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All the Madmen: Barrett, Bowie, Drake, the Floyd, the Kinks, the Who and the Journey to the Dark Side of English Rock
Book Description After the Summer of Love - how English Rock lost itself, went mad, and produced some of the finest music. Product Description By the end of 1968 The Beatles were far too busy squabbling with each other, while The Stones had simply stopped making music; English Rock was coming to an end. All the Mad Men tells the story of six stars that travelled to edge of sanity in the years following the summer of Pete Townshend, Ray Davies, Peter Green, Syd Barrett, Nick Drake, and David Bowie. The book charts how they made some of the most seminal rock music ever Pink Moon; Ziggy Stardust; Quadrophenia; Dark Side of the Moon; Muswell Hillbillies - and how some of them could not make it back from the brink. The extraordinary story of how English Rock went mad and found itself About the Author Clinton Heylin is one of the leading rock journalists in the world. He is the author of the definitive biography of Bob Dylan as well as the two volume history of his songs Revolution in the Air and Still on the Road. He has also written on all aspects of the history of rock from The Beatles to the Velvet Underground.
404 pages, Hardcover
First published February 1, 2012
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 34 reviews
December 29, 2014
Great idea; shame about the writer.
All The Madmen is billed as an exploration of the influence of mental illness - and to a lesser extent, drugs - on the British music scene c.1968-75. Though in practice, what we get is an entwined biography of the musicians mentioned in the sub-title, with an emphasis on nervous breakdowns, plus a few digressions about R.D. Laing and a couple of short chapters on the history of madness in England at the end.
As he's a very experienced rock biographer, I would tend to assume that Clinton Heylin has mostly got his facts right, and so I did learn a bit from this book. (And also spent longer reading about Fleetwood Mac and The Who than I ever thought I would in my life.) What I will mostly take away from it is the understanding that Ray Davies had his fair share of demons, which wasn't terribly obvious from the lovely pop tunes of The Kinks; how serious and frightening Nick Drake's near-catatonic depressive state evidently was, when you read about it as an adult, not a naive 15-year-old with a stack of music papers; and what a bastard Roger Waters was. According to some, still is. I'd long found the classic 70's Pink Floyd albums to be rather chilly, detached and alien; and knowing that their guiding force was this cold-blooded, unempathic, exploitative man, it seems to make so much sense now. *shiver*
Heylin drives the narrative like a competent Mojo reporter. Or "journo"; his overuse of the latter word set my teeth on edge. He enjoys his alliterative stylistic flourishes, but half the time they turn into pratfalls. I cringed plenty of times, in the same way as I often do in looking at a review or blog post I wrote a few days earlier; it sounded potentially clever at the time, but it's actually just bad and embarrassing and needs to be edited. Given the number of typos in the book, style isn't the only thing which could have done with better subbing.
He clearly likes the music itself, but doesn't have a lot of praise for many of the people involved, which makes for an uninspiring read; surely a book like this should fill you with fascination and enthusiasm. There's quite a bit of subtle denigration of the states musicians got themselves into with drugs, for the ways their mental health issues made them a bit annoying. He too-rarely looks into what they were suffering and why, whether it's from an emotional point of view - or the reductive pathologising stance; but perhaps we should be glad he doesn't dehumanise his subjects further by labelling.
I know a few people who are passionate and knowledgeable both about the music of this era and about mental health. I expected to be recommending this book to them, but I shan't embarrass myself or bore them because they are better writers than Heylin and would have a wiser and more sympathetic approach to the psychological topics.
Rightly or wrongly, I get a whiff of stale-bedsheets laziness about this book. It's like the reasonably competent end-of-term essay dashed off overnight for a low 2:1 when more effort - or simply a different student - could have produced something of far higher, shinier quality. So frustrating because there must be people out there who could write an amazing book about this. Heylin seems to rest on the laurels of his classic rock knowledge whilst not doing anywhere enough research and thinking about psychology and mental health. He probably thought this was a clever idea for a twentieth book to churn out to his publishers, without it being a topic for which he feels deep affinity.
His brief history of madness in England alludes repeatedly to an archaic idea (mooted especially in the eighteenth century) that "too much" political liberty leads to a greater incidence of mental health problems in the population. In implying we should be glad to have put the libertine excesses of the 60's and early 70's behind us - also stopping off to criticise the excesses of punk - and that drugs were too freely available and destroyed or impeded a lot of talented musicians, he seems to be essentially agreeing with this ancient thesis without thorough and sensible discussion. Whilst I have a bit of a libertarian slant politically, I am definitely no fan of drugs on a personal level and have seen how they can mess up great people; I don't think you should write a 400 page book on a topic like this and conclude it without nuance and qualification though. Rock, as it ages, too often seems to become conservative and almost opposed to its spirit of origin, and the author of this book seems to be a case in point. More sympathetic understanding of human complexity is needed here; it shouldn't have been just another mildly snarky rock bio.
