Autofellatio is the memoir of singer, lyricist, writer and occasional actor James Maker. It begins with his teenage years in punk-era London, moving through the counter-cultural 1980s with an account of the indie group Raymonde and his association with pop artist, Morrissey. Visiting the adventures of rock group RPLA, the filming of "Middleton's Changeling," and the party years of the 1990s, it closes with his relocation to, and observations on, life in Spain.
Bloody Brilliant - JULIE BURCHILL Glitteringly epigrammatic, it's a glam-rock Naked Civil Servant in court shoes. But funnier. And tougher - MARK SIMPSON Pistol sharp, loaded with witty one-liners and peppered with Maker's scatter gun observations on life, music, and the meaning of good hair - PAUL BURSTON
Maker was the singer in Raymonde, whose 'No One Can Hold A Candle To You' is probably the best Smiths-esque song ever recorded by anyone but the Smiths (indeed, it's also better than a fair few of the Smiths' entries in that category). His other bands, I don't know, though after this I will be investigating further. But dear heavens, as a writer the man needs an editor. The first sentence of the book is a grammatical train-wreck, and the situation doesn't improve later; his attempts at being Quentin Crisp come off roughly a quarter of the time, but that hit rate might well have been improved if only someone had gone through and made sure all the aphorisms were using the words he meant to be using rather than the ones he actually was, and had a quick look at the punctuation while they were about it. Deeply irksome. And yes, I know that very long sentence there could see me accused of a certain hypocrisy but sod it, this is an online review, not my published testament. Also, I think my dinner is ready.
Brilliant and interesting read. Once I started reading I couldn’t put the book down it’s funny And witty. It’s nice to read about how he met Morrisey. I read 5he whole book and could I read it again? Yes and I would recommend it👍
Bonfire of the travesties: you have to warm to a memoir that describes a fallout with a school friend - or at least someone who made overtures - not unreasonably over Van der Graaf Generator, who the next day told classmates, “stay away from James - he’s unhinged!” - as “[making]me sound like Flora Robson in 1939’s ‘The Poison Pen’.” And there’s a lot to like in this slim volume which isn’t so much autobiography as a tense, nervous headache in bound form. James Maker, occasional pop star, proximate of the famous, lifelong roué: whose modus operandi is summed up as “if you can’t look like Joan Crawford, at least behave like Joan Crawford. Admit nothing and claim everything.” He fronted not one but two hard rock acts as a cross-dresser (sample track: Last Night A Drag Queen Saved My Life) which must have desperately confused an army of teenage spotty virgin Kerrang readers. A staccato collection of anecdotes that makes Morrissey’s Autobiography look like the instructions on a packet of Preparation H. Chaotic, hysterically funny and yes, unhinged. Bravo, ma’am!