"extremely entertaining"

'Great fun'

"A smashing book"

Tony Hawks' unique assault on the world of music

It's 1988 and radios across the land blast out the Top Ten hit 'Stutter Rap' by Morris Minor and the Majors. The man behind the fake moustache is Tony Hawks. Fast forward to the 21st century and those heady days of pop stardom are a distant memory. That is, until it is suggested that Tony is just another One Hit Wonder. Really? We'll have to see about that ...For two years Tony struggles to have a hit somewhere, anywhere, in the world, changing acts and styles with a bewildering lack of integrity. From Nashville to Amsterdam, from Eastern Europe to Africa, he travels the globe in search of that elusive hit. But it's only after a chance encounter with Norman Wisdom that things get really strange. Is it really possible that together they could storm the Albanian charts? In One Hit Wonderland anything can happen ...

Tony Hawks takes on the world of music? with unpredictable results.

TONY HAWKS lives in London. He leads a diverse life and has various 'jobs', such as performing stand up comedy, appearing as a panellist on TV and radio (Have I Got News For You, Just A Minute, I'm Sorry I Haven't A Clue), acting, writing, playing tennis, and making music.

'You don't have to do it,' said Victoria, from the end of the phone-line. 'It was only a bit of a fun. Drunken high spirits and all that.'
'No, I want to,' I said, keen to move the conversation on to a discussion about how we might go for a drink together soon. 'And by my reckoning, the terms of the bet should allow me enough time.'
'Well, one way or another, we'll know by the time I get back.'
'Get back?'
'Yes, I'm moving to New York for a couple of years so I can work with some of the songwriters over there.'
'Oh,' I said, hoping that my tone of voice hadn't revealed the deadening thud of disappointment which my heart had just felt. 'And when do you leave?'
'Thursday.'
'Oh. I see.'
'Good luck with the bet though.'
'Yes. Thanks.'
Curses.
As a teenager, like most of my peers, I had always pretty much hated country music. As far as I was concerned, it was sung by old people wearing silly hats who churned out tunes which all sounded the same, with lyrics that made you feel nauseous. I had this picture of it being the kind of music that was enjoyed by people who'd been bullied at school or - and I'm not sure how I ended up with such a specific category - by those who walked with severe limps as a result of injuries sustained in the workplace. Myself, I eschewed this musical genre because I was hip, and as a hip person I listened to Mud, Sweet and Suzi Quatro like all the other hip people at my school. I was happy with my musical tastes and I
didn't need anyone to come along and start meddling with them.
Consequently I was extremely concerned one day when I found myself inadvertently singing along with 'Blue Bayou' by Linda Rondstadt and then, only moments later, turning up the radio when Kenny Rogers started crooning about Ruby not taking her love to town. More worryingly still was that I was forced to admit to myself that I actively liked the song 'Sundown' by Gordon Lightfoot. What was happening to me? Had I gone soft? Of course at school I kept this information close to my chest whenever playground badinage turned to the subject of one's favourite songs of the day, and I would simply walk away if ever the conversation descended into a routine rubbishing of country music (although I did tend to stick around for discussions about the pros and cons of Dolly Parton, mainly because I had noticed that these very rarely focused on her melodic range or the timbre of her voice).
Only now do I understand what was happening to me all those years ago. I was beginning to appreciate lyrics. Somehow the pop songs of the day were failing to interest me on enough levels. I was becoming drawn to songs which could communicate an idea or arouse an emotion within me. Mud's classic 'Tiger Feet' was fine to jump around to excitedly, but it did little to stimulate any deeper thoughts.
That's neat, that's neat, that's neat, that's neat,
I really love those Tiger Feet
What exactly were 'Tiger Feet'? And why was the singer so keen on them? Trust me on this, a detailed study of the lyrics provides very few answers to these salient questions.
Country & Western music I discovered, however, offered a boldness in the lyrical department which defied belief. Kenny Rogers shamelessly sang about both Lucille and Ruby, two women who were leaving him, one despite two hungry children and a crop in the field, and the other because his legs (and presumably another valuable part of his anatomy) had been rendered inoperative by the Vietnam war. The contrast with Mud's song couldn't have been greater, unless of course Tiger Feet is actually a term to describe the injured feet of a war veteran, but somehow I doubt it.
Another reason why I was drawn to country music was because it didn't appear to take itself too seriously, unless of course its fans were simply too daft to recognise the comic nature of some of the songs its writers had produced over the years. Proof of this was contained in an email which a friend sent me, listing the following country titles which, believe it or not, were actually written and recorded:
'Drop Kick Me, Jesus, Through The Goalposts Of Life'
'I Fell In A Pile Of You And Got Love All Over Me'
'I Don't Know Whether To Kill Myself Or Go Bowling'
Subtle they may not be in their imagery, but almost every aspect of life is covered in these masterpieces - religion, love and death. I'm particularly fond of the doleful 'I Don't Know Whether To Kill Myself Or Go Bowling', a song which is not afraid to confront this everyday social dilemma. But the country music writers didn't leave it there. The list goes on:
'I Wanna Whip Your Cow'
'I'd Rather Have A Bottle In Front Of Me
Than A Frontal Lobotomy'
'If My Nose Were Full of Nickels, I'd Blow It All On You'
None of life's stones is left unturned by these intrepid lyricists. In these three titles we are forced to consider the vital issues of money, drink and animal flagellation. Some of us may be disturbed by the raw honesty of 'I Wanna Whip Your Cow', but isn't it a feeling that all of us have felt at some point or another? How much better to have the subject explored through music than for us to do what we do day after day when we see someone else with a cow - lapse into denial and in spite of our natural urges, pretend that we don't want to whip it.

2008-04-28 Enjoyable nonsense

The premise of this book is that Tony Hawks, lead singer of 80s one hit wonders 'Morris Minor and the Majors' accepts a wager that he'll never have another top ten hit in his lifetime. Fuelled by this, Mr Hawks goes in search of this elusive follow up in such diverse places as the USA, Africa, Holland and Albania, the latter with Sir Norman Wisdom's help...

It's an enjoyable read, Hawk's wit shines through and it raises a wry smile rather than a guffaw. It's very much one for a bedtime read.