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Broken Greek
'Do you sometimes feel like the music you're hearing is explaining your life to you?'
When Pete's parents moved from Cyprus to Birmingham in the 1960s in the hope of a better life, they had no money and only a little bit of English. They opened a fish-and-chip shop in Acocks Green. The Great Western Fish Bar is where Pete learned about coin-operated machines, male banter and Britishness.
Shy and introverted, Pete stopped speaking from age 4 to 7, and found refuge instead in the bittersweet embrace of pop songs, thanks to Top of the Pops and Dial-A-Disc. From Brotherhood of Man to UB40, from ABBA to The Police, music provided the safety net he needed to protect him from the tensions of his home life. It also helped him navigate his way around the challenges surrounding school, friendships and phobias such as visits to the barber, standing near tall buildings and Rod Hull and Emu.
With every passing year, his guilty secret became more horrifying to him: his parents were Greek, but all the things that excited him were British. And the engine of that realisation? 'Sugar Baby Love', 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart', 'Tragedy', 'Silly Games', 'Going Underground', 'Come On Eileen', and every other irresistibly thrilling chart hit blaring out of the chip shop radio.
Never have the trials and tribulations of growing up and the human need for a sense of belonging been so heart-breakingly and humorously depicted.
608 pages, Hardcover
First published March 5, 2020
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1265 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 187 reviews
March 18, 2022
This is the story of a little immigrant child who seemed to be entirely at odds with his family who one day wanted to return to Greece where his mother was from, since Cyprus, where his father was from, was now in a not so happy divided situation. To be an immigrant with parents who despite their very English business of a chip shop, did not really want to assimilate, is to be between two cultures. Twice the joy for some, but half as much for others. Pete was in the half as much camp. He really wanted to be English and insisted on being called by an English name. The backdrop to his life, where he related his world to, where he derived his own culture from, was pop music.
To be honest, the only part of the book I found interesting was his selective mutism between 4 and 7 years old. He spoke only to his family and his teacher and no one else at all and was too young to explain why, if he really knew.
This should have been a big hit with me. I was mad about music as a kid. At 11 in grammar school, three of us used to race down the road at lunchtime to go to a friend's house and eat yoghurt and listen to music, records imported from the US, mostly Black music, Northern soul.
Later, via dancing, I got into reggae and world music and my bf (he became my first husband) and I got three decks and a home studio mixing desk together to make tapes. Eventually we became world music journalists writing for big time magazines, like Top, the Tower Records in London and New York, but we didn't hit the big time like Pete Paphides did. I didn't have the author's talent and I wasn't really dedicated to it. Sailing and travelling were my mad passions then. So this is why I got the book, I thought it might resonate with me, but it didn't. I did enjoy him talking about the pop songs and what they meant to him though.
The book never hit the heights they hype promised to me, and was overlong. It ended when Pete hit the teenage years, but I was skimming long before that. The book never hooked me but I don't think it is a bad book, I think a lot of people would really enjoy it, just not me.
To be honest, the only part of the book I found interesting was his selective mutism between 4 and 7 years old. He spoke only to his family and his teacher and no one else at all and was too young to explain why, if he really knew.
This should have been a big hit with me. I was mad about music as a kid. At 11 in grammar school, three of us used to race down the road at lunchtime to go to a friend's house and eat yoghurt and listen to music, records imported from the US, mostly Black music, Northern soul.
Later, via dancing, I got into reggae and world music and my bf (he became my first husband) and I got three decks and a home studio mixing desk together to make tapes. Eventually we became world music journalists writing for big time magazines, like Top, the Tower Records in London and New York, but we didn't hit the big time like Pete Paphides did. I didn't have the author's talent and I wasn't really dedicated to it. Sailing and travelling were my mad passions then. So this is why I got the book, I thought it might resonate with me, but it didn't. I did enjoy him talking about the pop songs and what they meant to him though.
The book never hit the heights they hype promised to me, and was overlong. It ended when Pete hit the teenage years, but I was skimming long before that. The book never hooked me but I don't think it is a bad book, I think a lot of people would really enjoy it, just not me.
August 15, 2021
Pete Paphides is a UK music journalist, and has worked as a critic for many notable publications such as The Guardian, Melody Maker and The Times. This memoir is a recollection of his childhood, a story of chip shops and pop songs as he eloquently puts it.
Paphides was born in Birmingham in 1969 to a Greek mother and a Greek Cypriot father. His parents relocated from Greece to the UK as a young couple, which was originally intended to a be a temporary stay. They ran a succession of fish and chip shops, working long, hard hours. Takis, as Paphides was known back then, remembers playing pinball in a room at the back of the shop with some of the older customers.
For almost four years when he was a boy, Paphides did not speak to anybody besides his parents and older brother Aki. He still can't explain why this selective mutism occurred - he was referred to psychologists who failed to solve the problem. He did have a lisp and was quite a sensitive child, which may have contributed to his condition. His more confident brother was key to eventually coaxing him out of his shell.
Paphides' love of music was formed at an early age, and it is a joy to read about. As soon as he had any pocket money to spend, it was all shelled out on records. He fondly recalls his love for the likes of ABBA, Dexy's Midnight Runners and The Jam, and reveals an unhealthy obsession with others like comedy pop group The Barron Knights. His brother Aki often turned up his nose at some of those less fashionable bands, listening instead to the much cooler Echo and the Bunnymen, which little Takis grew to admire.
There seems to have been quite an amount of tension in the family at certain times during his childhood. His father was a workaholic and expected his wife to share the same ethic, which soon began to affect her health. Christmas was always a fraught affair, as his Dad wrestled with the notion of travelling to Cyprus for a few days, and then having to deal with the agonizing homesickness on his return to Birmingham. He eventually gave up on the idea altogether and could be moody around the holidays. But on the whole his parents come across as caring and generous, and Paphides looks back on these times fondly.
I imagine that UK children of the 1970s would identify with lots of the material in this book - recollections of Woolworths, Dial-a-Disc and The Wombles will undoubtedly bring the memories flooding back. But you don't have to be of a certain age or nationality to enjoy Broken Greek. It's a stirring tale of an immigrant family's struggle to make it in a new country. And it's also a joyful account of how a young boy grew to worship pop music, how it gave him an identity and shaped him into the person he is today. And Paphides' giddy, rapturous descriptions of the songs and bands he loved back then make it an absolute pleasure to read.
Paphides was born in Birmingham in 1969 to a Greek mother and a Greek Cypriot father. His parents relocated from Greece to the UK as a young couple, which was originally intended to a be a temporary stay. They ran a succession of fish and chip shops, working long, hard hours. Takis, as Paphides was known back then, remembers playing pinball in a room at the back of the shop with some of the older customers.
For almost four years when he was a boy, Paphides did not speak to anybody besides his parents and older brother Aki. He still can't explain why this selective mutism occurred - he was referred to psychologists who failed to solve the problem. He did have a lisp and was quite a sensitive child, which may have contributed to his condition. His more confident brother was key to eventually coaxing him out of his shell.
Paphides' love of music was formed at an early age, and it is a joy to read about. As soon as he had any pocket money to spend, it was all shelled out on records. He fondly recalls his love for the likes of ABBA, Dexy's Midnight Runners and The Jam, and reveals an unhealthy obsession with others like comedy pop group The Barron Knights. His brother Aki often turned up his nose at some of those less fashionable bands, listening instead to the much cooler Echo and the Bunnymen, which little Takis grew to admire.
There seems to have been quite an amount of tension in the family at certain times during his childhood. His father was a workaholic and expected his wife to share the same ethic, which soon began to affect her health. Christmas was always a fraught affair, as his Dad wrestled with the notion of travelling to Cyprus for a few days, and then having to deal with the agonizing homesickness on his return to Birmingham. He eventually gave up on the idea altogether and could be moody around the holidays. But on the whole his parents come across as caring and generous, and Paphides looks back on these times fondly.
I imagine that UK children of the 1970s would identify with lots of the material in this book - recollections of Woolworths, Dial-a-Disc and The Wombles will undoubtedly bring the memories flooding back. But you don't have to be of a certain age or nationality to enjoy Broken Greek. It's a stirring tale of an immigrant family's struggle to make it in a new country. And it's also a joyful account of how a young boy grew to worship pop music, how it gave him an identity and shaped him into the person he is today. And Paphides' giddy, rapturous descriptions of the songs and bands he loved back then make it an absolute pleasure to read.
April 15, 2020
I grew up a only few miles away from where Pete did and am only a few months younger so this autobiography resonated very deeply.
He captures memories with such precision that the frequent use of a time machine would seem to be the only plausible explanation for their clarity. They bring the sense of living through that period bubbling up, from forgotten lagoons in the brain.
The book is about the difficulties in his parents' marriage; the search for his own identity, knowing where he fits in, where he makes sense; how pop music can help you to understand the world and can help the world to understand you.
It's written so well, littered with observations about people and life. I eked out the final chapters because I didn't want it to end.
The fact that my favourite record store, Reddington's Rare Records, got mentioned a few times enhanced my giddy enjoyment. Now I feel drunk on pop music and a yearning nostalgia for the early 80s.
He captures memories with such precision that the frequent use of a time machine would seem to be the only plausible explanation for their clarity. They bring the sense of living through that period bubbling up, from forgotten lagoons in the brain.
The book is about the difficulties in his parents' marriage; the search for his own identity, knowing where he fits in, where he makes sense; how pop music can help you to understand the world and can help the world to understand you.
It's written so well, littered with observations about people and life. I eked out the final chapters because I didn't want it to end.
The fact that my favourite record store, Reddington's Rare Records, got mentioned a few times enhanced my giddy enjoyment. Now I feel drunk on pop music and a yearning nostalgia for the early 80s.
May 15, 2020
I've been a fan of Pete Paphides since his occasional cameo appearances on the now defunct Guardian Music Podcast.
As soon as I learned he written a memoir, Broken Greek, I was keen to read it.
My expectations were sky high and, I am delighted to report, they were exceeded.
Broken Greek is flipping brilliant.
I don't how but he achieved it, but Pete perfectly captures his adolescence, and the associated quest for identity, all exacerbated by being a kid of first generation immigrants, whilst being in thrall to pop music.
In addition to all the nostalgia and interesting tales of what pop songs meant to young Pete Paphides, there's also quite a sad story of the dashed hopes of his parents whose desire to return home to Greece/Cyprus was repeatedly dashed by one thing or another. How Pete's mother had to deal with the death of her Mum also reveals the tragic consequences of her leaving Athens.
I could happily turn back to page one and start all over again.
5/5
Broken Greek...
As soon as I learned he written a memoir, Broken Greek, I was keen to read it.
My expectations were sky high and, I am delighted to report, they were exceeded.
Broken Greek is flipping brilliant.
I don't how but he achieved it, but Pete perfectly captures his adolescence, and the associated quest for identity, all exacerbated by being a kid of first generation immigrants, whilst being in thrall to pop music.
In addition to all the nostalgia and interesting tales of what pop songs meant to young Pete Paphides, there's also quite a sad story of the dashed hopes of his parents whose desire to return home to Greece/Cyprus was repeatedly dashed by one thing or another. How Pete's mother had to deal with the death of her Mum also reveals the tragic consequences of her leaving Athens.
I could happily turn back to page one and start all over again.
5/5
Broken Greek...
'Unflinching and heartwarming' - Adam Kay
'Tender, clever and as funny as it gets ... a heart-piercing joy' - Lauren Laverne
'An exceptional coming-of-age story [...] Pete Paphides may very well have the biggest heart in Britain' - Marina Hyde
'I ADORE this utterly wonderful coming-of-age memoir. Joyful, clever, and a bit heartbreaking' - Nina Stibbe
'Heartfelt, hilarious and beautifully written, Broken Greek is a childhood memoir like no other' - Cathy Newman
'So wonderfully written, such a light touch. Drenched in sentiment yet not in the least sentimental' - John Niven
'It's brilliant. Sad, really funny and beautifully written ... just fantastic' - Alexis Petridis
'A truly beautiful book' - James O'Brien
'Intoxicating' - Kirsty Wark
'Oh, how I love Pete Paphides and this book' - Daniel Finkelstein
__________
'Do you sometimes feel like the music you're hearing is explaining your life to you?'
When Pete's parents moved from Cyprus to Birmingham in the 1960s in the hope of a better life, they had no money and only a little bit of English. They opened a fish-and-chip shop in Acocks Green. The Great Western Fish Bar is where Pete learned about coin-operated machines, male banter and Britishness.
Shy and introverted, Pete stopped speaking from age 4 to 7, and found refuge instead in the bittersweet embrace of pop songs, thanks to Top of the Pops and Dial-A-Disc. From Brotherhood of Man to UB40, from ABBA to The Police, music provided the safety net he needed to protect him from the tensions of his home life. It also helped him navigate his way around the challenges surrounding school, friendships and phobias such as visits to the barber, standing near tall buildings and Rod Hull and Emu.
With every passing year, his guilty secret became more horrifying to him: his parents were Greek, but all the things that excited him were British. And the engine of that realisation? 'Sugar Baby Love', 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart', 'Tragedy', 'Silly Games', 'Going Underground', 'Come On Eileen', and every other irresistibly thrilling chart hit blaring out of the chip shop radio.
Never have the trials and tribulations of growing up and the human need for a sense of belonging been so heart-breakingly and humorously depicted.
December 3, 2020
Being more or less the same age, I thought I'd enjoy Peter Paphides memoir Broken Greek more than I did - after all, it has had such rave reviews.
It's his coming of age story, told through the pop music he loved as he grew up. We, as many who grew up in the seventies and eighties must do, share a very similar musical background. A childhood love of Brotherhood of Man, Abba and the Barron Knights leads into Adam and the Ants closely followed by the New Romantics until The Smiths appeared to make Morrissey the spokesperson for the teenage angst of our generation.
It's an easy read and there's plenty of nostalgia to indulge in if you are the right age. He comes across as a very sensitive and anxious child, so you would have to be hard-hearted indeed to totally dislike it. But he ascribes far too much acuity and awareness to his musical choices than seems possible for a small boy. One suspects that at the time he simply liked the tunes, and his adult self is analysing them with the benefit of hindsight.
Ultimately it's entertaining enough, but it's over long and thoroughly self-indulgent.
It's his coming of age story, told through the pop music he loved as he grew up. We, as many who grew up in the seventies and eighties must do, share a very similar musical background. A childhood love of Brotherhood of Man, Abba and the Barron Knights leads into Adam and the Ants closely followed by the New Romantics until The Smiths appeared to make Morrissey the spokesperson for the teenage angst of our generation.
It's an easy read and there's plenty of nostalgia to indulge in if you are the right age. He comes across as a very sensitive and anxious child, so you would have to be hard-hearted indeed to totally dislike it. But he ascribes far too much acuity and awareness to his musical choices than seems possible for a small boy. One suspects that at the time he simply liked the tunes, and his adult self is analysing them with the benefit of hindsight.
Ultimately it's entertaining enough, but it's over long and thoroughly self-indulgent.
March 6, 2020
'Do you sometimes feel like the music you're hearing is explaining your life to you?'
And then it's all down hill from there. If you think Nick Hornby is a bit sexy then this book is for you.
A missed opportunity.
And then it's all down hill from there. If you think Nick Hornby is a bit sexy then this book is for you.
A missed opportunity.
July 8, 2020
Memoir set in 1970s/80s BIRMINGHAM (great for fans of the music of the era)
I listened to this on audiobook and it took me right back… to a childhood of pop music, Top of the Pops, Woolworths, Wimpy and being able to smoke on the top of metropolitan buses. All in the 1970s/80s.
Takis, who soon wanted to be called Peter, was the son of Greek / Greek Cypriot parents, who were, as it turns out, unhappily married. As a couple they ran various fish and chip shops around Birmingham and had to work hard to make a living. Little Peter went on holiday one Summer with his parents, to Greece and to Cyprus and he experienced carefree days with the extended family. When he came back, selective mutism descended and he only chose to speak to members of his close family. That lasted three years until – almost casually – his brother Aki intervenes and the author’s ability to speak and interact is restored. But this kind of behaviour is about keeping oneself emotionally safe and the mutism may have passed but other forms of ritual behaviour ensued.
From that point forward this is the story of the shy and prepubescent Peter cleaving his way through friendships and school, with a clear interest in the music scene of the era, an interest that gave him focus and meaning. If you grew up in the late 1970s, early 1980s you will be enchanted by the copious mentions of familiar titles and musicians! They are all there, from Abba to Dexys Midnight Runners, Brotherhood of Man to UB40 and The Police, and many, many more.
Pete’s anxiety was in part the worry that he was more in tune with English culture than with his familial traditions and somehow the disappointment shown by his parents would possibly have felt pretty intolerable. Fantasies about parental substitutes amongst the pop glitterati kept him anchored, but feeling guilty.
Wow, the era really does transport you. Dial-A-Disk, anyone remember that? You would dial a number (you had to dial 16!) and there would be an automatic play of a random disc from the Top 10. Repeat it and you might well get another randomised choice. Or not! You could easily hear the same tune twice if you were unlucky!
I found this memoir quite charming and poignant. I am glad to say that Pete went on to have a career as a music critic. If you are familiar with the music of that era, then this will be a trip back in time. Personally, I got to the point when Adam and the Ants appeared and it was then that my interest waned a little. This is a book, in its paperback form, of just short of 600 pages and so it is a lengthy tome stuffed with memorabilia from the 70s and 80s. Overall, a delight for those looking for a memoir of growing up at a time when the pop scene was so vibrant and eclectic. And how heart-rending is that cute little boy on the cover, looking so shyly yet keenly at the camera!
I listened to this on audiobook and it took me right back… to a childhood of pop music, Top of the Pops, Woolworths, Wimpy and being able to smoke on the top of metropolitan buses. All in the 1970s/80s.
Takis, who soon wanted to be called Peter, was the son of Greek / Greek Cypriot parents, who were, as it turns out, unhappily married. As a couple they ran various fish and chip shops around Birmingham and had to work hard to make a living. Little Peter went on holiday one Summer with his parents, to Greece and to Cyprus and he experienced carefree days with the extended family. When he came back, selective mutism descended and he only chose to speak to members of his close family. That lasted three years until – almost casually – his brother Aki intervenes and the author’s ability to speak and interact is restored. But this kind of behaviour is about keeping oneself emotionally safe and the mutism may have passed but other forms of ritual behaviour ensued.
