Did any musician in the Seventies fly so free as John Martyn did on Bless The Weather, Solid Air, Inside Out and One World? Did any fall so far? Small Hours is an intimate, unflinching biography of one of the great maverick artists. Though Martyn never had a hit single, his extraordinary voice, innovative guitar playing and profoundly soulful songs secured his status as a much admired pioneer. Covered by Eric Clapton, revered by Lee Scratch Perry, produced by Phil Collins, Martyn influenced several generations of musicians, but beneath the songs lay a complicated and volatile personality. He lived his life the same way he made music: improvising as he went; scattering brilliance, beauty, rage and destruction in his wake. Drawing on almost 100 new interviews, Small Hours is a raw and utterly gripping account of sixty years of daredevil creativity, soaring highs and sometimes unconscionable lows.
He was a nasty piece of work, the usual boring stuff, coercive controlling wife beater, violent drunk, cokehead, abandoner of his children, wrecker of lives, but I have a ton of his music, most of which is so gentle and beautiful, exquisite melancholy foggy slurrings, heartfelt soulful folky electronics, a unique blend, I recommend it all (up to 1982, ignore the rest) and of course the contrast between the beauty and this beast, the great music and the terrible human who made it, is another restatement of the same dilemma we all come up against all the time. Should we avoid these bad people and their lovely art? (And also avoid reading those old books with their casual racism and sexism?) There’s no answer. I really don’t want to hear that as in some repetitious replaying of a romantic myth it was their “demons” that at the same time allowed them access to their creative fires, that you couldn’t have the gorgeous songs without the wifebeating, that kindness leads to blandness.
So, goodbye John Martyn, it wasn’t nice knowing you, but it was great listening to you for these many years.
This is as good a short sharp biography as JM deserves. Might be a very painful read for any fan who doesn’t know what he was like.
The book tells the tale of his life and music well. I'm a casual fan of Martyn's music but always liked what I'd heard was interested to know more. He seems to have been cut from the same cloth as Mark E Smith - capable of great gigs or terrible gigs depending on how much drink had been consumed, someone who ploughed their own path without caring much about audience expectations, was wildly inconsistent (a lifelong socialist who never paid a penny to help his kids) and someone who ultimately seemed to become trapped in a character of their own creation. The parts about the abuse he handed out to members of his family are hard to read. The pain in some of the interviews with his children is still very real, several years after his death. As I've been reading I've listened to more of his music and there are many more of his albums I need to dig into.
Thomson continues his series of top notch music biographies with the late John Martyn.
The word enigmatic seems inadequate to describe Martyn; where the wonderful free-spirited music lives alongside someone way too familiar with the darker side of life.
For musical skills, the term 'genius' might have been appropriate. For life skills, 'c*nt' would have been on the button.
An excellent biography that gets to the heart of John Martyn who turned out a run of truly stunning albums n the 1970s but struggled thereafter to match that.
Thomson is unflinchingly unsparing in detailing Martyn’s many character flaws, his addictions and abusive relationships with women. Complex and contradictory he may have been and a product of his upbringing in a more macho era but that does not excuse his behaviour and I don’t buy the argument that being a creative genius somehow excuses or is a reason for it.
The book is good at describing how some of those albums were composed and recorded including the now seminal Solid Air and Martyn’s generosity to fellow musicians. He will always remain an all time favourite artist of mine because at its best his music is truly magically sublime.
I met John after a low key gig sometime in the '90s. He was mellow and in a reflective mood. 'Nobody loves me anymore', he complained. After reading Graeme Thomson's book it's easy to see why. But if you can fall out of love with the man you can never fall out of love with the music and this book offers a well balanced insight into both.
Rather than being too academic, this bio relies on interviews. I think it is stronger because of it. it feels more authentic . I am left feeling that Martyn was a product of his time, but the fact that he was a leopard that couldn't change his spots ( Particularly, in terms of alcholism and his attitudes to women). A pity that he moved more and more into MOR territory as his career developed, but he has left a lot behind and artists like John Smith and Katie Spencer are carrying the torch.
This is likely as good a biography of John Martyn as can be written. It portrays him honestly without being blind to his failings. The author is knowledgeable about his music and can convey why he likes it without ignoring his shortcomings. John was always a contradictory character throughout his life and this is captured honestly
Well written and engaging book about a Scottish singer's descent from brilliance. If, like me, you like to live a rock n roll lifestyle vicariously by way of biographies, well here's a walk on the dark side.
A really well handled biography. Martyn is portrayed as a complete nightmare, and yet a neat trick this book pulled was making me care less about his excesses whilst giving me a much deeper appreciation of his musical talent, his output and influence.
My friend Paul sent me this as we were both fans of Martyn’s music. He was a truly awful person and this book doesn’t shirk from exploring that awfulness.
It's a well researched book with lots of insights from a large number of people who were in Johns orbit from time to time. Many of the negative epithets thrown at JM throughout the read are possibly overdone, provided as they are by people embittered by life or circumstances that may not necessarily have been caused directly by John, although the author seems happy to accept their moans and grievances at face value. Without spoiling it by naming names, some of the principals involved did seem rather willing to party as enthusiastically as the man himself and yet blame him for their comedowns and defeats. There's no doubt John was difficult to deal with and a handful, but there is a lot of 'buyers regret' with some of those who wanted to sail the high seas of Johns gifts and talents, but whom cast him asunder as a monster when the predictable side effects of embracing such a lifestyle came to not suit them any more; whereas the man himself rarely seems to throw out any slings and arrows towards others. I have read a Nick Drake biography (not the one by this author yet but plan to do so soon), and the part of this book that explores the relationship between John and Nick gave me a startling moment of clarity surrounding possible reasons for Nicks demeanour and subsequent demise. I wonder if anyone else might sense the same thing I did as they read those passages of writing? All in all its a well-written book which seeks to be warts and all, but one which I found to be slightly tilted in favour of those with grudges towards John and his memory, given the 'curly haired boy' is no longer able to provide his version of events.
I knew little about John Martyn's latter years, having moved to Australia in the mid seventies. I was deeply shocked by the state of his health at the end. Solid Air was a sublime work and I appreciated the detail in this biography of how the albums were made and who John worked with. I had no idea for example that he had worked with Phil Collins. We saw him twice in Australia, the first concert was magnificent, for the second he was suffering from "jet lag" and it was a mess. This book illustrates the affection in which he was held by so many but doesn't shy away from describing the people he hurt and his violence towards his partners plus his neglect of his children. I have two criticisms. I disagree that John's body of work completely declined towards the end of his life because he produced the wonderful, sensitive, thoughtful album The Apprentice which is barely described in the book, merely allotted a paragraph. My second criticism is that there is no index. To write a biography and not provide an index is unbelievable.
Pretty sure it was a girlfriend who introduced me to Martyn's music back in the 70s. I still have Bless The Weather, Inside Out & Solid Air on vinyl. They are enjoyable albums & the noises he got out of a guitar were unique. But my interest faded after them. As someone who devours music biogs I thought one on Martyn might be interesting. It was, but he was such a problematic character - sweet & considerate one moment yet vile, abusive & violent the next - that I found it a challenge to complete the journey in his company. He was also one of those artists who seem to spend way too much time sabotaging their own careers. As I started the book I got those albums out for another listen, but I haven't played them yet.
Well written, informative, generous and perhaps a little too forgiving of its subject. John Martyn was a hugely influential talent and a complex man - gifted, passionate, a one off, sensitive, capable of touching the elemental and sublime through his music, but also angry, uniquely selfish and insecure with an unenviable appetite for destruction. I read on, hoping for atonement, redemption, some epiphany perhaps allowing him to transform himself back into that hurt little boy and heal before the rage set in. So sorry, for him, and all his family, that it never came. I shall listen to, 'Solid Air,' and imagine it were otherwise.
