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Dark Luminosity: Memoirs of a Geezer, the expanded edition
Written in his own unmistakable voice and with a new afterword by the author, this is the frank and fascinating memoir by arguably the greatest bass player of his generation. Beginning with an East End childhood in a London barely recovered from the War, he takes us on a journey through the beginnings of punk and post-punk as a founding member of Public Image Limited, an illustrious forty-year solo career which has seen collaborations musical greats such as U2, Brian Eno and CAN and a Mercury Music Prize nomination through to the present day still playing to sell out audiences. Along the way we hear how Wobble navigated chronic alcoholism and marital breakdown and has emerged as a national treasure. If you ever wondered how got his name, the answer is his teenage pal Sid Vicious gave it to him when he drunkenly slurred Wobble's real name, John Wardle.
448 pages, Paperback
Published May 14, 2024
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January 21, 2025
3.5 Stars!
“All the people I knew had a lot in common. They had all grown up in poky council flats, were brighter than average, and had a certain je ne sais quoi. There was a sense with all of us that we somehow wanted to escape the rather sedate destiny which had already been mapped out for us by square society. We were also far too sussed to believe anything trendy Hampstead intellectuals or hippies had to say.”
There’s a really interesting old BBC radio interview with Andy Kershaw and Wobble and Wobble comes across as incredibly affable and laid back – and of course I’m a fan of much of the man’s music, from PiL, the album he did with The Edge and that one he did with Sinead O'Connor- and he’s one of the very few English musicians to have written quite an enjoyable song in tribute to the A13 – the other being Billy Bragg. Though it’s fair to say that the vast majority of his output from the mid-90s onwards isn’t for me at all, and like many artists who become phenomenally prolific and set up their own labels etc, (Prince being a good example), quality control tends to take a back seat to the self-indulgent ego.
“These two extremes, the PC mob and the right-wing reactionary mob, are equally abhorrent to me.”
One of the refreshing things about these memoirs is his confrontational approach, he consistently calls out the smug middle-classes and the perpetual BS which goes on in their delusional, passive-aggressive bubbles and the myths and lies they tell about themselves and the world around them.
When it comes to the people he’s not afraid to be bitchy and call many out on their shortcomings and failings, John Lydon, Don Letts, Richard Branson, Jools Holland, Brian Eno, Sean Hughes, Iain Sinclair and many others get taken down a peg or two or called out on their BS and yet in other ways he also seems to be fairly forgiving and not holding grudges.
On Peter Gabriel,
“In an instant I saw another side to him. I already knew that he was as much a businessman as an artist. But suddenly he appeared to me as if he were an art collector, like Charles Saatchi. Only instead of acquiring paintings, he acquired music.”
On Womad,
“It really was an unappealing mix of rank amateurism and upper-middle class insincerity.”
His views on the elite who pollute and control the music business:
“I came to realise that for the boys and girls of the elite ruling class the world truly is their oyster. They know all the strategies. They are adept at finding a cushy number, whether it’s in the Foreign Office or the music business. They are very well educated, and very well connected…They are expert in hiding their motivations and intentions. They seem to love being Machiavellian. When the circumstances are right the former elite public-school brigade are entirely capable of being 100% ruthless.”
His take on old Etonians,
“They tend to lack any real empathy for people, or to have genuine life experience. It’s all a bit of an abstract to them all a bit of a game. And there are, of course, never any negative consequences for them. Just another plum gig doing lucrative after-dinner speaking, or another nice cushy directorship in the City.”
It’s interesting that throughout much of the 80s in order to make ends meet Wobble found himself working as a taxi driver, truck driver, warehouse manager as well as working on the London underground in between gigging and writing and recording music, and I was also surprised to learn that right up until the 90s he was living in a council house.
Kicking out the windshield of the tour bus, and standing up on a recording desk during a session and pissing all over it, slapping a fellow contestant on the set of a well-known TV show, and greeting a tour promoter by grabbing him by the throat and barking out a list of dark demands.
For someone who claims to be against violence and to be a non-violent guy, Wobble has quite the history for winding people up or engaging in overtly hostile behaviour.
To be fair he never shies away from blowing his own trumpet, pulling out all manner of gushing praise over his vast output and yet often seems so critical and patronising about the talents and limitations of his various many band members.
Wobble comes through strongly in this, often comes across as a bit of a prickly character and there seems to be many confusing contradictions and conflict going on with him and his accounts?...He relates the origins and background of his family, who seemingly endured generations of serious hardship, with many dying far too young. He acknowledges some of his own issues and complicity in the past, not least his alcoholism, and the estranged relationship he has with his first wife and two daughters.