From that point forward this is the story of the shy and prepubescent Peter cleaving his way through friendships and school, with a clear interest in the music scene of the era, an interest that gave him focus and meaning. If you grew up in the late 1970s, early 1980s you will be enchanted by the copious mentions of familiar titles and musicians! They are all there, from Abba to Dexys Midnight Runners, Brotherhood of Man to UB40 and The Police, and many, many more.
Pete’s anxiety was in part the worry that he was more in tune with English culture than with his familial traditions and somehow the disappointment shown by his parents would possibly have felt pretty intolerable. Fantasies about parental substitutes amongst the pop glitterati kept him anchored, but feeling guilty.
Wow, the era really does transport you. Dial-A-Disk, anyone remember that? You would dial a number (you had to dial 16!) and there would be an automatic play of a random disc from the Top 10. Repeat it and you might well get another randomised choice. Or not! You could easily hear the same tune twice if you were unlucky!
I found this memoir quite charming and poignant. I am glad to say that Pete went on to have a career as a music critic. If you are familiar with the music of that era, then this will be a trip back in time. Personally, I got to the point when Adam and the Ants appeared and it was then that my interest waned a little. This is a book, in its paperback form, of just short of 600 pages and so it is a lengthy tome stuffed with memorabilia from the 70s and 80s. Overall, a delight for those looking for a memoir of growing up at a time when the pop scene was so vibrant and eclectic. And how heart-rending is that cute little boy on the cover, looking so shyly yet keenly at the camera!
June 23, 2020
A lot can happen in 600 pages. Frodo got pretty far into Mordor in that time. Plenty of people died in Westeros. I’ve not read War and Peace, but imagine there was a fair amount of both war and peace happening over 600 pages.
Sometimes almost nothing can happen in 600 pages, and a book can still feel epic. Broken Greek is one of those books. It’s the story of a kid growing up on the outskirts of Birmingham between the ages of seven and twelve. A kid with a Cypriot dad and a Greek mother who run a succession of fish and chip shops, and an older brother. That’s pretty much it. There’s no major narrative arc. No major obstacles to overcome.
However, if you’re the kind of person who grew up obsessing about pop music - who can still remember the first time they heard a certain song, or where they bought each and every album and single in their collection, then this is the book for you. Pete writes beautifully about that sweet spot in your childhood, where you’re working out who you are and what you like, and how, for some people, music is the anchor that all those transitions rotate around. From early obsessions with UK comedy group The Baron Knights, to a long-lasting obsession with ABBA, forays into the poppier end of postpunk via The Teardrop Explodes and Orange Juice, and the glorious Dexys Midnight Runners.
It’s not often I’ll stop mid-paragraph, and force my wife to listen as I read a paragraph out loud. But this happened multiple times over the last couple of weeks. Paphides has a lovely turn of phrase, and this is a genuinely funny and truely heartwarming book. Highly recommend.
Sometimes almost nothing can happen in 600 pages, and a book can still feel epic. Broken Greek is one of those books. It’s the story of a kid growing up on the outskirts of Birmingham between the ages of seven and twelve. A kid with a Cypriot dad and a Greek mother who run a succession of fish and chip shops, and an older brother. That’s pretty much it. There’s no major narrative arc. No major obstacles to overcome.
However, if you’re the kind of person who grew up obsessing about pop music - who can still remember the first time they heard a certain song, or where they bought each and every album and single in their collection, then this is the book for you. Pete writes beautifully about that sweet spot in your childhood, where you’re working out who you are and what you like, and how, for some people, music is the anchor that all those transitions rotate around. From early obsessions with UK comedy group The Baron Knights, to a long-lasting obsession with ABBA, forays into the poppier end of postpunk via The Teardrop Explodes and Orange Juice, and the glorious Dexys Midnight Runners.
It’s not often I’ll stop mid-paragraph, and force my wife to listen as I read a paragraph out loud. But this happened multiple times over the last couple of weeks. Paphides has a lovely turn of phrase, and this is a genuinely funny and truely heartwarming book. Highly recommend.
January 8, 2020
A touching, honest and hugely entertaining coming-of-age memoir with a brilliant and cleverly interwoven soundtrack. Excellent.
June 23, 2020
As someone whose childhood in 1970s Britain was soundtracked by the likes of Bowie, ABBA and The Jam, I was always going to fall squarely within the target market for Broken Greek, the glorious coming-of-age memoir by the respected music journalist, Pete Paphides. However, when Gordon, my music-obsessed neighbour, mentioned to me back in May that it was shaping up to be his book of the year, I knew I had to read it pretty damn quick. And he was right to praise it. This is such an engaging book, full of warmth, honesty and humour; it just might turn out to be one of my books of the year, too.
Ostensibly a childhood memoir, Broken Greek offers a moving account of Paphides’s upbringing in the suburbs of Birmingham in the 1970s and early ‘80s – ‘a story of chip shops and pop songs,’ as the subtitle accurately declares.
Back in the early ‘60s, Paphides’s parents – Chris, a traditional Cypriot with socialist values, and Victoria, an emotionally intuitive woman from Athens – move to England with little in the way of money or secure job prospects. When a potential contact fails to materialise, the couple fall into the fish and chip business, ultimately scraping together enough money for an outlet in Acocks Green. The move to Britain was originally intended to be a temporary one, with Chris harbouring ambitions to return to Cyprus where he would open a garage using profits from the couple’s time in England. However, a combination of the realities of working life and the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in the early 1970s ultimately puts the kibosh on any plans for that.
With mum and dad working all hours at the chippy, young Pete and his older brother, Aki, have ample time on their hands to try and make sense of the world around them. As the book opens, Pete – or Takis as he is known at this point; the name-change to ‘Pete’ comes later – is in the midst of a long silent phase (a 3-year period that eventually ends through a well-judged intervention by Aki). It’s an astute opening, one that secures the reader’s emotional investment in the book’s protagonist right from the start. Pete – a quiet, emotionally sensitive boy at heart – finds something in music that speaks to him very clearly, a deep sense of connection/reassurance that touches a raw nerve.
