The Olivetti Chronicles

by John Peel

John Peel, best known for his four decades of music-scene radio broadcasting, was all the while committing his laconic brilliance to paper in articles and reviews. Selections of these writings amount to a second autobiography.

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, Biography, Memoir, British Literature, Journalism, 21st Century

400 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 2008

About the author

English disc jockey, radio presenter and journalist, broadcasting regularly from 1967, until his death in 2004.

Peel celebrated music with his eclectic taste. He was one of the first radio DJs to play psychedelic rock, reggae and punk. He also played classic blues, folk music and psychedelic rock, with an emphasis on music emerging from Los Angeles and San Francisco.

The 'Peel sessions' launched a lot of music careers. They usually consisted of four songs recorded by the artists live in the BBC's studios. These sessions were often the first big exposure for bands that would go on to become quite popular.

Reviews

[Lee Broderick · Rating 4 out of 5]

I remember distinctly the moment I heard that John Peel had died. It hurt. It hurt for days after, feeling strangely like I'd lost a member of my family. I know though, that I was not alone: the attachment felt for this peculiarly bumbling but gentle man across disparate cross-sections of the British public must have made him a celebrity like no other, even if he never realised it. When Margrave of the Marshes was released I read it almost immediately and found it rather bitter-sweet, helping me come to terms with the loss even as it reopened fresh wounds.

So what of The Olivetti Chronicles? Time has passed and it's famously a great healer. It's still sad to be reminded that we'll never hear John's voice again but there's great joy to be had in the contents of this book. Edited by his family it contains a selection of articles written mainly for columns in various newspapers and magazines over more than thirty years. It's like bumping into an old friend who you haven't seen for years and sharing a few drinks: there's a lot to catch up on and stories gallop past one another in the telling.

The editors elected to arrange the columns alphabetically by principle subject which, at first glance, might appear to be a strange way to go about things but in actuality its an idea perfect in its execution as well as its simplicity. What results is a series of vignettes as completely unrelated to those either side of it as John's presentation style made his radio programmes. Like those programmes, something cohesive somehow emerged from the chaotic whole. It also means that it's as easy to dip in and out of as it is to read in one sitting.

I may well never see or hear from John again but that's OK: the memories of our last encounter will live long and I know I can always come back to that place where we last caught up and live it again if I need to.

[Tim Julian · Rating 5 out of 5]

For British music lovers Peel hardly needs any introduction - he was, simply, for close on 4 decades the most influential tastemaker on the radio, first with the pirate station Radio London (where his Perfumed Garden show interspersed the wilder shores of psychedelia with readings from Winnie the Pooh) then via a regular late-night slot on BBC Radio One where he championed over the years then unknowns like Pink Floyd, David Bowie, T. Rex, Roxy Music and The Faces before embracing punk with a passion, followed by love affairs with reggae, African pop, hip hop, industrial noise, just about anything as long as it was unlikely to be played anywhere else. The one constant was Peel's mordant wit, which paradoxically made this least starry of DJs the most famous one of all. This is a collection of his writings from the early 1970s till his death in 2004 and a more enjoyable collection could scarcely be imagined. Of course Peel owes a lot to Wodehouse in certain stylistic flourishes, but then, saying that a humorist is indebted to Wodehouse is like saying a guitar band is indebted to the Beatles. You can scarcely avoid it. The Pig (Wife), William (A Boy), Madge (A Simple Village Maiden) and of course Gabs The Appalling Red-Haired Sister-in-Law all make regular appearances. An absolute delight.

[will · Rating 5 out of 5]

I didn't know this book existed. Actually, that's not true. I had seen in my Goodreads update that Neil Gaiman had just read a book about John Peel, but I didn't take a lot of notice. I hit delete and moved on. Therefore, it was a wonderful surprise when maria handed me a parcel from Amazon and wished me a happy father's day.

This is a collection of some of John Peel's writing, all of it hammered out on his Olivetti typewriter (hence the title). The articles are collected from several sources and span four decades, the 1970s to the 2000s.

It is wonderful to "hear" John's voice again. Through the stories you rediscover his love of his family, music, and Liverpool football club. Obviously, most people know Mr. Peel (I can't call him John) through his radio shows. In my case (and I am probably not alone in this) it was spending the night, listening through an ear piece, as the signal faded in-and-out, under the blankets - so I wouldn't get caught. From 1976 to 1979 I followed a revolution in music through its greatest reporter, John Peel.

