From dazzling electronic futurism to pioneering post-punk, via pop, metal, bassline, bleep techno and generation-defining indie rock, Sheffield has long been a crucible for world-leading music.
Some artists have excelled on the fringes, others have achieved global success, but all remain connected through a fervently independent ethos. In Sheffield, creativity flourished in the face of isolation, economic decline and bleak political circumstances, resulting in some of Britain's most groundbreaking and singular music. But the region's ingrained humility and dogged stoicism means it has never been documented or celebrated to the level of more hubristic cities.
In Groovy, Laidback and Nasty, acclaimed Sheffield journalist Daniel Dylan Wray sets out to remedy this, telling the story of the city's DIY spirit and the musical visionaries and innovators who helped build its inimitable legacy. Exhaustively researched and spanning almost seven decades, it features over 150 interviews with the likes of Pulp, Arctic Monkeys, The Human League, Cabaret Voltaire, Self Esteem and Richard Hawley, along with countless others.
Both a compelling cultural study and an unapologetic love letter to the city, this - finally - is the definitive musical history Sheffield so richly deserves.
I think that while this book gives a decent overall picture of the music of Sheffield, it’s perhaps a little uneven and maybe the author’s own personal preferences come into play a little.
Starting first with the picture it gives. It’s very interesting to read of Sheffield’s rejection of punk and instead, a more experimental sound emerging there. This sound dominated early on and reflects the mill-heavy architecture of the town. The book shows how this sound continues throughout the city’s history with Cabaret Voltaire passing the torch on to Warp Records years later.
There’s some truly great anecdotes and quips too. Perhaps my favourite is the story of one of Babybird’s dual managers, who thought himself unfairly treated. From that point on, he promised to punch Stephen Jones (Babybird) in the face every time he saw him; something he did several times over a number of years until finally a truce was reached. Jarvis Cocker quoting that ‘the raw materials I was dealt at birth had me marked out as a Blockbusters contest [rather than for pop star fame]’ also made me laugh.
However, returning to the uneven aspect, I did feel that almost every Human League album was covered in detail but when it came to perhaps the city’s biggest export, Arctic Monkeys, the number of pages dedicated to them alone was far briefer. There’s no mention of Chris McClure posing for the front cover for the first album, neither the city’s continuing place in their music beyond the first album which is perhaps most prominently shown on ‘Cornerstone’, nor the impact of their gigs at Hillsbrough Park or Don Valley Bowl on the Sheffield people themselves and the city’s economy.
I think for pre-2000 Sheffield, this book is comprehensive, covering every corner, but sadly post-millennium it feels like it just touches the surfaces.
This is a fun book, especially if you lived in Sheffield during parts of the time documented here. It's an exhaustive account of the city's music over more than five decades, and it does an admirable job on shining a light on some of the lesser known acts and stories from the city. It does get a bit dense with names in parts, especially confusing if you're not intimately knowledgeable about all the bands, and the book could use a stronger editor, but otherwise this was well worth my time.
Quite simply a fantastic piece of work. Not only was it in part nostalgia, but it did a fantastic job of integrating both hardships of creating music that are often overlooked. It’s not just a book of pure celebration but also of social commentary on the city.