To read the rest of my review, please visit:
https://jacquiwine.wordpress.com/2020...
Ostensibly a childhood memoir, Broken Greek offers a moving account of Paphides’s upbringing in the suburbs of Birmingham in the 1970s and early ‘80s – ‘a story of chip shops and pop songs,’ as the subtitle accurately declares.
Back in the early ‘60s, Paphides’s parents – Chris, a traditional Cypriot with socialist values, and Victoria, an emotionally intuitive woman from Athens – move to England with little in the way of money or secure job prospects. When a potential contact fails to materialise, the couple fall into the fish and chip business, ultimately scraping together enough money for an outlet in Acocks Green. The move to Britain was originally intended to be a temporary one, with Chris harbouring ambitions to return to Cyprus where he would open a garage using profits from the couple’s time in England. However, a combination of the realities of working life and the Turkish invasion of Cyprus in the early 1970s ultimately puts the kibosh on any plans for that.
With mum and dad working all hours at the chippy, young Pete and his older brother, Aki, have ample time on their hands to try and make sense of the world around them. As the book opens, Pete – or Takis as he is known at this point; the name-change to ‘Pete’ comes later – is in the midst of a long silent phase (a 3-year period that eventually ends through a well-judged intervention by Aki). It’s an astute opening, one that secures the reader’s emotional investment in the book’s protagonist right from the start. Pete – a quiet, emotionally sensitive boy at heart – finds something in music that speaks to him very clearly, a deep sense of connection/reassurance that touches a raw nerve.
To read the rest of my review, please visit:
https://jacquiwine.wordpress.com/2020...
July 2, 2020
I'll be honest; even as a music fanatic, I've never actually read any of Peter Paphides' writing before. At least not knowingly. After I began reading this book I did come across an article about Daft Punk's album 'Random Access Memories' that he'd written for the Guardian, which I didn't find particularly agreeable.
But that doesn't matter in the context of this book, because it's enjoyable all the same. As it's praise from fellow journalists and readers suggests, it is frequently funny, deeply personal and heart-warmingly honest. The moments where he describes his connection with the music, and how he used it to mirror and make sense of his own life both at the time and now, are almost always beautiful. Even though many of the artists he writes about don't particularly resonate with me (the book is entirely based in the late '70s/early '80s, up until Paphides was about 13 years old), there are plenty of connections and feelings that I recognise as being the same for me with my favourite bands and music.
Because of that slight disconnect in the interest of the specified music, and sometimes laborious detail about events which actually aren't that exciting, I did find myself occasionally zoning out. But the way he writes about emotional traumas within his own family and with friends, alongside the sheer joy and nostalgia that comes with activities as varied as video recording 'Top of the Pops' and collecting football stickers, can be as moving as they can be self-deprecatingly funny.
But that doesn't matter in the context of this book, because it's enjoyable all the same. As it's praise from fellow journalists and readers suggests, it is frequently funny, deeply personal and heart-warmingly honest. The moments where he describes his connection with the music, and how he used it to mirror and make sense of his own life both at the time and now, are almost always beautiful. Even though many of the artists he writes about don't particularly resonate with me (the book is entirely based in the late '70s/early '80s, up until Paphides was about 13 years old), there are plenty of connections and feelings that I recognise as being the same for me with my favourite bands and music.
Because of that slight disconnect in the interest of the specified music, and sometimes laborious detail about events which actually aren't that exciting, I did find myself occasionally zoning out. But the way he writes about emotional traumas within his own family and with friends, alongside the sheer joy and nostalgia that comes with activities as varied as video recording 'Top of the Pops' and collecting football stickers, can be as moving as they can be self-deprecatingly funny.
August 6, 2020
Interesting but far too long and detailed about really mundane issues. I didn’t finish.
August 3, 2025
4.5, and only because I am not , and have never been really ’into ’ music. I remember many of these songs but they left me mostly indifferent; only adding to my conviction that I was different from all other teenagers. However this is so much more than a recollection of 70s and 80s music; it is a touching but hilarious account of a young boy's efforts to navigate childhood, teenagedom, his parents ’ unhappy marriage, the difficulties of being an immigrant family. We can all identify with parts of this. The icing on the cake for me ? It's set in ’my’ part of Birmingham and Paphides went to the school where I would teach 15 years later.
November 12, 2024
Absolutely wonderful memoir of growing up Greek in the UK and the impact of popular music on Pete’s life through the 70’s and 80’s. Although Pete is a little younger than me, a lot of the musical memories resonated with me.
October 2, 2024
I enjoyed this. For anyone who grew up in the 70s/80s in the UK and loves music I can highly recommend it.
If you are in addition first generation British with Greek Cypriot parents then this will be like a chronicle of your life. So much of this felt familiar in good ways and in bad ways. It made me laugh out loud and made me emotional too.
If you are in addition first generation British with Greek Cypriot parents then this will be like a chronicle of your life. So much of this felt familiar in good ways and in bad ways. It made me laugh out loud and made me emotional too.
March 14, 2020
'Do you sometimes feel like the music you're hearing is explaining your life to you?'
I absolutely adored this book. I received an ARC from Quercus at the start of the year (thanks!) and put off reading it for a few weeks as it is quite lengthy, but then the amazing reviews started to flood in and I just had to throw myself in. I'm surprised at how quickly I've got through it - I found it extremely readable, and part of me wishes that there was more for me to delve into!
Initially, my interest for the book came from the fact that, as a passionate music fan running my own music blog, Pete's work as a music journalist really intrigues me. Anybody who has turned my spare-time hobby into a real job is a legend in my eyes.
The book however isn't a biography, but more of a coming-of-age memoir, focusing on his school years. It's certainly a must-read for music fans, especially if you grew up in the 80s, but you needn't be a music obsessive to enjoy it, and I think that Pete has bridged the gap between prospective audiences beautifully. While music runs seamlessly through his story, as he recalls precise details of his musical discoveries, at the heart of the story remain issues of identity, friendship, family, sexuality and more. Like the lifeline and lifelong companion that it is to Pete, and to many of us, the music is always there, but never so loud as to take away from these other themes.
An element that I particularly loved about the book was that although I grew up decades later than Pete, I could feel his infectious passion for music shining through the pages. I'll admit to not having listened to anywhere near enough of the artists and tracks mentioned through the book as I'd like to have (the likes of ABBA, Queen and The Beatles excepted...) but despite this, I could enjoy and relate when reading about Pete's discovery of the artists and their music. All I could think while reading was that if I was getting so much out of it, somebody who had grown up and had a similar experience to Pete, would be reading their life reflected back to them, which sounds pretty special to me. Luckily for me, Pete has made a Spotify playlist with every single track mentioned through the book in it. 619 tracks, 41 hours of music - an indication of just how much the music clearly meant, and still means, to Pete, to be able to retain so much of this. And a LOT of recommended listening for me to get through.
Basically this is really very brilliant and I'm delighted for Pete to be receiving such a wonderful response to it - it's really deserved!
I absolutely adored this book. I received an ARC from Quercus at the start of the year (thanks!) and put off reading it for a few weeks as it is quite lengthy, but then the amazing reviews started to flood in and I just had to throw myself in. I'm surprised at how quickly I've got through it - I found it extremely readable, and part of me wishes that there was more for me to delve into!
Initially, my interest for the book came from the fact that, as a passionate music fan running my own music blog, Pete's work as a music journalist really intrigues me. Anybody who has turned my spare-time hobby into a real job is a legend in my eyes.
The book however isn't a biography, but more of a coming-of-age memoir, focusing on his school years. It's certainly a must-read for music fans, especially if you grew up in the 80s, but you needn't be a music obsessive to enjoy it, and I think that Pete has bridged the gap between prospective audiences beautifully. While music runs seamlessly through his story, as he recalls precise details of his musical discoveries, at the heart of the story remain issues of identity, friendship, family, sexuality and more. Like the lifeline and lifelong companion that it is to Pete, and to many of us, the music is always there, but never so loud as to take away from these other themes.
An element that I particularly loved about the book was that although I grew up decades later than Pete, I could feel his infectious passion for music shining through the pages. I'll admit to not having listened to anywhere near enough of the artists and tracks mentioned through the book as I'd like to have (the likes of ABBA, Queen and The Beatles excepted...) but despite this, I could enjoy and relate when reading about Pete's discovery of the artists and their music. All I could think while reading was that if I was getting so much out of it, somebody who had grown up and had a similar experience to Pete, would be reading their life reflected back to them, which sounds pretty special to me. Luckily for me, Pete has made a Spotify playlist with every single track mentioned through the book in it. 619 tracks, 41 hours of music - an indication of just how much the music clearly meant, and still means, to Pete, to be able to retain so much of this. And a LOT of recommended listening for me to get through.
Basically this is really very brilliant and I'm delighted for Pete to be receiving such a wonderful response to it - it's really deserved!
March 19, 2021
It takes a bit of front to write a 580 page autobiography when you're only really known from your wife's ramblings in the Times on Saturday - but Pop Music Journo Pete Paphides does it well.
A few things work its favour for me - he is slightly older than me but I get all the cultural references and he is also from Birmingham - so I get all the locational detail. He also has a quite similar sense of humour.
Its a growing up tail up to when Pete is 13 in the late seventies and early 80s - as well as the pop music, we have the other cultural reference points like VCRs, Channel 4, the Tube and The Young Ones.
And if you want a reminder of how the pop music was - there is a playlist on Spotify that has the songs in order that they appear in the book. Pete is nothing more than eclectic - his love of Abba is unapologetic but amongst the brilliance of the Jam/Dexys/Madness - there's an awful lot of Cliff Richard. And the less said about the Baron Knights, the better.
For a book so huge, it needs to really go somewhere and have a purpose - but as the pages dwindle down - you can tell nothing is going to happen. If it wasn't for the chronology of the singles, you could probably read the chapters in any order.
A few things work its favour for me - he is slightly older than me but I get all the cultural references and he is also from Birmingham - so I get all the locational detail. He also has a quite similar sense of humour.
Its a growing up tail up to when Pete is 13 in the late seventies and early 80s - as well as the pop music, we have the other cultural reference points like VCRs, Channel 4, the Tube and The Young Ones.
And if you want a reminder of how the pop music was - there is a playlist on Spotify that has the songs in order that they appear in the book. Pete is nothing more than eclectic - his love of Abba is unapologetic but amongst the brilliance of the Jam/Dexys/Madness - there's an awful lot of Cliff Richard. And the less said about the Baron Knights, the better.
For a book so huge, it needs to really go somewhere and have a purpose - but as the pages dwindle down - you can tell nothing is going to happen. If it wasn't for the chronology of the singles, you could probably read the chapters in any order.
June 30, 2020
I expected this book to be great at capturing the magic of music. I didn’t expect it to be such a profound exploration of the human condition and the way music can explain you to yourself.
Peter Paphides effortlessly weaves together a coming of age tale with brilliant observations about pop culture and snippets of music mythology, creating an immersive journey which is at once deeply personal and universal. As a brummie I recognised a lot of the landmarks and as a music fan I adored the backstories to some artists I’ve been a casual fan of, but the real joy of this book is the shifting friendships, the family heartaches, the way Peter describes people with such unrelenting empathy and gentle yet piercing understanding.
It is, in short, an absolutely astounding work with the kind of attention to detail that would be equally at home in a piece of historical fiction and a storytelling prowess that would befit a best selling novel. Favourite read of the year so far, by some considerable margin.
Peter Paphides effortlessly weaves together a coming of age tale with brilliant observations about pop culture and snippets of music mythology, creating an immersive journey which is at once deeply personal and universal. As a brummie I recognised a lot of the landmarks and as a music fan I adored the backstories to some artists I’ve been a casual fan of, but the real joy of this book is the shifting friendships, the family heartaches, the way Peter describes people with such unrelenting empathy and gentle yet piercing understanding.
It is, in short, an absolutely astounding work with the kind of attention to detail that would be equally at home in a piece of historical fiction and a storytelling prowess that would befit a best selling novel. Favourite read of the year so far, by some considerable margin.
June 3, 2020
My mum bought me this for my birthday and I didn’t know what to expect. It did take a while to begin with to really get into it, but all it’s references to music and an era of British culture, that even now has so much importance, is really what hooked me in.
Sometimes it read like reading a music mag of the chart every day, first reviews and impressions. Other times, it’s a heartfelt look at what growing up in Britain in the 70s/80s was like.
But the themes that keep you going throughout are the ones that deal with identity, and figuring out who you are before you hit puberty. Even though it was set in a different decade to the one I grew up in, there was so much to relate to.
Sometimes it read like reading a music mag of the chart every day, first reviews and impressions. Other times, it’s a heartfelt look at what growing up in Britain in the 70s/80s was like.
But the themes that keep you going throughout are the ones that deal with identity, and figuring out who you are before you hit puberty. Even though it was set in a different decade to the one I grew up in, there was so much to relate to.
July 20, 2021
Overall I was very disappointed with this book. The hype promised a a trip down memory lane and barrels of laughs. There were certainly a lot of memories but as for a barrel, a pint glass might be more accurate.
Yes, there were some funny passages but the endorsements at the front of the book were very misleading.
There is some fine writing here but the majority of the book drags. At no point did it win me over, losing me in the era. As someone the same age as the author who grew up with the same bands, engaging me should have been an open goal. He missed.
It’s far too long and bogged down with some dull detail. A friend told me that she skim read it, I wish I had too.
Yes, there were some funny passages but the endorsements at the front of the book were very misleading.
There is some fine writing here but the majority of the book drags. At no point did it win me over, losing me in the era. As someone the same age as the author who grew up with the same bands, engaging me should have been an open goal. He missed.
It’s far too long and bogged down with some dull detail. A friend told me that she skim read it, I wish I had too.
April 25, 2020
Pete Paphides' warm, immersive childhood memoir is a love letter to the pop songs - both cool and uncool - that spoke to him, a young, emotional Greek Cypriot boy, struggling to understand his place in his home, school and adopted country. Music is how he makes sense of his life, and his vivid, funny and poignant memories are all tied up with the records he bought from the bargain bin and the songs he painstakingly recorded from the radio. This is my era, and he describes it with absolute clarity, heart and soul. Painfully honest, fun, wistful and affecting. Loved it.
June 4, 2020
This book is brilliant - about the struggles of a second generation Greek Cypriot coming of age in the late 1970s. All the growing pains set against a musical backdrop of songs the author identified with and helped him make sense of the world. Funny and relatable.
My attempt at bringing some of the songs together
https://music.apple.com/sg/playlist/b...
My attempt at bringing some of the songs together
https://music.apple.com/sg/playlist/b...
August 10, 2020
This was pretty long and not much happened, but somehow I was quite affected by this story of a very anxious child in love with pop music, his cool indie older brother and his parents wondering whether the hard slog of running a chip shop was worth moving away from Greece for; maybe because it also seemed plausible to a very young me that ABBA might be my parents.
March 23, 2020
This book is bostin.
Read
August 27, 2021Did not finish, struggled to half way through.
May 9, 2025
I loved this autobiography-cum-memoir of growing up in Birmingham. This is a lovely letter to the music, friends, and older brother - but particularly the music - that help you navigate your way through childhood. Music journalist Pete Paphides is a similar age to me with a keen attention to lyrics so the songs that he grew up with are the songs that I grew up with, the records he bought are often the same as the ones I bought, and the TV he watched is often the same as what I watched. A fabulous journey into the popular culture of the 197Os and 1980s all with a bubbling undercurrent of chip fat, schoolboy violence, and parental tension.
April 1, 2021
As a Brummie of a certain age, it was inevitable, perhaps, that I would end up giving this one five stars. At times it was hilarious, other times distressing, and on occasion quite moving. I just wish he hadn't changed teams and supported Manchester United when Aston Villa was clearly the safer bet.
January 12, 2024
A very enjoyable memoir but very long, even if it only covered his first years.
Once Pete got into the music of punk / the eighties, I skipped some of the music analysis and lines from the songs, as I’m a Seventies girl and didn’t know all of them, but I loved the details of his life. I just hope he publishes a follow up book, as this ended when he was 13.
Once Pete got into the music of punk / the eighties, I skipped some of the music analysis and lines from the songs, as I’m a Seventies girl and didn’t know all of them, but I loved the details of his life. I just hope he publishes a follow up book, as this ended when he was 13.
July 8, 2021
This book wasn't quite what I had assumed it was. I had thought I was picking up a memoir of a music journalist about how he came to write about music for a living, with a sprinkling of anecdotes revealing the personalities of the various people he must have met along the way.
Maybe he'll get around to writing that one day, but this is not that book. Instead, it is very much a childhood memoir, about his experience of growing up in the mid-late 70s and early 80s as the child of Greek/Cypriot immigrants, seemingly trapped in an unhappy marriage, working all the hours they could in a succession of Birmingham chip shops.
And, notwithstanding the fact that my parents were not immigrants, that I don't even remember going into a chip shop until I moved north at the age of about 9 and I grew up ten years after Paphides and in a much more rural setting, I thought this book did about as good a job as any I've read about the experience of boyhood between late primary school and early secondary school. Certainly it brought back to mind aspects of my own experience at that same age that I don't think I've thought about in decades.
Something that he and I had in common was the shared love of music – the soundtrack to our lives was different and many of the songs that he mentions in the book mean little or nothing to me but the sense that, at a certain age, the question of where something charts, what is being played on Radio 1 and who is or is not finding success is somehow of almost existential importance is well-captured. As too, for that matter is the fact that it's an age before kids learn to care about what is 'cool', what it's ok to admit to liking – or perhaps more accurately, it's an age where the criteria that might be applied in deciding what passes that test can be immensely idiosyncratic. I have no idea who the Barron Knights were, but from Paphides' description of it, they sound as if they might not have been a million miles away from such pop-spooks of yester-year as Morris Minor and the Majors (anyone else remember Stutter-Rap?)
He captures equally well the sense at that age of having not quite yet settled on who your 'tribe' are. So around about his second year in secondary school, he is simultaneously hanging around with shop-lifting Terry and Flynn and their possibly psychopathic mate Tookey, who on at least one occasion appears to come close to getting them into real trouble when they start offering their services as 'odd jobs men' to anyone who'll take them, and to the much more academically inclined Vijay and William, as well as being what appears to be a kind of pet mascot to Ged and her older friends (it is perhaps significant that Ged and her mother are credited at the end of the book with having assisted in its writing, indicating that in contrast with the various other characters who wander on and off the page, she remained in touch with the author).