All The Madmen is billed as an exploration of the influence of mental illness - and to a lesser extent, drugs - on the British music scene c.1968-75. Though in practice, what we get is an entwined biography of the musicians mentioned in the sub-title, with an emphasis on nervous breakdowns, plus a few digressions about R.D. Laing and a couple of short chapters on the history of madness in England at the end.
As he's a very experienced rock biographer, I would tend to assume that Clinton Heylin has mostly got his facts right, and so I did learn a bit from this book. (And also spent longer reading about Fleetwood Mac and The Who than I ever thought I would in my life.) What I will mostly take away from it is the understanding that Ray Davies had his fair share of demons, which wasn't terribly obvious from the lovely pop tunes of The Kinks; how serious and frightening Nick Drake's near-catatonic depressive state evidently was, when you read about it as an adult, not a naive 15-year-old with a stack of music papers; and what a bastard Roger Waters was. According to some, still is. I'd long found the classic 70's Pink Floyd albums to be rather chilly, detached and alien; and knowing that their guiding force was this cold-blooded, unempathic, exploitative man, it seems to make so much sense now. *shiver*
Heylin drives the narrative like a competent Mojo reporter. Or "journo"; his overuse of the latter word set my teeth on edge. He enjoys his alliterative stylistic flourishes, but half the time they turn into pratfalls. I cringed plenty of times, in the same way as I often do in looking at a review or blog post I wrote a few days earlier; it sounded potentially clever at the time, but it's actually just bad and embarrassing and needs to be edited. Given the number of typos in the book, style isn't the only thing which could have done with better subbing.
He clearly likes the music itself, but doesn't have a lot of praise for many of the people involved, which makes for an uninspiring read; surely a book like this should fill you with fascination and enthusiasm. There's quite a bit of subtle denigration of the states musicians got themselves into with drugs, for the ways their mental health issues made them a bit annoying. He too-rarely looks into what they were suffering and why, whether it's from an emotional point of view - or the reductive pathologising stance; but perhaps we should be glad he doesn't dehumanise his subjects further by labelling.
I know a few people who are passionate and knowledgeable both about the music of this era and about mental health. I expected to be recommending this book to them, but I shan't embarrass myself or bore them because they are better writers than Heylin and would have a wiser and more sympathetic approach to the psychological topics.
Rightly or wrongly, I get a whiff of stale-bedsheets laziness about this book. It's like the reasonably competent end-of-term essay dashed off overnight for a low 2:1 when more effort - or simply a different student - could have produced something of far higher, shinier quality. So frustrating because there must be people out there who could write an amazing book about this. Heylin seems to rest on the laurels of his classic rock knowledge whilst not doing anywhere enough research and thinking about psychology and mental health. He probably thought this was a clever idea for a twentieth book to churn out to his publishers, without it being a topic for which he feels deep affinity.
His brief history of madness in England alludes repeatedly to an archaic idea (mooted especially in the eighteenth century) that "too much" political liberty leads to a greater incidence of mental health problems in the population. In implying we should be glad to have put the libertine excesses of the 60's and early 70's behind us - also stopping off to criticise the excesses of punk - and that drugs were too freely available and destroyed or impeded a lot of talented musicians, he seems to be essentially agreeing with this ancient thesis without thorough and sensible discussion. Whilst I have a bit of a libertarian slant politically, I am definitely no fan of drugs on a personal level and have seen how they can mess up great people; I don't think you should write a 400 page book on a topic like this and conclude it without nuance and qualification though. Rock, as it ages, too often seems to become conservative and almost opposed to its spirit of origin, and the author of this book seems to be a case in point. More sympathetic understanding of human complexity is needed here; it shouldn't have been just another mildly snarky rock bio.
January 22, 2014
Well, I finished it in the end. Which, as it happens, is pretty much what Clinton Heylin did; there's a curiously arbitrary point at which the narrative stops, and it's tempting to wonder if he, like me, had more or less lost interest in the project after a few hundred pages. I expect subscribers to the "rock's rich tapestry" school of music journalism will chew each paragraph carefully, digesting chapter after stolid chapter of recording-studio gossip, archival cut-n-paste and reminiscences of the author's favourite bootlegs. Fans of the personages covered will probably come across a few snippets of info they never knew, or had forgotten years ago. Still, it's a shame the way a book about half-a-dozen unique talents in popular music can end up being so - there's no other word for it, I'm afraid - dreary. We have to lay the blame at Heylin's door; long on triv and short on insight, his prose is set squarely in that fusty old music-journo idiom that already seemed passé in the 70s. You know, the sort of writing where song-titles get worked into the text like arch little in-jokes: "Though all seemed hunky dory for a lad insane, soon he would be back among all the madmen..." etc, etc, etc. I can't tell you how irritating that sort of thing gets after a chapter or two.
February 7, 2022
Probably a 2.5 but not great. Heylin seems to definitely prefer some acts over others, personally and artistically, and it just starts to wear pretty hard by the end of the book. It's a meh.