And yet I got a lot out of this and he is ultimately an intriguing figure, who certainly has many interesting things to share and many valid and informed points to make on a number of subjects, which keep this really engaging up to the closing pages. Strangely enough in his most recent photos, he bears quite a resemblance to Vladimir Putin?...
“All the people I knew had a lot in common. They had all grown up in poky council flats, were brighter than average, and had a certain je ne sais quoi. There was a sense with all of us that we somehow wanted to escape the rather sedate destiny which had already been mapped out for us by square society. We were also far too sussed to believe anything trendy Hampstead intellectuals or hippies had to say.”
There’s a really interesting old BBC radio interview with Andy Kershaw and Wobble and Wobble comes across as incredibly affable and laid back – and of course I’m a fan of much of the man’s music, from PiL, the album he did with The Edge and that one he did with Sinead O'Connor- and he’s one of the very few English musicians to have written quite an enjoyable song in tribute to the A13 – the other being Billy Bragg. Though it’s fair to say that the vast majority of his output from the mid-90s onwards isn’t for me at all, and like many artists who become phenomenally prolific and set up their own labels etc, (Prince being a good example), quality control tends to take a back seat to the self-indulgent ego.
“These two extremes, the PC mob and the right-wing reactionary mob, are equally abhorrent to me.”
One of the refreshing things about these memoirs is his confrontational approach, he consistently calls out the smug middle-classes and the perpetual BS which goes on in their delusional, passive-aggressive bubbles and the myths and lies they tell about themselves and the world around them.
When it comes to the people he’s not afraid to be bitchy and call many out on their shortcomings and failings, John Lydon, Don Letts, Richard Branson, Jools Holland, Brian Eno, Sean Hughes, Iain Sinclair and many others get taken down a peg or two or called out on their BS and yet in other ways he also seems to be fairly forgiving and not holding grudges.
On Peter Gabriel,
“In an instant I saw another side to him. I already knew that he was as much a businessman as an artist. But suddenly he appeared to me as if he were an art collector, like Charles Saatchi. Only instead of acquiring paintings, he acquired music.”
On Womad,
“It really was an unappealing mix of rank amateurism and upper-middle class insincerity.”
His views on the elite who pollute and control the music business:
“I came to realise that for the boys and girls of the elite ruling class the world truly is their oyster. They know all the strategies. They are adept at finding a cushy number, whether it’s in the Foreign Office or the music business. They are very well educated, and very well connected…They are expert in hiding their motivations and intentions. They seem to love being Machiavellian. When the circumstances are right the former elite public-school brigade are entirely capable of being 100% ruthless.”
His take on old Etonians,
“They tend to lack any real empathy for people, or to have genuine life experience. It’s all a bit of an abstract to them all a bit of a game. And there are, of course, never any negative consequences for them. Just another plum gig doing lucrative after-dinner speaking, or another nice cushy directorship in the City.”
It’s interesting that throughout much of the 80s in order to make ends meet Wobble found himself working as a taxi driver, truck driver, warehouse manager as well as working on the London underground in between gigging and writing and recording music, and I was also surprised to learn that right up until the 90s he was living in a council house.
Kicking out the windshield of the tour bus, and standing up on a recording desk during a session and pissing all over it, slapping a fellow contestant on the set of a well-known TV show, and greeting a tour promoter by grabbing him by the throat and barking out a list of dark demands.
For someone who claims to be against violence and to be a non-violent guy, Wobble has quite the history for winding people up or engaging in overtly hostile behaviour.
To be fair he never shies away from blowing his own trumpet, pulling out all manner of gushing praise over his vast output and yet often seems so critical and patronising about the talents and limitations of his various many band members.
Wobble comes through strongly in this, often comes across as a bit of a prickly character and there seems to be many confusing contradictions and conflict going on with him and his accounts?...He relates the origins and background of his family, who seemingly endured generations of serious hardship, with many dying far too young. He acknowledges some of his own issues and complicity in the past, not least his alcoholism, and the estranged relationship he has with his first wife and two daughters.
And yet I got a lot out of this and he is ultimately an intriguing figure, who certainly has many interesting things to share and many valid and informed points to make on a number of subjects, which keep this really engaging up to the closing pages. Strangely enough in his most recent photos, he bears quite a resemblance to Vladimir Putin?...
July 19, 2024
“Dark Luminosity” is an updated edition of Jah Wobble’s earlier autobiography – “Memoirs of a Geezer” – that was originally published in 2009. And “Dark Luminosity” tells quite a journey, from Jah Wobble’s youth in the hard-bitten estates of East London, through to becoming the legendary bassist with post-punk icons Public Image Limited, his descent into the oblivion of alcohol addiction, and his eventual recovery.