I have to admit that the one thing I didn't feel much inclined to do at the end of the book was to sit down and listen to the 600+ song playlist of every single track that gets mentioned in the book. For me at least, this was very much more a book about the impact that music can have on you – particularly at a young age, rather than a book which succeeded in interesting me in the particular albums to which Paphides refers. Perhaps that's just because I've already made my mind up about his beloved Abba (I can sort of admire what they're doing on a purely technical level, but I've never actually enjoyed listening to them) or his later excitement about Dexy's Midnight Runners (he half acknowledges that perhaps you just had to be there). He was, on the other hand, absolutely bang-on about the impact that hearing something different from what you've heard up to that point can have at the age of thirteen or fourteen:
“I don't suppose there was anything new about any of my feelings for these songs. If I'd been ten years older, it might have been David Bowie pledging to ease the pain of the knives that 'seem to lacerate your brain' on 'Rock and Roll Suicide' from Ziggy Stardust. Ten years later, it might have been the secular consolation hymns of REM's Automatic For The People. But at the end of 1982, Too-Rye-Ay rode into my interior world like the cavalry.”
Interleaved into all this is Paphides' slow dawning realisation that the adults in his world are human too. In particular, the fact that his parents clearly feel trapped where they are – they married young and when they emigrated to England it was surely not with the intention of spending their every evening serving chips to drunks coming out of the local night spots of Birmingham. It seems fairly clear by the end of the book that his mother, at least, made a mistake in marrying and I was actually a little surprised to find them both credited with having helped in the writing of the book. I rather hope that some time in the intervening 35 years they found a happier life, be it together or apart...
So as long as you're not looking for a book about music journalism, I'd say this is worth picking up.
Maybe he'll get around to writing that one day, but this is not that book. Instead, it is very much a childhood memoir, about his experience of growing up in the mid-late 70s and early 80s as the child of Greek/Cypriot immigrants, seemingly trapped in an unhappy marriage, working all the hours they could in a succession of Birmingham chip shops.
And, notwithstanding the fact that my parents were not immigrants, that I don't even remember going into a chip shop until I moved north at the age of about 9 and I grew up ten years after Paphides and in a much more rural setting, I thought this book did about as good a job as any I've read about the experience of boyhood between late primary school and early secondary school. Certainly it brought back to mind aspects of my own experience at that same age that I don't think I've thought about in decades.
Something that he and I had in common was the shared love of music – the soundtrack to our lives was different and many of the songs that he mentions in the book mean little or nothing to me but the sense that, at a certain age, the question of where something charts, what is being played on Radio 1 and who is or is not finding success is somehow of almost existential importance is well-captured. As too, for that matter is the fact that it's an age before kids learn to care about what is 'cool', what it's ok to admit to liking – or perhaps more accurately, it's an age where the criteria that might be applied in deciding what passes that test can be immensely idiosyncratic. I have no idea who the Barron Knights were, but from Paphides' description of it, they sound as if they might not have been a million miles away from such pop-spooks of yester-year as Morris Minor and the Majors (anyone else remember Stutter-Rap?)
He captures equally well the sense at that age of having not quite yet settled on who your 'tribe' are. So around about his second year in secondary school, he is simultaneously hanging around with shop-lifting Terry and Flynn and their possibly psychopathic mate Tookey, who on at least one occasion appears to come close to getting them into real trouble when they start offering their services as 'odd jobs men' to anyone who'll take them, and to the much more academically inclined Vijay and William, as well as being what appears to be a kind of pet mascot to Ged and her older friends (it is perhaps significant that Ged and her mother are credited at the end of the book with having assisted in its writing, indicating that in contrast with the various other characters who wander on and off the page, she remained in touch with the author).
I have to admit that the one thing I didn't feel much inclined to do at the end of the book was to sit down and listen to the 600+ song playlist of every single track that gets mentioned in the book. For me at least, this was very much more a book about the impact that music can have on you – particularly at a young age, rather than a book which succeeded in interesting me in the particular albums to which Paphides refers. Perhaps that's just because I've already made my mind up about his beloved Abba (I can sort of admire what they're doing on a purely technical level, but I've never actually enjoyed listening to them) or his later excitement about Dexy's Midnight Runners (he half acknowledges that perhaps you just had to be there). He was, on the other hand, absolutely bang-on about the impact that hearing something different from what you've heard up to that point can have at the age of thirteen or fourteen:
“I don't suppose there was anything new about any of my feelings for these songs. If I'd been ten years older, it might have been David Bowie pledging to ease the pain of the knives that 'seem to lacerate your brain' on 'Rock and Roll Suicide' from Ziggy Stardust. Ten years later, it might have been the secular consolation hymns of REM's Automatic For The People. But at the end of 1982, Too-Rye-Ay rode into my interior world like the cavalry.”
Interleaved into all this is Paphides' slow dawning realisation that the adults in his world are human too. In particular, the fact that his parents clearly feel trapped where they are – they married young and when they emigrated to England it was surely not with the intention of spending their every evening serving chips to drunks coming out of the local night spots of Birmingham. It seems fairly clear by the end of the book that his mother, at least, made a mistake in marrying and I was actually a little surprised to find them both credited with having helped in the writing of the book. I rather hope that some time in the intervening 35 years they found a happier life, be it together or apart...
So as long as you're not looking for a book about music journalism, I'd say this is worth picking up.
October 15, 2021
I loved this book , I’m slightly older than Pete but loved the nostalgia this book stirred in me …
“Having had their heads turned by punk, founding members of Duran Duran, Stephen Duffy and Nick Rhodes, accompanied by another local musician Dave Kusworth, would spend long afternoons in the very same Rackhams, living out their Warholian fantasies among the neon-lit”
“Having had their heads turned by punk, founding members of Duran Duran, Stephen Duffy and Nick Rhodes, accompanied by another local musician Dave Kusworth, would spend long afternoons in the very same Rackhams, living out their Warholian fantasies among the neon-lit”
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