Some of the articles in this book deal with the paucity of music in 1975/6. John Peel predicts (and often demands) a change in the music scene. When the change comes, centred around The Sex Pistols, John Peel leaps to their defence. In one article, his defence is more of an attack on the "old" establishment, and the Last Night of The Proms.

But not all the articles are about music, many cover his other interests; family, football, television, and TT racing.

This is a fantastic book for anyone who was ever touched by John Peel's own brand of magic. It is a great book for anyone who grew up through the years 74-84, as the book will cause you to reminisce over "the good olde days". It is a good book for anyone who enjoys well thought out writing.

Can you tell I really enjoyed this book?

[Lucynell · Rating 2 out of 5]

John Peel's legacy as a radio disc-jockey cannot be over-estimated. Through his radio shows struggling artists found an audience, from Pink Floyd to Bob Marley, Nirvana to Pulp, music genres and scenes exposed, Punk, Reggae, New Wave, Industrial, Hip Hop, the infamous Seattle scene and more. And in the mid 90s I was lucky enough to be, through BBC's World Service, one of his listeners. His voice seems etched in my head, though for the life of me, I can't remember even one of the songs he played.
The Olivetti Chronicles is a collection of his periodical writings, stretching over four decades, 125 pieces, each two to four, five pages long, covering a wide range of subjects. Music is central but we also get his beard, his love for Liverpool FC, how he lost his virginity and so on and so forth.
Much like his shows this is a mix bag of the good, the bizarre and the ugly. Highlights include live reports from a Sonic Youth/The Jesus And Mary Chain gig (1986), an article on the Smiths (1987), manic fans offering 'fallatio until you faint', as well as' ripping off his head for bad-mouthing ELP.' But the reality is you can read music journalism as good and better by less famous yet no less knowledgeable people every month in any of Britain's premier mainstream music publications like Uncut, Q, and Mojo. The majority of this book's articles are anodyne, to put it mildly, some make no sense at all, and a lot are plain indifferent.
And ultimately this is The Olivetti Chronicles failing - it feels really unnecessary. If you want to know the man and his awesome contribution to pop music (and if you like music you should) you can pick up a copy of Margrave Of The Marshes instead, and read it while listening to one of his end-of-the-year Festive 50 lists.

[Godzilla · Rating 3 out of 5]

I really wanted to give this book more than three stars, but I find it hard to justify anything more.

Don't get me wrong, I am down with the funky kids, and really appreciate everything that John Peel did to change musical tastes and highlight otherwise underappreciated bands. A lot of my favourite bands are favourites thanks to his radio shows.

However there are flaws with this book, flaws which have nothing to do with Peelie, as it was collected together posthumously.

I would have preferred a chronological order, rather than the skipping backwards and forwards method utilised. Ok, it adds for variety, but it really hampered my understanding of his development of style and progress. Plus if you're not a football fan, Liverpool's fortunes must seem like a yo-yo!

I did like the short punchy style of writing, which suits Peel's normally on air delivery, pithy and very self deprecating.

I would recommend Margrave of the Marshes over this to anyone, as it would set the scene a lot better for the asides that litter this book. Without context some of them appear very random and will surely distract from the casual reader's enjoyment.

[Claire]

Put together by his family, this is a thoroughly enjoyable collection of the late John Peel's journalism for such diverse publications as The Radio Times, Sounds, The Listener, Punch, BIKE Magazine, and various national newspapers. Covering subjects as diverse as his family and other animals, music of all forms, broadcasting, his beloved Liverpool FC, the Eurovision song contest, the TT races on the Isle of Man, and why everyone hates The Osmonds, the articles in this book are a perfect reminder of just how damn good he was at what he did and just how much so many of us still miss him. This book is simply redolent of the great man's distinctive, laconic voice and cheeky sense of humour, and works just as well as good read as a whole, or a volume to simply dip into. Essential for all Peel fans.

[James Haliburton · Rating 5 out of 5]

Whether writing about The Osmonds, The Fall or shaving off his beard, this non-chronological collection of John Peel's writing is, after 'Margrave of the Marshes', another fine testament to his humour, integrity and honesty. Bite-sized snippets to remind us all of the Peel-shaped hole he has left in music and our lives.

[Liedzeit Liedzeit · Rating 4 out of 5]

Journalistic pieces collected by his family in alphabetical order. Which is a little bit odd. Some of them quite funny. Some not as funny as one would have hoped. No revelations. Best observation: there is nothing to be gained by listening to a man who wears hats on stage. He did not like Billy Joel but seemed at one time not to have hated Phil Collins.