April 23, 2016
Rock ‘n’ roll is supposed to be a little insane. Those of us who enjoy reading about the history of rock ‘n’ roll from the 1950’s to today, are well versed in the crazy antics of its practioners – stories of crazed insanity that too many of us use to define the rock ‘n’ roll spirit and dream. Who hasn’t heard stories of The Who’s drummer, Keith Moon, also known as Moon the Loon? From destroying hotel rooms to driving a car into a hotel pool, his antics are legendary, but then again, he was also a troubled man, who accidentally drove over a friend of his, and died young, based on his lifestyle. As he read about the craziness, we very rarely consider whether sanity or insanity truly existed within these individuals. Clinton Heylin’s All the Madmen, explores just that, the mental crisis’s of some of the greats during the late 1960’s and early 1970’s.
All The Madmen focuses on the careers of Pink Floyd, specifically its troubled founder Syd Barrett, who walked away from the band, a shell of the man he used to be; Peter Green, a founder of Fleetwood Mac, who couldn’t handle the fame; Pete Townshend of The Who, whose creative drive drove him to alcoholism; David Bowie, whose family suffered from schizophrenia, his half-brother Terry being institutionalized for it; Ray Davies of The Kinks, who was definitely fighting inner demons, and the doomed Nick Drake, who despite being considered a genius, retreated into himself and an early death.
In mining the mental health of his subjects, Heylin focuses on a psychiatrist at the time, one who nearly treated Barrett, and who had bizarre ideas regarding mental health and LSD; while drugs no doubt played a part in many of these celebrities troubles, each possessed their own inner demons long before the drugs took hold. In All the Madmen, Heylin takes us on a fascinating journey, looking at that time in rock history from a fresh and interesting perspective. He provides insights that other books on the time fail to realize, probably because they were less inclined to explore the true mental realities of these rock ‘n’ roll heroes.
I was particularly fascinated by the stories of Syd Barrett, the original creative heart behind Pink Floyd, who just walked away from his band, and despite trying to start a solo career, just couldn’t function enough to do so. The same could be said of Nick Drake, a name I’d heard, but didn’t really know a lot about. Like Barrett, he slowly disappeared into himself, even getting to the point that when recording he couldn’t even find the ability to communicate with the sound engineer helping him. His is a tragic tale. By reading All the Madmen, I was encourage to look up and listen to the solo work of Syd Barrett, and the few albums Drake made, and found them quite appealing, especially Drake’s soulful, deep voice – definitely a benefit to picking up this book.
The others covered were also insightful, although in reading All the Madmen one can’t help determining that Heylin is not a David Bowie fan. While everyone is given quite a bit of leeway, the late David Bowie (he passed away this past January) is often criticized, the author feeling he used his family’s schizophrenia to his advantage as a performer and rock ‘n’ roll star. While those of us who are fans think of Bowie today as a confident rocker in control of his talent, we forget there was a time when Bowie was trying to find himself as a performer and failure was as much a possibility as his eventual success.
All the Madmen was a great read, both for those looking to read about that period in rock ‘n’ roll and those who have read a lot and are looking for a different approach in exploring that time. I know I must have been really enjoying it, as I was a little disappointed when I realized I’d reached the final chapter and knew my journey into these creative genius’s lives was coming to an end. Definitely a MUST read for those interested in rock ‘n’ roll.
All The Madmen focuses on the careers of Pink Floyd, specifically its troubled founder Syd Barrett, who walked away from the band, a shell of the man he used to be; Peter Green, a founder of Fleetwood Mac, who couldn’t handle the fame; Pete Townshend of The Who, whose creative drive drove him to alcoholism; David Bowie, whose family suffered from schizophrenia, his half-brother Terry being institutionalized for it; Ray Davies of The Kinks, who was definitely fighting inner demons, and the doomed Nick Drake, who despite being considered a genius, retreated into himself and an early death.
In mining the mental health of his subjects, Heylin focuses on a psychiatrist at the time, one who nearly treated Barrett, and who had bizarre ideas regarding mental health and LSD; while drugs no doubt played a part in many of these celebrities troubles, each possessed their own inner demons long before the drugs took hold. In All the Madmen, Heylin takes us on a fascinating journey, looking at that time in rock history from a fresh and interesting perspective. He provides insights that other books on the time fail to realize, probably because they were less inclined to explore the true mental realities of these rock ‘n’ roll heroes.
I was particularly fascinated by the stories of Syd Barrett, the original creative heart behind Pink Floyd, who just walked away from his band, and despite trying to start a solo career, just couldn’t function enough to do so. The same could be said of Nick Drake, a name I’d heard, but didn’t really know a lot about. Like Barrett, he slowly disappeared into himself, even getting to the point that when recording he couldn’t even find the ability to communicate with the sound engineer helping him. His is a tragic tale. By reading All the Madmen, I was encourage to look up and listen to the solo work of Syd Barrett, and the few albums Drake made, and found them quite appealing, especially Drake’s soulful, deep voice – definitely a benefit to picking up this book.