Jah Wobble is far from adverse to score-settling throughout “Dark Luminosity”. John Lydon, Malcolm McLaren, the entire New York punk set, Jools Holland, and Sean Hughes all get it in the neck to varying degrees. But it is to Wobble’s credit that he reserves the most unrelenting criticism to himself, most obviously when writing about his chaotic relationships with drugs and alcohol, the toll his addictions took on himself, friends, and family, and his slow journey towards recovery.
There were two elements of “Dark Luminosity” that I found really engrossing. Firstly, Jah Wobble’s descriptions of growing up and living in the inner east-end of London are tremendous and are evocative of a culture (whether through the east-end working class enclaves of Wapping, Poplar, and Limehouse, the squats of Lambeth, or Soho at its seediest) that has been commercialised out of existence. The disappearance of these communities is dispiriting to Wobble, a self-professed welfare state kid who grew up in a London “relatively untarnished by free market economics”. Wobble’s London-Irish roots (which I was previously unaware of) were also of particular interest to me.
Secondly, I found Jah Wobble’s stories from working on the London Underground (basically as a nixer between recording gigs) to be utterly engrossing. Maybe it is the train nerd in me, but I would have preferred Wobble to devote much more space to his escapades working on the London Underground (from the subtle differences between working on different Tube lines and different depots, and his anecdotes of wildly eccentric station managers and inspectors). And speaking of giving the nerds what they want, as one of the most influential and distinctive bassists of the last half-century, I would have forgiven Jah Wobble if he had given full rein to discussing the intricacies of bass-playing and the transcendent power of the bass.
My main quibbles with “Dark Luminosity” are that, after Wobble cleans up his lifestyle and from the mid-80s carves out his own niche on the fringes of the music industry, the book meanders along to its relatively content conclusion without anything explosively interesting happening. Which is grand in itself - the main thing is that Wobble has found that inner peace and contentment. But that isn’t to say that a more judicious editor couldn’t have hacked a good third off the duration of “Dark Luminosity” without losing too much of interest.
Where “Dark Luminosity” does succeed is in making the case for complete artistic freedom, of not being afraid to eschew the mainstream and instead operate in the margins. This book shows how that has been a life-long credo of Jah Wobble. And given the depths of his old addictions, “Dark Luminosity” is quite an optimistic book, with Wobble having enough self-awareness to describe how much of a monster he was as an alcoholic, but without descending into generic ‘misery lit’.
Jah Wobble is far from adverse to score-settling throughout “Dark Luminosity”. John Lydon, Malcolm McLaren, the entire New York punk set, Jools Holland, and Sean Hughes all get it in the neck to varying degrees. But it is to Wobble’s credit that he reserves the most unrelenting criticism to himself, most obviously when writing about his chaotic relationships with drugs and alcohol, the toll his addictions took on himself, friends, and family, and his slow journey towards recovery.
There were two elements of “Dark Luminosity” that I found really engrossing. Firstly, Jah Wobble’s descriptions of growing up and living in the inner east-end of London are tremendous and are evocative of a culture (whether through the east-end working class enclaves of Wapping, Poplar, and Limehouse, the squats of Lambeth, or Soho at its seediest) that has been commercialised out of existence. The disappearance of these communities is dispiriting to Wobble, a self-professed welfare state kid who grew up in a London “relatively untarnished by free market economics”. Wobble’s London-Irish roots (which I was previously unaware of) were also of particular interest to me.
Secondly, I found Jah Wobble’s stories from working on the London Underground (basically as a nixer between recording gigs) to be utterly engrossing. Maybe it is the train nerd in me, but I would have preferred Wobble to devote much more space to his escapades working on the London Underground (from the subtle differences between working on different Tube lines and different depots, and his anecdotes of wildly eccentric station managers and inspectors). And speaking of giving the nerds what they want, as one of the most influential and distinctive bassists of the last half-century, I would have forgiven Jah Wobble if he had given full rein to discussing the intricacies of bass-playing and the transcendent power of the bass.
My main quibbles with “Dark Luminosity” are that, after Wobble cleans up his lifestyle and from the mid-80s carves out his own niche on the fringes of the music industry, the book meanders along to its relatively content conclusion without anything explosively interesting happening. Which is grand in itself - the main thing is that Wobble has found that inner peace and contentment. But that isn’t to say that a more judicious editor couldn’t have hacked a good third off the duration of “Dark Luminosity” without losing too much of interest.