[Jerome Turner]

nice bite size chunks of Peel, and the only book I know of with Jacob's Mouse in the index...

[Louise · Rating 3 out of 5]

Lovely collection of writings. Only problem really was the order- I would have preferred it to be chronological.

[Karen Young]

It was lovely to hear John Peel's "voice" again. Excerpts from his writing over the years. His warmth and humour that is so much missed by his many fans.

[Tracey]

Every so often, when I clear the dust off the teetering pile of books started but not yet finished, I dip into this and read another essay. It makes it feel like he's still around somehow ...

[Karen · Rating 2 out of 5]

An opportunity missed.

[Chris Everson · Rating 1 out of 5]

Absolutely AWFUL

I had read 'Margrave of the Marshes' and loved it, so had high hopes for this.

All this is, is a mixture of his columns for Radio Times, Melody Maker, Sounds, etc... It is put together by his family and I wish I could say something... anything... positive about it. I can't.

It's put together in alphebetical order via titles the family have given his pieces, so you jump from 1973 to 2002 and back to 1986 within 10 pages. Maybe it's done to be quirky, or to maintain interest. I have no idea. It didn't work for me.

But on to my main gripe. This actually made me think John Peel must have been an isufferable person. His 'insights' are very judgemental, and he gives little reason why. Some of his colums make little or no sense (aomething the family mention in the prologue), and when he attempts to be funny and self-mock or pretend he's rich and lives in a mansion... it's toe-curlingly awful.

If I could give this zero, I would. It's put a cloud over my youth, listening to JP and his 'festive fifty' all those years ago.

Avoid.

[Graham Power · Rating 5 out of 5]

As this book demonstrates John Peel was, among other things, one of the funniest writers of the second half of the 20th century.

When he arrived at the newly inaugurated Radio 1 in 1967 the place was awash with ‘Personality DJs’, i.e. the transcendentally banal likes of Simon Dee and Tony Blackburn (with whom Peel had a minor obsession and who crops up, hilariously, in these pages as the hapless Timmy Bannockburn). In contrast to these synthetic and overweening types Peel offered a genuine personality and a modest belief that the records were more important than the chat between them.

Despite this, part of the reason you listened to the Peel show was to hear Peel. Indeed, in the latter years of his career, in my case it was almost the entire reason as I no longer liked most of the music he played (I’d got older but Peel, it seemed, hadn’t).

Peel writing is just like Peel talking on the radio. Sublimely idiosyncratic and yet reassuringly ordinary, ironic yet sincere, discursive, slightly dotty yet somehow strangely sane, intimate yet enigmatic, and wonderfully warm.

Over the years he broadcast on a wide variety of networks - Radios 1, 4 and 3, the BBC World Service, British Forces Broadcasting Service - but he always sounded unchanged and unmistakably like John Peel. Similarly, readers of publications as diverse as Sounds, the Listener, Disc, the Observer, Bike magazine, Punch and Radio Times, found themselves having to devour undiluted Peel. He made no attempt to tailor his style or opinions to the supposed tastes of his various readerships.

He writes about all manner of things - Liverpool FC are mentioned one or two hundred times and he transmutes his family life in a cottage in Suffolk into a comic version of The Archers (in which he appeared) or perhaps a real life version of Vivian Stanshall’s Sir Henry at Rawlinson End (which started on his programme). But it’s not so much what he writes about that matters as the way he writes. Peel’s literary style owes something to J B Morton, P G Wodehouse and the aforementioned Sir Viv, but the captivating voice that emerges from this confluence of eccentric influences is singularly his own. If these pieces don’t cause you to smile, at the very least, then I recommend you consult your doctor immediately as you’re probably dead.

And he writes about music, naturally. In fact, as it moves from the early seventies to the noughties this book provides a pretty good history of the evolving, or devolving depending on your point of view, rock music scene over thirty odd years. And also Peel’s constant yet constantly changing place within it. At least it would do - and here we arrive at my only grumble - had the articles been arranged chronologically. Annoyingly, they haven’t been. Never mind.

Although in no way revelatory - Mr Ravenscroft has his John Peel mask firmly in place throughout - in its haphazard way The Olivetti Chronicles constitutes a better and more entertaining Peel autobiography than the official one - the sadly unfinished, indeed barely started, Margrave of the Marshes. His offhand brilliance is present on every page.

The perfect bedside companion, as the reviewers say mysteriously.