The others covered were also insightful, although in reading All the Madmen one can’t help determining that Heylin is not a David Bowie fan. While everyone is given quite a bit of leeway, the late David Bowie (he passed away this past January) is often criticized, the author feeling he used his family’s schizophrenia to his advantage as a performer and rock ‘n’ roll star. While those of us who are fans think of Bowie today as a confident rocker in control of his talent, we forget there was a time when Bowie was trying to find himself as a performer and failure was as much a possibility as his eventual success.
All the Madmen was a great read, both for those looking to read about that period in rock ‘n’ roll and those who have read a lot and are looking for a different approach in exploring that time. I know I must have been really enjoying it, as I was a little disappointed when I realized I’d reached the final chapter and knew my journey into these creative genius’s lives was coming to an end. Definitely a MUST read for those interested in rock ‘n’ roll.
May 20, 2017
How much were the classic rock albums from the 1960's and 1970's based on the composers flirtation with 'madness', drug-induced or not?
Heylin is, as ever, highly opinionated but this makes you love (or hate) his books. All the recognised casualties of British rock are present and (in)correct.
The narrative flows on a chronological basis headed by an introductory chapter on some of the more left-field psychiatric thoughts of the 1970's, and tailed by an Appendix which places the book's themes in a wider, historical context.
Heylin is, as ever, highly opinionated but this makes you love (or hate) his books. All the recognised casualties of British rock are present and (in)correct.
The narrative flows on a chronological basis headed by an introductory chapter on some of the more left-field psychiatric thoughts of the 1970's, and tailed by an Appendix which places the book's themes in a wider, historical context.
January 20, 2013
Reads like he phoned in half of this book - or a conversation with someone in the pub telling you about people with mental problems in British rock. Not many fresh insights and I'm not really sure what point he's getting at with putting this together. Don't suppose there is one, other than making a few quid. Still, in its defence it provided some Mojo-esque distraction for a few hours.
June 11, 2025
If you are a certain age and live in the US, you will be familiar with the unintendedly hilarious figure that is the D.A.R.E. resource officer.
Here he is, waddling past teachers a fraction of his age and forcing his 300 pound frame through the crowds of children that have the temerity, every single day, of not recognizing his divine authority and clearing him the path that is rightfully his.
"These little criminals -in-training, with their unruly hair and stupid clothes... I try to set an example, but I don't see a single crew cut in this lot nor a single pressed pair of pants. When I was 13 in 1943, you could cut your hand on my pant seams...But these kids... I mean, Blue Jeans, really? In school? No respect. Bet they go to church on Sundays dressed like that too. But by God, I'll teach them... But how?
I know, I'll write a tome! A tome about that most villainous of people, rock musicians! After all, all these kids can't wait to read a book, right? And they all love that rock and/or roll. Why, if I can just tell them all about the horrors of LSD, the ruination that befalls all smokers of that devil "weed" (which I will make sure to put in quotations when I write it, in a book published in 2012, so you know how bad this strange thing you have never heard of really is!), and how these evil drugs and all the other things I disapprove of destroyed all the bands of the '60's! Then they will all respect me!"
If you wanted to know what this D.A.R.E. officer would have actually written about bands people too young for their AARP card will never even have heard of (except Bowie, who had to be mentioned so the author could steal his lyrics and debase them into a lame title), this book provides all the oblivious humor you could ever hope for. Although even this minor joy dies by the end of the third or fourth chapter. Just awful writing by a shockingly scolding author. The book cover and descriptions are completely shameless in making you think you are getting something completely different to what you actually get. One of the worse examples of misleading cover copy I've come across in a long while. The only thing this terrible book is missing from your average Sunday School lesson is a few dozen Jesus references and Bible quotes. Maybe he gets there in the end, I had to give up before I made it to the halfway mark.
One positive note, given the complete and un-alloyed hatred the author had for two fairly obscure psychologists (Laing, Foucault) early on, I'm going to take that as a clear recommendation of who to read the next time I'm in a psychology mood. If this author hates them that much, they must be pretty good.
Here he is, waddling past teachers a fraction of his age and forcing his 300 pound frame through the crowds of children that have the temerity, every single day, of not recognizing his divine authority and clearing him the path that is rightfully his.
"These little criminals -in-training, with their unruly hair and stupid clothes... I try to set an example, but I don't see a single crew cut in this lot nor a single pressed pair of pants. When I was 13 in 1943, you could cut your hand on my pant seams...But these kids... I mean, Blue Jeans, really? In school? No respect. Bet they go to church on Sundays dressed like that too. But by God, I'll teach them... But how?
I know, I'll write a tome! A tome about that most villainous of people, rock musicians! After all, all these kids can't wait to read a book, right? And they all love that rock and/or roll. Why, if I can just tell them all about the horrors of LSD, the ruination that befalls all smokers of that devil "weed" (which I will make sure to put in quotations when I write it, in a book published in 2012, so you know how bad this strange thing you have never heard of really is!), and how these evil drugs and all the other things I disapprove of destroyed all the bands of the '60's! Then they will all respect me!"
If you wanted to know what this D.A.R.E. officer would have actually written about bands people too young for their AARP card will never even have heard of (except Bowie, who had to be mentioned so the author could steal his lyrics and debase them into a lame title), this book provides all the oblivious humor you could ever hope for. Although even this minor joy dies by the end of the third or fourth chapter. Just awful writing by a shockingly scolding author. The book cover and descriptions are completely shameless in making you think you are getting something completely different to what you actually get. One of the worse examples of misleading cover copy I've come across in a long while. The only thing this terrible book is missing from your average Sunday School lesson is a few dozen Jesus references and Bible quotes. Maybe he gets there in the end, I had to give up before I made it to the halfway mark.
One positive note, given the complete and un-alloyed hatred the author had for two fairly obscure psychologists (Laing, Foucault) early on, I'm going to take that as a clear recommendation of who to read the next time I'm in a psychology mood. If this author hates them that much, they must be pretty good.
December 23, 2022
I really liked for the insights into The Who.
I have always hated Dark Side of the Moon.
I am anti-marijuana and anti-LSD/STP/Mescalin/etc...
Nick Drake leaves me cold.
The Kinks are/were a bore.
A study of the a very English malady should have included more on the insane John Lennon, or Jimmy Page loving the Satanism, or even Eric Clapton loving his addictions. Elton John was the madman at the time. Left him out, why? And, a quick nod to Comus, but nothing about how incredibly insane their music is?
I think the author's sample pool was too small and he was pulling his punches.
Even citing The Complex, https://www.complex.com/music/2013/02...
Interviews published in Playboy and Rolling Stone depicted Bowie surrounding himself with burning black candles and Egyptian artifacts and believing that bodies were floating past his window, witches were stealing his semen and that the Rolling Stones were sending him secret messages. He lived in fear of Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page, owing to his supposed practice of witchcraft.
Interesting ancillary read on English Rock History. Not a main read.
Bonus points for connecting the three demonic pillars of R.D.Laing, Foucault and the Tavistock Institute.
I have always hated Dark Side of the Moon.
I am anti-marijuana and anti-LSD/STP/Mescalin/etc...
Nick Drake leaves me cold.
The Kinks are/were a bore.
A study of the a very English malady should have included more on the insane John Lennon, or Jimmy Page loving the Satanism, or even Eric Clapton loving his addictions. Elton John was the madman at the time. Left him out, why? And, a quick nod to Comus, but nothing about how incredibly insane their music is?
I think the author's sample pool was too small and he was pulling his punches.
Even citing The Complex, https://www.complex.com/music/2013/02...
Interviews published in Playboy and Rolling Stone depicted Bowie surrounding himself with burning black candles and Egyptian artifacts and believing that bodies were floating past his window, witches were stealing his semen and that the Rolling Stones were sending him secret messages. He lived in fear of Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page, owing to his supposed practice of witchcraft.
Interesting ancillary read on English Rock History. Not a main read.
Bonus points for connecting the three demonic pillars of R.D.Laing, Foucault and the Tavistock Institute.
February 27, 2025
This is not so much an overview of late 60s early 70s English rock as it is an overview of how nervous breakdowns and schizophrenia prevailed among its practitioners. Although not mentioned in the title, Fleetwood Mac's Peter Green's mental descent is also noted with as much detail. There are passing references to Marc Bolan, the Move, Richard Thompson and a few others but I guess they were too well-adjusted to warrant more space. While substance abuse is a prominent commonality in their mental deterioration, each of these artists have unique creative struggles that I find most interesting. In many cases, it's the constant competition with their past achievements that seems to fuel their anxieties and of course, as soon as they are successful, those accomplishments instantly become part of what they compete against. Did Frank Sinatra have this problem? I always enjoy Heylin's well researched books, his fearlessly expressed opinions and how I always manage to learn something new.
May 23, 2017
I spotted this in the library. I have read quite a few musician biographies.
I found this book rather annoying in the very idea it poses. That creativity and inventiveness are close neighbours to eccentricity and silly behaviour is hardly news. That wealthy superstars are over-indulged with too much down-time to fill is familiar ground. Is it jolly-japes or stupidity?
This short quote sums up the whole... "In the period 1974-78, Keith Moon, David Bowie, Marc Bolan, Peter Green and John Lennon would all temporarily relocate to la-la-land. For Moon the Loon, the life of the rock star was just too enticing a substitute for real life, and he had soon returned to his manic ways." ad nauseum (Page 284)
Most unsatisfactory.
I found this book rather annoying in the very idea it poses. That creativity and inventiveness are close neighbours to eccentricity and silly behaviour is hardly news. That wealthy superstars are over-indulged with too much down-time to fill is familiar ground. Is it jolly-japes or stupidity?
This short quote sums up the whole... "In the period 1974-78, Keith Moon, David Bowie, Marc Bolan, Peter Green and John Lennon would all temporarily relocate to la-la-land. For Moon the Loon, the life of the rock star was just too enticing a substitute for real life, and he had soon returned to his manic ways." ad nauseum (Page 284)
Most unsatisfactory.
July 18, 2018
The madness of great rock albums
The ever erudite and immensely readable Clinton Heylin takes us through the dark side of ambitious English Rock that lasted many moons from Arnold Layne to Station to Station as the focus of creativity moved from singles to concept albums. If you are interested in the how the more interesting threads were woven into rocks great tapestry as it developed from 1966 to 1976 this is a great read. If you don't know the key works of Ray Davies, Pete Townshend, Syd Barrett (and Pink Floyd), Nick Drake and David Bowie this might be somewhat arcane. Great discography and reference section and well contextualised in English cultural history.
The ever erudite and immensely readable Clinton Heylin takes us through the dark side of ambitious English Rock that lasted many moons from Arnold Layne to Station to Station as the focus of creativity moved from singles to concept albums. If you are interested in the how the more interesting threads were woven into rocks great tapestry as it developed from 1966 to 1976 this is a great read. If you don't know the key works of Ray Davies, Pete Townshend, Syd Barrett (and Pink Floyd), Nick Drake and David Bowie this might be somewhat arcane. Great discography and reference section and well contextualised in English cultural history.
June 1, 2024
I'm interested in 60's and 70's music, which initially attracted me to this book.
It proved to be an interesting, well researched read that was often sad in its content as it described the dying of their light and ultimate disinterest and inability to make music, of several influential musicians following the creativity of their early years. The cause in each case was excessive drug or alcohol use, which had a devastating effect on their lives.
It proved to be an interesting, well researched read that was often sad in its content as it described the dying of their light and ultimate disinterest and inability to make music, of several influential musicians following the creativity of their early years. The cause in each case was excessive drug or alcohol use, which had a devastating effect on their lives.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
August 5, 2019
Interesting topic, terrible execution. Written so perfunctorily that I was unable to finish the book. Sloppy, full of typos, there’s a bibliography but quotes aren’t cited or footnoted in the text...anyone thinking about reading this book would be better off finding books on the individual artists covered by it and reading those instead.
March 15, 2025
I read this to learn more about two of the musicians - David Bowie and Syd Barrett. Overall well researched and some of the musicians were new to me. Honestly, aside from the two I was interested in the others did not hold my interest - I even made effort to listen to the songs that the author mentions by these artists. Worth my time but I was happy to finish this book.
January 8, 2018
A fascinating insight in to the ups and downs of many bands and singers and how that affected them mentally.
Particularly enjoyed the sections regarding David Bowie, The Kinks and The Who.
Particularly enjoyed the sections regarding David Bowie, The Kinks and The Who.
November 5, 2019
Interesting subject matter, but told in quite a cold academic manner.
December 28, 2019
Tooooo textbooky. Lacked the kind of writing that pulls you in. I felt like was reading to get ready for a future exam
January 20, 2020
A good read about late 60s early 70s rock interesting book.
October 1, 2020
3.5 stars. A little too “intellectual” to be as interesting as it ought to be.
December 18, 2024
And mad they all were.
Well written and does contain background tales that formulates madness can be a form of genius.
Easy and quite an enjoyable read.
Well written and does contain background tales that formulates madness can be a form of genius.
Easy and quite an enjoyable read.
January 21, 2014
This was a fascinating book to read even though it seemed to peter out at the end as if the author wasn’t quite sure where to go next.
The book’s title comes from a pre-Ziggy song and Heylin’s book is about British rock’s fascination with mental illness and it was often created by those who suffered from it. This was one of rock’s more interesting phases and the book covers the period 1967-75.
Heylin also explores the use of drugs such as LSD and cannabis and the negative effects it can have on more fragile psyches. For example, Peter Green founder of Fleetwood Mac and Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd who may have had underlying mental problems which the use of LSD may have brought out. There was also the anti-psychiatry movement headed by R D Laing and the promotion of LSD as an aid to creativity.
The author covers talents such as Ray Davies of the Kinks of whom I was unaware of having such problems, Nick Drake’s short life, Vincent Crane of Atomic Rooster and the influences of tragic rock and roll icon, Vince Taylor, and David Bowie’s schizophrenic half-brother, Terry.
This fascination with the dark side of creativity produced some of the classics of the era such as Dark Side of the Moon and The Man Who Sold the World but also some less classic works and others that haven’t work so well.
Heylin’s research is thorough which is what makes this book such an entertaining read. However, he gives short shrift to David Bowie who he appears to characterise as a man forever haunted by his creation, Ziggy Stardust and his half brother and the Nick Drake’s career after his early death.
What made this inner exploration stop in its tracks was the coming of punk which beached many a career. R D Laing died at 61, an alcoholic who had been struck off by the General Medical Council and having renounced anti-psychiatry.
I think Heylin’s choice of musicians were the correct ones and maybe you could add a few extras but on the whole these were the artists with the more interesting back catalogue. In my opinion, Nick Drake’s career really took off after his death even though the use of his track Pink Moon to sell VW cars may not be to everyone’s taste. He also discusses the nature of madness, how it interacts with creativity and how destructive and constructive it can be. Studies have been done in which it’s allegedly proved that creative people are more prone to neurosis than the rest of us.
A stimulating book which could make you dig out your old albums and reappraise them again.
The book’s title comes from a pre-Ziggy song and Heylin’s book is about British rock’s fascination with mental illness and it was often created by those who suffered from it. This was one of rock’s more interesting phases and the book covers the period 1967-75.
Heylin also explores the use of drugs such as LSD and cannabis and the negative effects it can have on more fragile psyches. For example, Peter Green founder of Fleetwood Mac and Syd Barrett of Pink Floyd who may have had underlying mental problems which the use of LSD may have brought out. There was also the anti-psychiatry movement headed by R D Laing and the promotion of LSD as an aid to creativity.
The author covers talents such as Ray Davies of the Kinks of whom I was unaware of having such problems, Nick Drake’s short life, Vincent Crane of Atomic Rooster and the influences of tragic rock and roll icon, Vince Taylor, and David Bowie’s schizophrenic half-brother, Terry.
This fascination with the dark side of creativity produced some of the classics of the era such as Dark Side of the Moon and The Man Who Sold the World but also some less classic works and others that haven’t work so well.
Heylin’s research is thorough which is what makes this book such an entertaining read. However, he gives short shrift to David Bowie who he appears to characterise as a man forever haunted by his creation, Ziggy Stardust and his half brother and the Nick Drake’s career after his early death.
What made this inner exploration stop in its tracks was the coming of punk which beached many a career. R D Laing died at 61, an alcoholic who had been struck off by the General Medical Council and having renounced anti-psychiatry.
I think Heylin’s choice of musicians were the correct ones and maybe you could add a few extras but on the whole these were the artists with the more interesting back catalogue. In my opinion, Nick Drake’s career really took off after his death even though the use of his track Pink Moon to sell VW cars may not be to everyone’s taste. He also discusses the nature of madness, how it interacts with creativity and how destructive and constructive it can be. Studies have been done in which it’s allegedly proved that creative people are more prone to neurosis than the rest of us.
A stimulating book which could make you dig out your old albums and reappraise them again.
January 4, 2016
An interesting read. Clinton Heylin discusses a number of sixties artists and their struggle with mental illness (often worsened through drug use), which basically works as a brief, if slightly subjective, description of their personal lives and musical careers from 1968 on, using sanity as a thematic thread throughout. Subjects include Syd Barrett, Pete Townshend, Nick Drake, Peter Green, Ray Davies and David Bowie, among others.
Arbitrarily quitting his treatise in 1974 is slightly puzzling, trying to wrap everything up a bit too neatly in a "what happened next"-type postscript - even if some of the artists' stories did indeed grind to a (tragic) halt in the mid-seventies.
Clinton Heylin track record as a music biographer is extensive, utilizing a pleasant flow in his prose that's full of clever wordplays and a deeper level of intertextuality - although even though he certainly comes off as very knowledgeable in "All The Madmen", he is a bit too aware of that himself as well at times. He tends to get very dismissive of those whose actions he doesn't agree with, directing his ire in a surprising gloves-are-off fashion towards Bowie, Nick Drake's estate, other biographers and Gilmour/Waters that's jarring more often than it is entertaining.
Still, despite the sudden ending and slightly snobbish tone at times, this is still an entertaining and informative read.
Arbitrarily quitting his treatise in 1974 is slightly puzzling, trying to wrap everything up a bit too neatly in a "what happened next"-type postscript - even if some of the artists' stories did indeed grind to a (tragic) halt in the mid-seventies.
Clinton Heylin track record as a music biographer is extensive, utilizing a pleasant flow in his prose that's full of clever wordplays and a deeper level of intertextuality - although even though he certainly comes off as very knowledgeable in "All The Madmen", he is a bit too aware of that himself as well at times. He tends to get very dismissive of those whose actions he doesn't agree with, directing his ire in a surprising gloves-are-off fashion towards Bowie, Nick Drake's estate, other biographers and Gilmour/Waters that's jarring more often than it is entertaining.
Still, despite the sudden ending and slightly snobbish tone at times, this is still an entertaining and informative read.
June 10, 2014
Enjoyable if inessential
Having read many biographies of David Bowie; a Kinks biography; a Nick Drake biography; and numerous Mojo magazine articles on Pink Floyd, Syd Barrett, Peter Green, and The Who, I came to this book reasonably well informed about the artists under discussion.
Clinton Heylin links these artists in terms of their relationship with mental illness. It's a reasonable enough jumping off point for an exploration into their key works.
Clinton Heylin is opinionated and, whilst I didn't learn much new, I enjoyed some of his more outspoken views on some of the music not least his complete dismissal of pretty much everything Bowie produced from Diamond Dogs onwards.
The book inspired me to listen to a few tunes I'd not properly listened to before, particularly some by Syd Barrett and The Who.
Overall it's inessential, but enjoyable enough, particularly if you like David Bowie, Nick Drake, Syd Barrett, The Kinks and early Fleetwood Mac.
Having read many biographies of David Bowie; a Kinks biography; a Nick Drake biography; and numerous Mojo magazine articles on Pink Floyd, Syd Barrett, Peter Green, and The Who, I came to this book reasonably well informed about the artists under discussion.
Clinton Heylin links these artists in terms of their relationship with mental illness. It's a reasonable enough jumping off point for an exploration into their key works.
Clinton Heylin is opinionated and, whilst I didn't learn much new, I enjoyed some of his more outspoken views on some of the music not least his complete dismissal of pretty much everything Bowie produced from Diamond Dogs onwards.
The book inspired me to listen to a few tunes I'd not properly listened to before, particularly some by Syd Barrett and The Who.
Overall it's inessential, but enjoyable enough, particularly if you like David Bowie, Nick Drake, Syd Barrett, The Kinks and early Fleetwood Mac.
January 16, 2014
This was a idea in search of a book. Whilst it was an enjoyable read I got the impression that the author had come up with the idea and then struggled to find enough evidence to prove the thesis (basically that there were people out there producing good music with mental health issues). It's debatable that Bowies's 'madness' was anything other than an artistic pose, whilst other 'manic' behaviour seemed more self inflicted through drugs and drink (step forward Pete Townsend, Syd Barrett, Peter Green). I ended up having most sympathy for Nick Drake (obviously) and Ray Davies (perhaps more surprisingly). Some of the musicians thankfully, have emerged battered but unbowed on the other side, others are slowly emerging back to normality. Sadly in the case of Drake and Barrett they never came through. Enjoy the book for the insights but take the conclusions with a pinch of salt.
November 20, 2020
An interesting read that concentrates on the troubles and turmoils of some of the superbands of the 70’s including The Who, Pink Floyd, The Kinks, Fleetwood Mac and the crazy and sometime destructive lives of the like of David Bowie, Peter Green, Pete Townsend, Syd Barret, Ray Davis and Nick Drake.
It’s quite an intense read and a look into the working of the creative mind that both creates and destroys. For me the highlight of the book was re-introducing me to the music of Ray Davis and the Kinks.
It’s quite an intense read and a look into the working of the creative mind that both creates and destroys. For me the highlight of the book was re-introducing me to the music of Ray Davis and the Kinks.
January 8, 2014
A good read focussing on a few major figures of the late 60s / early 70s British rock fundament. Some familiar situations here, but charmingly the author doesn't hold back on his personal opinions. For example, Roger Waters doesn't exactly come out well here. But then, he rarely does.
I'm not sure I got any big insights from this book, but it was definitely worth reading. There's a little appendix on medieval "madness music" was actually pretty interesting.
I'm not sure I got any big insights from this book, but it was definitely worth reading. There's a little appendix on medieval "madness music" was actually pretty interesting.
January 11, 2025
With the Beatles and the stones off the road, And the ‘British invasion’ Grinding to a halt. Get the train back on the rails with a new wave of emerging thoughtful Progressives.
A more psychedelic infused sound of pink Floyd and David Bowie, With the eccentricity of Ray Davies and Pete Townsend’s ‘concept albums’
The pressing question for the people paying for all the studio time, Is it any good or mentally fragile drug induced self indulgence?
A more psychedelic infused sound of pink Floyd and David Bowie, With the eccentricity of Ray Davies and Pete Townsend’s ‘concept albums’
The pressing question for the people paying for all the studio time, Is it any good or mentally fragile drug induced self indulgence?
February 14, 2019
Anyone who has read Clinton would know that he is never short of an opinion and this sometimes can be a pain but his devotion to music and meticulous research always shines through his writing. He weaves this magic tale here through the late sixties and early seventies in UK rock with occasional side tracks across many decades and centuries and topics. Very enjoyable.
August 31, 2013
Rambles along concentrating on a few madmen. A sad little story. However some good music came out of it all.
A short appendix covers the history of mad artists in English history which is rather good. Would that this was expanded to book length!
thanks to City of London libraries
A short appendix covers the history of mad artists in English history which is rather good. Would that this was expanded to book length!
thanks to City of London libraries
October 27, 2015
An interesting tapestry exploring the inner, outer, musical and non-musical lives of mentally troubled souls from around 1968-1975. The musicians focused on are Ray Davies, Pete Townshend, Nick Drake, David Bowie and Syd Barrett.
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