Where “Dark Luminosity” does succeed is in making the case for complete artistic freedom, of not being afraid to eschew the mainstream and instead operate in the margins. This book shows how that has been a life-long credo of Jah Wobble. And given the depths of his old addictions, “Dark Luminosity” is quite an optimistic book, with Wobble having enough self-awareness to describe how much of a monster he was as an alcoholic, but without descending into generic ‘misery lit’.
October 16, 2024
I find it fascinating that a cockney lout managed to embrace the true principle of enlightenment, the Brahman, the Tao, whatever you may call it — by hitting rock bottom via coke and booze.
That doesn’t necessarily make Wobble a good person. The text is unsparing, truly written by the subject himself, judging by the frequent ramblings and scores he wants to settle. He never misses a chance to belittle someone, or to tell the reader how he came out morally on top (in his eyes, at least) by being intimidating. He makes such frequent mention of “class” that one might suspect him of prejudice! Wobble really does tell you exactly what he’s like. Lots of parts, especially the late 70s, are only understandable if you know the context e.g. the mythos of the Sex Pistols. And as the book drags on, it becomes a giant mess of names — but you can’t blame him for living a busy life.
Despite all this, I couldn’t put it down. Wobble went through very dark phases that I could genuinely relate to, and he describes them with such frankness and honesty that it felt impossble to turn down such an open invitation into another person’s mind. The part where he feels his responsibilities of fatherhood clash with his music career, so out of absolute helplessness, he finds a way to ruin *both* with drug use, were weirdly endearing. Thank goodness for happy endings.
…it struck me violently, like a bolt out of the blue, that everything was temporary and fleeting, a mere temporary coming together of various factors (and that even those factors themselves were insubstantial). Of course, looked at that way 'everything' is 'nothing'. At that time I was quite scared by that notion, because ultimately it spelt death to my ego and to all the things that I considered permanent and fixed, such as identity and personality. Most scary was the thought that I might well not have a soul - well, certainly not in the way that I had believed up to that point. I realised that the comprehension of emptiness was the essence of liberation. That 'emptiness' is certainly not a cold lonely void; it’s a vast region of consciousness where anything's possible.
On other occasions back then I would feel that I was in some way being absorbed into the world. It was as if 'my' subatomic particles were striving to be absorbed into the universe. I would feel literally as light as feather. This sort of feeling would come and go.
…
For the first time in my life I felt a strong and consistent feeling of empathy in regard to the world. At that time I would have 'turns' that were quite pleasant. […] I would, on my regular sojourns up Roman Road market, see deities (in the form of regular people) all around me. I would try not to stare at people because, obviously, that can appear rude.
That doesn’t necessarily make Wobble a good person. The text is unsparing, truly written by the subject himself, judging by the frequent ramblings and scores he wants to settle. He never misses a chance to belittle someone, or to tell the reader how he came out morally on top (in his eyes, at least) by being intimidating. He makes such frequent mention of “class” that one might suspect him of prejudice! Wobble really does tell you exactly what he’s like. Lots of parts, especially the late 70s, are only understandable if you know the context e.g. the mythos of the Sex Pistols. And as the book drags on, it becomes a giant mess of names — but you can’t blame him for living a busy life.
Despite all this, I couldn’t put it down. Wobble went through very dark phases that I could genuinely relate to, and he describes them with such frankness and honesty that it felt impossble to turn down such an open invitation into another person’s mind. The part where he feels his responsibilities of fatherhood clash with his music career, so out of absolute helplessness, he finds a way to ruin *both* with drug use, were weirdly endearing. Thank goodness for happy endings.
May 27, 2024
I already have a copy of Memoirs of a Geezer, which I read twice, but when I saw this new and revised edition, I couldn't help but get it as well. It's hard to review and put in words what this book is really about. Obviously, it's an autobiography and it's a great one at that--it's written in a conversational tone straight from the kitchen table.
Some of it is deeply wrenching, such as the author's struggle with alcoholism, which he lays out in unsparing detail. And the real strength of how this tough part of the author's life is narrated isn't that it tells a story of glorious revival and redemption (though his turnaround does have elements of the miraculous) but rather that he owes his survival to fortuitous circumstances, including his ability to step back and astutely diagnose his predicament and many selfless acts of compassion by others (such as a near stranger who sits with him patiently to see him through a major crisis--this episode, amongst others, brought me to tears).
The book also chronicles the changes wrought in London by late-stage neoliberal capitalism, eventually leading to Brexit and to what now is an uncertain future for the country (mirroring the problems of the larger world). I've heard John say in recent interviews that he felt that he was going on too much about Brexit in the book, but I found if anything he gave it almost short shrift (not a criticism--the book is already 400 pages--just an observation).
And then of course being Jah Wobble the incomparable player of the bass, he's describing a great deal of the "music industry," past and present. It would be folly to try summarize this part--it's at times dizzying to learn with how many people he's crossed paths there--but suffice it to say, his skills of dispassionate observation and sharp wit come in very handy to cut many of them to size. Though, he turns the same wit against himself--if you're looking for a saint, you won't find one in this book, but plenty of compassion for the fact that we're all imperfect and eternal work in progress. A great read, written by a real mensch.
Some of it is deeply wrenching, such as the author's struggle with alcoholism, which he lays out in unsparing detail. And the real strength of how this tough part of the author's life is narrated isn't that it tells a story of glorious revival and redemption (though his turnaround does have elements of the miraculous) but rather that he owes his survival to fortuitous circumstances, including his ability to step back and astutely diagnose his predicament and many selfless acts of compassion by others (such as a near stranger who sits with him patiently to see him through a major crisis--this episode, amongst others, brought me to tears).
The book also chronicles the changes wrought in London by late-stage neoliberal capitalism, eventually leading to Brexit and to what now is an uncertain future for the country (mirroring the problems of the larger world). I've heard John say in recent interviews that he felt that he was going on too much about Brexit in the book, but I found if anything he gave it almost short shrift (not a criticism--the book is already 400 pages--just an observation).
And then of course being Jah Wobble the incomparable player of the bass, he's describing a great deal of the "music industry," past and present. It would be folly to try summarize this part--it's at times dizzying to learn with how many people he's crossed paths there--but suffice it to say, his skills of dispassionate observation and sharp wit come in very handy to cut many of them to size. Though, he turns the same wit against himself--if you're looking for a saint, you won't find one in this book, but plenty of compassion for the fact that we're all imperfect and eternal work in progress. A great read, written by a real mensch.
February 16, 2026
I really enjoyed this book. I was in London in thumbed through this in Rough Trade. A few bits about his love for football caught my eye. I put it back on the shelf and flew back home. I regretted not buying it for a while. I searched for it in the US but it doesn't seem to be distributed here. So, when I went back to England in December it was the first thing on my list to snatch up. It didn't disappoint.
I didn't really know too much about Jah Wobble. Mostly I knew him as the bassist for PiL and anything else that I might learn off of some liner notes (not much.) This book filled in the story.
He's a funny guy, made me laugh a lot while reading, and he also taught me a few new bits of cockney slang. He writes how he talks. Actually, he writes so much in a conversational way that there are a few parts to the story where he couldn't remember something and he just said so and moved on instead of stopping to research. Basically, it's like sitting in a pub and hearing him tell his stories.
Towards the end of the book he kinda raced through his musical career a bit. It had a bit of a "then I did this and then I did that" vibe. But I didn't mind too much.
A thoroughly enjoyable read.
I didn't really know too much about Jah Wobble. Mostly I knew him as the bassist for PiL and anything else that I might learn off of some liner notes (not much.) This book filled in the story.
He's a funny guy, made me laugh a lot while reading, and he also taught me a few new bits of cockney slang. He writes how he talks. Actually, he writes so much in a conversational way that there are a few parts to the story where he couldn't remember something and he just said so and moved on instead of stopping to research. Basically, it's like sitting in a pub and hearing him tell his stories.
Towards the end of the book he kinda raced through his musical career a bit. It had a bit of a "then I did this and then I did that" vibe. But I didn't mind too much.
A thoroughly enjoyable read.
April 10, 2024
Good solid effort-- I didn't know about this book when it first came out (not sure how that happened) but I'm glad I stumbled upon the expanded edition in audiobook form from my local library. He's an affable bloke, one who really seems genuinely sorry about his bad behavior while on drugs and generally living his best life now that he's 38 years sober. His stories about his wife and her family are really touching and sweet. His PiL days are fun to read about, even if they weren't fun to live through for him.
March 23, 2024
A nice update, 15 years years on, of Memoirs of a Geezer. Not just in the end chapters but also additions to the original chapters. He freely admits that drink and drugs made him a total bellend at times but having given them up he is a much happier person with a great marriage, great kids and constantly releasing new material. This actually improves on the first edition, PIL pun intended.
September 21, 2025
I really enjoyed this one, an honest and open account of a very interesting life. I found it very well-written and readable and enjoyed hearing about his experiences of London just as much as I did the music side of it, he also brilliantly documented how he overcome addiction. A very good read
June 30, 2024
What a top geezer. The football was a lil too much fo me, but I enjoyed his views on life, especially regarding regular people.
August 8, 2024
Pretty great trip in the history of music!
September 10, 2024
Superb stuff.
December 3, 2024
Geezer!
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews