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Straight Outa Bristol
This is an exhaustive, accurate, no-holds-barred dissection of the entire Bristol phenomenon, from the early days of the Wild Bunch/Dug Out scene with young punk Nellee Hooper, Massive Attack and Tricky hosting sound system parties, to the roles played by art punk/funk rebels like Mark Stewart and his Pop Group, and Rip, Rig & Panic (fronted by a Scandinavian punk called Neneh Cherry). Right up to Portishead and the jazzy jungle visions of Roni Size and the Full Cycle crew.
- GenresMusic
205 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1997
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
December 31, 2018
This book by journalist Phil Johnson has one of the greatest opening sentences in musical bios. I’m paraphrasing a bit, but come on: “Dance music that you actually listen to; hip-hop beats whose urgency is deconstructed into dreamy, erotic soundscapes; machine-made rhythms chock full of body, heart and soul; lyrics that trascend tired genre conventions to respond playfully to language by taking the piss.”
However, the book is an incomplete music bio at best and certainly not a “definitive account” of the Bristol sound, as it was marketed in mid 1996, when it was published.
In my opinion, this is mainly because of two things. First, it was written in media res and has little depth or context as to what would happen next (no “Mezzanine” or “Portishead” or “Pre Millenium Tension” here, folks). That leaves the reader feeling it’s not much more than an extended chronicle and a primary source for further reference, if a very good primary source.
Second, it focuses mainly on the beginnings of Massive Attack (via the Wild Bunch, Neneh Cherry, Nelle Hooped, and Mark Stewart) while rushing through the actual Massive Attack story, and actually speeding up at the Tricky and Portishead chapters. It feels rushed and unbalanced in its focus. Some minor and, for 1996, new Bristol acts get 21 pages towards the end of the book, whereas Portishead only gets 20 and Tricky gets 21. Massive gets 32, plus another 40 for its roots/the Wild Bunch. It’s heavily stacked in favor of Massive Attack’s backstory and this feels like unnecessary meandering at times. Again, a likely casualty of writing a “definitve” book on a genre just as the genre had finished its first phase and was about to (really) blow up.
It is certainly entertaining, well written and witty: “ ‘Radio One is so clued in to what is happening in British pop that it’s unbelievable’, says Andy Parfitt, managing editor of Radio One, the [British Council] video’s first talking head. ‘We don’t have the same commercial pressures that our rivals do so we can get behind a band like Portishead and play them on mainstream radio, where our commercial rivals would never do that, and we can give them sufficient support through our special shows that they eventually become accepted and take off, so public service broadcasting and Radio One in Britain are all tied in, dovetailed nincely.’ One imagines Lord Reith calling out ‘Yo!’ from the grave.”
Although I recommend it, Johnson’s book clearly lacks the hindsight that only time can bring. In that, it may only please “true” fans or people really wanting to kick off a bit of trip hop research. I for one am looking forward to Melissa Cheman’s Massive Attack book, due out in May, 2019.
However, the book is an incomplete music bio at best and certainly not a “definitive account” of the Bristol sound, as it was marketed in mid 1996, when it was published.
In my opinion, this is mainly because of two things. First, it was written in media res and has little depth or context as to what would happen next (no “Mezzanine” or “Portishead” or “Pre Millenium Tension” here, folks). That leaves the reader feeling it’s not much more than an extended chronicle and a primary source for further reference, if a very good primary source.
Second, it focuses mainly on the beginnings of Massive Attack (via the Wild Bunch, Neneh Cherry, Nelle Hooped, and Mark Stewart) while rushing through the actual Massive Attack story, and actually speeding up at the Tricky and Portishead chapters. It feels rushed and unbalanced in its focus. Some minor and, for 1996, new Bristol acts get 21 pages towards the end of the book, whereas Portishead only gets 20 and Tricky gets 21. Massive gets 32, plus another 40 for its roots/the Wild Bunch. It’s heavily stacked in favor of Massive Attack’s backstory and this feels like unnecessary meandering at times. Again, a likely casualty of writing a “definitve” book on a genre just as the genre had finished its first phase and was about to (really) blow up.
It is certainly entertaining, well written and witty: “ ‘Radio One is so clued in to what is happening in British pop that it’s unbelievable’, says Andy Parfitt, managing editor of Radio One, the [British Council] video’s first talking head. ‘We don’t have the same commercial pressures that our rivals do so we can get behind a band like Portishead and play them on mainstream radio, where our commercial rivals would never do that, and we can give them sufficient support through our special shows that they eventually become accepted and take off, so public service broadcasting and Radio One in Britain are all tied in, dovetailed nincely.’ One imagines Lord Reith calling out ‘Yo!’ from the grave.”
Although I recommend it, Johnson’s book clearly lacks the hindsight that only time can bring. In that, it may only please “true” fans or people really wanting to kick off a bit of trip hop research. I for one am looking forward to Melissa Cheman’s Massive Attack book, due out in May, 2019.
September 7, 2011
I'm finding it hard to pigeon hole this book - it's certainly not definitive (being around 200 pages long) but has certainly shed soem interesting light on the whole "Bristol Sound".
The author puts some context around the city's history, and specifically the nature of subcultures within different districts. I felt as though I had a good general view of the city before we delved into the musical aspects of the book.
Different bands and artists are dealt with in separate chapters, but given the "incestuous" nature of the scene, names crop up again and again.
Daddy G is the only member of Massive Attack without an interview in here, and the insights given by difefrent members are really interesting. There's a fair bit of self deprecation, and a whole lot of bitterness swilling around.
There are shorter chapters on Tricky and Portishead, presumably due to the lack of direct interviews available.
The book puts the development of the sound into a social and political context, and i learnt a lot of interesting facts that I never knew.
This is really only a book for fans of the music, you aren't going to be converted, but you will be enlightened.
There's a brief discography at the back of the book and influential tracks are mentioned throughout.
Whilst this isn't definitive, it's written with a clear love of the people, the place and the music, but without putting them on a pedestal.
The author puts some context around the city's history, and specifically the nature of subcultures within different districts. I felt as though I had a good general view of the city before we delved into the musical aspects of the book.
Different bands and artists are dealt with in separate chapters, but given the "incestuous" nature of the scene, names crop up again and again.
Daddy G is the only member of Massive Attack without an interview in here, and the insights given by difefrent members are really interesting. There's a fair bit of self deprecation, and a whole lot of bitterness swilling around.
There are shorter chapters on Tricky and Portishead, presumably due to the lack of direct interviews available.
The book puts the development of the sound into a social and political context, and i learnt a lot of interesting facts that I never knew.
This is really only a book for fans of the music, you aren't going to be converted, but you will be enlightened.
There's a brief discography at the back of the book and influential tracks are mentioned throughout.
Whilst this isn't definitive, it's written with a clear love of the people, the place and the music, but without putting them on a pedestal.
December 22, 2016
It's more about the scene than the music. It's informative, but it feels like a historian who didn't know the genre wrote it more than an actual fan. The ideas were there, but the book focused too much on background, both history and the musicians', than the actual music. It felt premature to write about it during the peak of the era. If you're looking for song meanings or reviews, you won't find them here.
February 19, 2021
It's a time capsule this (cover design and all), a survey of Massive Attack, Portishead, Tricky and others, that came out in 1996, midstream - two years before Massive Attack's Mezzanine was released (referred to in the book as their upcoming 'punk' album but which, in actual fact resulted in goths and/or cyber punks turning up at their gigs, and their music getting a feature on the Matrix). A nostalgia trip read now.
Music is personal, so let's go with the reminiscence.
Massive Attack became my favourite musical act, but I came to them fairly late - after their second album, Protection, had been released, and probably about the time this book came out.
My brother Rob used to work at a cafe and bring home CDs from the cafe collection that I would listen to and tape. Things took a while to filter through to New Zealand I guess, but the cafe culture was cutting edge in those days.
I was into acid jazz at the time, big into Brand New Heavies and the Talkin' Loud stable, so I happily dubbed Miles Davis Doo-Bop and Us3 (the legendary Flipfantasia), but Protection sounded odd. Not funky enough and no real jazz samples. I sent it back to the cafe the next day.
But I couldn't shake it. And a little while later I asked Rob to bring it home again. I remember listening to my dubbed cassette of it on my silver cassette deck beside my bed, trying to make sense of it.
I think the slow tempos and bass were what suckered me in, and the melancholy. In a way, it was actually a much better soul-fit for me than jazzy stuff. I was probably getting my heart broken, and the title track hit home. And then there was the poeticism and artistry that was becoming ever more important to me as I worked my way through my university degree.
Blue Lines was Massive Attack's groundbreaking first album, but Protection will always probably be my favourite. Although oddly Blue Lines still seems to be part of my life story, in a revisionary way that maps backwards. That album came out around the time of the first Gulf War. The record company initially dropped 'Attack' from the band's name because of that.
And I can't think of that album without also thinking about my family's intended move to Cyprus in 1991. A move that was cancelled because it was thought the whole Middle East was going to erupt, scud missiles were flying everywhere, and maybe Armageddon was just around the corner.
Anyway, I was more or less away from acid jazz now (I still loved Galliano) and headlong into triphop, though there were overlaps. The triphop love eventually lead me to 'Londinium' by Archive, my favourite album of all time. There's little chance that album would have existed without Massive Attack.
My first face to face encounter with Massive Attack was in the concrete bunker of the John Logan Campbell Centre. Mushroom, about to quit the band, sat looking bored behind the turntables, and an enveloping wall of sound eminated from a giant speaker stack - still one of the most impressive visceral experiences of my life.
My interest in Portishead came a bit late too, but before their second album. I saw them live in the North Shore Events Centre and nearly fainted when Beth Gibbons came on stage... mainly because we'd been standing so long listening to Portishead's DJ Andy Smith scratching it up. They had the jazz in them. Portishead are probably the best musical distillation of 'cool' I can think of.
I never got into Tricky - too scary. But, latter days, Martina Topley-Bird in support of Massive's Heligoland tour was a revelation of loveliness.
The book ends with Roni Size, still working on his debut album (on Talkin' Loud) and already with a hype that suggested it was going to be groundbreaking. It was (kicking off the Drum n Bass phenomenon), though I never liked it as much as I thought I should have. Too frenetic.
In due course, late nineties, I became an utter British music snob, refusing more or less anything from the US, except 1960s jazz. I remember sitting on a train heading north in England in 1999, a low sullen sky and nuclear power station in the distance, when the penny dropped and all the UK music I loved suddenly made sense.
Of course the other major cultural phenomenon, unmentioned in the book, that would come 'straight outa Bristol' was a relatively famous street artist known as Banksy.
Good times. Geek out.
Music is personal, so let's go with the reminiscence.
Massive Attack became my favourite musical act, but I came to them fairly late - after their second album, Protection, had been released, and probably about the time this book came out.
My brother Rob used to work at a cafe and bring home CDs from the cafe collection that I would listen to and tape. Things took a while to filter through to New Zealand I guess, but the cafe culture was cutting edge in those days.
I was into acid jazz at the time, big into Brand New Heavies and the Talkin' Loud stable, so I happily dubbed Miles Davis Doo-Bop and Us3 (the legendary Flipfantasia), but Protection sounded odd. Not funky enough and no real jazz samples. I sent it back to the cafe the next day.
But I couldn't shake it. And a little while later I asked Rob to bring it home again. I remember listening to my dubbed cassette of it on my silver cassette deck beside my bed, trying to make sense of it.
I think the slow tempos and bass were what suckered me in, and the melancholy. In a way, it was actually a much better soul-fit for me than jazzy stuff. I was probably getting my heart broken, and the title track hit home. And then there was the poeticism and artistry that was becoming ever more important to me as I worked my way through my university degree.