A canter through his recordings with moments cherry picked from a literature review of the contemporary music press. Part 2 gives greater weight to his personal decline, spanning alcohol, drug and domestic abuse; financial woes, brawls at home and on the road and patchy recordings. The author shares my appraisal that Grace and Danger represented his last great album. A superlative musician and a troubled and, at times, a lousy partner, father and bandmate. A sad demise but a magnificent body of work.
A warts and all look at the life and music of John Martyn. The author does not shy away from the violence, manipulation and drink and drug addiction which characterised Martyn’s life. But It is clear Martyn could also be warm and generous and seemed to regret the harm he caused. I think the regret comes across on his songs, in particular songs like Couldn’t Love You More. When you watch performances of this song in his later years, he sounds like a wounded animal.
It can be a hard book to read, but I am glad I read it.
Much like the subject. Graeme Thomson has done a good job of giving a portrait of this complicated and brilliant musician. And also of describing the effects of his behaviour on his family, and most of all, himself, without either demonising or idolising the man.
They say "Never meet your heroes". Maybe they should add "...and don't read their biographies, either". A beautifully written bio of a not-so-beautiful man, who made very beautiful music. Still, re-living JM and Danny Thompson at the Manchester International will help my memory gloss over the less savoury aspects of his life.
Not a fan but interested in the characters of life of which Martyn certainly was - albeit on the darker side of things. His wives, his children and friends all cast aside and often treated brutally. Yet hes still someone held in the highest regard for his (earlier) musical output. Not the first genius/monster and unfortunately not the last. Interesting all the same.
This was an excellent book, but it is my opinion the author gave short shrift to some of Martyn’s best work. The album “Sapphire,” for instance, is an impeccable record and barely gets mentioned in this text. It seems, perhaps, there is some bias toward Martyn’s earliest works that is maybe unwarranted. Other than that, though, the book is fascinating and well-written. Definitely worth the read.
A compelling story about a complicated artist. I recommend listening to Martin's music as you work your way through the book. It will deepen your understanding and appreciation for his work. Thomson's book is an unsparing yet empathetic portrait of a songwriter who pushed boundaries and deserves a larger audience.
'Small hours' records in detail the insecurities in John Martyn's life, and how he spiralled into the sad persona of his later life. His abusive behaviour was sometimes appalling and surely would have been treated harshly in the courts in the modern era. Thomson is good on analysis of his career and records without going into unnecessary detail. Reading the book has taken me back to explore his earlier records.
First of all, this is an excellent biography. Thomson clearly admires Martyn as an innovative musician and songwriter, but pulls no punches on his failures as a decent human being. This is no hagiography.
In reviewing an autobiography, I think it's important to stick to the book, not get sidetracked by the subject. I'm not reviewing John Martyn. Suffice it to say that he could be (and often was) a bastard of the first order, worse than I already thought I knew, but I'm not going to do a J K Rowling on him and chuck all the music. I will still listen to him despite the rest. Personal choices.
Thomson traces Martyn's roots from a relatively comfortable, but disrupted, childhood through his career and personal life up to his death at 60. He had access to Martyn's children, his ex-wives and lovers, colleagues and fellow musicians, as well as to Martyn himself when he was alive. I found it an engrossing and at times distressing read. It also challenges the sometimes cosy and simplistic assumptions we sometimes have about artists and their art. Thomson doesn't miss the apparent contradictions between someone who beats his wife and neglects his children, but can write such tender love songs. Well, because he's human.
Where Thomson fails is that I don't get much idea of why Martyn was like he was. There is a half- hearted attempt at relating Martyn's behaviour to being deserted by his mother at an early age (though to a loving grandparent), but for me this doesn't really wash. More likely Martyn himself didn't know, and his early years were just a convenient explanation to put on his troubles.
But Thomson succeeds everywhere else and he writes clearly of the terrible self-destructive decline of this great artist and of all the collateral human damage on the way. The book left me feeling sad, but grateful for the music.
This is much better than the standard musician’s biography. It looks more at the man than his music, although the latter is of course covered. I really enjoyed it.
A fascinating read exploring a passionate, difficult and often horrible man who nonetheless produced some of the most stunningly beautiful music I know.