear his name. Along the way there are breathtaking tales of police incompetence, coaching of witnesses and the British legal system’s own cavalier disregard for some of the principles of natural justice even the most naive observer would assume to be taken as read. Throughout the tale there isn’t a single moment of self pity by the author - he is at pains to point out that throughout his youth both he and his friends engaged in activities which were technically illegal back then - but you cannot help but share his frustration at the way his life and reputation were disrupted by the allegations of an fantasist, allegations which in turn prompted other glory seekers to emerge from the woodwork and spin their own tales of “abuse” in the hope of a compensatory payoff. The book even has its own Shawshank Redemption moment when a witness comes forward with a testimony to prove that the allegations against King were all false, only to withdraw co-operation when the time came to swear a statement.

This isn’t an impartial book review, nor is it intended to be. Jonathan King is a man I’m very privileged to be able to regard as a valued contact and a friend. Even friends can be critics of each other’s work, and “65 - My Life So Far” ranks alongside works by Bob Monkhouse and Frank Skinner as one of the most essential autobiographies I have ever read.
Naturally you will struggle to find it in bookshops, although I often amuse myself by asking for it anyway and berating the assistants when they confess they don’t have it in stock (when I’m not taking 9/11 conspiracy books and helpfully re-filing them under Fiction naturally). Order it directly from Amazon instead and treat yourself to a true tale of a life well lived and a story that finally deserves to be told.

Oh, and if you are still disturbed by the notion of appreciating the work of a convicted sex offender, consider my own favourite quote from the book, uttered in King’s London apartment by Jimi Hendrix as he contemplated his oozing and infected genitalia:
“Christ, she can’t have been more than 14 years old! What is the matter with fans these days?”
Bill Wyman would be proud of him.

I've now read it and agree with every word of the review.

I did order it but a friend took delivery of it and became so engrossed in it he wont send it to me until he's finished. He has said it is the best autobiography he's ever read thus far, and he's a massive reader...he's read them all. And dare I say he was never a huge JK fan, but I believe he will be now.

It arrived !..finally. Will take my time reading it.

A well written and intelligent review. The Daily Mail should take note. I like that it's written by someone really into music (the review I mean)

Interesting as it mentions Skinner & Monkhouse,read 'em both,good books,but not in the same class.I really don't know anyone so 'at the heart' of popular culture as JK,even Ron wood's great book didn't come close.

I'm still taking my time,perhaps holding back for the next boring train journey.But grateful the media haven't leaked the best bits.At least this way the surprises are waiting to be discovered.

Updated link.

blog.masterton.co.uk/2010/01/king-of-books.html

Just had lunch with Virginia Ironside who loved the book (and future Oscar winner Lynn Barber who hasn't read it yet) - also a lovely e-m from Tom Brook who ordered it via Amazon, read it cover to cover in two days, and adored it.