Blue Lines was Massive Attack's groundbreaking first album, but Protection will always probably be my favourite. Although oddly Blue Lines still seems to be part of my life story, in a revisionary way that maps backwards. That album came out around the time of the first Gulf War. The record company initially dropped 'Attack' from the band's name because of that.
And I can't think of that album without also thinking about my family's intended move to Cyprus in 1991. A move that was cancelled because it was thought the whole Middle East was going to erupt, scud missiles were flying everywhere, and maybe Armageddon was just around the corner.
Anyway, I was more or less away from acid jazz now (I still loved Galliano) and headlong into triphop, though there were overlaps. The triphop love eventually lead me to 'Londinium' by Archive, my favourite album of all time. There's little chance that album would have existed without Massive Attack.
My first face to face encounter with Massive Attack was in the concrete bunker of the John Logan Campbell Centre. Mushroom, about to quit the band, sat looking bored behind the turntables, and an enveloping wall of sound eminated from a giant speaker stack - still one of the most impressive visceral experiences of my life.
My interest in Portishead came a bit late too, but before their second album. I saw them live in the North Shore Events Centre and nearly fainted when Beth Gibbons came on stage... mainly because we'd been standing so long listening to Portishead's DJ Andy Smith scratching it up. They had the jazz in them. Portishead are probably the best musical distillation of 'cool' I can think of.
I never got into Tricky - too scary. But, latter days, Martina Topley-Bird in support of Massive's Heligoland tour was a revelation of loveliness.
The book ends with Roni Size, still working on his debut album (on Talkin' Loud) and already with a hype that suggested it was going to be groundbreaking. It was (kicking off the Drum n Bass phenomenon), though I never liked it as much as I thought I should have. Too frenetic.
In due course, late nineties, I became an utter British music snob, refusing more or less anything from the US, except 1960s jazz. I remember sitting on a train heading north in England in 1999, a low sullen sky and nuclear power station in the distance, when the penny dropped and all the UK music I loved suddenly made sense.
Of course the other major cultural phenomenon, unmentioned in the book, that would come 'straight outa Bristol' was a relatively famous street artist known as Banksy.
Good times. Geek out.
November 3, 2023
Like most people I like music. I have had a love affair with music for as long back I can remember, when my mom used to sing me to sleep, and I have spend the most of my money, and still do, on records.
But I rarely mix my two obsessions, here I made an exception, and I do not regret that choice.
A fairly deep insight into the music scene in Bristol, dating back from the olden times, up to the period that tickles my interest, and the music of my dreams (and nightmares).
I have always loved the "trip-hop" music, but being from Denmark, and a little town at that, I have never heard the story behind the music, and now I finally have. And I was entertained, and I had to find the old CDs from the shelves, and I know that the next many weeks will be to the sound of Bristol.
But I rarely mix my two obsessions, here I made an exception, and I do not regret that choice.
A fairly deep insight into the music scene in Bristol, dating back from the olden times, up to the period that tickles my interest, and the music of my dreams (and nightmares).
I have always loved the "trip-hop" music, but being from Denmark, and a little town at that, I have never heard the story behind the music, and now I finally have. And I was entertained, and I had to find the old CDs from the shelves, and I know that the next many weeks will be to the sound of Bristol.
June 7, 2017
I thought the beginning and end were kind of bad (Or at least not what I was looking for), but the parts about Massive Attack, Portishead, and Tricky were pretty good. I don't know if that's because the book is actually good, or just because none of these artists are participating in Entertainment Weekly reunion issues. While on one hand it was interesting seeing someone write about the genre/artists while they were all so young, I feel like trip hop fading by 2000/becoming more of a 'white women singing over strings' genre (Hooverphonic, Dido) instead of staying as UK Hip Hop shows why you should wait before writing about a genre.
April 28, 2019
Geoff Barrow almost sold his camper van to Father John Misty
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews