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Bill Bruford - The Autobiography: Yes, King Crimson, Earthworks and More

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Book Overview

Bill Bruford, once called the godfather of progressive-rock drumming, has been at the top of his profession for four decades. This is his memoir of life at the heart of prog rock, art rock, and modern... This description may be from another edition of this product.

Customer Reviews

4 ratings

He Writes Like He Plays!

As a drummer, Bill Bruford has been an inspiration to me since I was a teenager back in the early 70's. Bill's autobiography is written with the same thoughtfulness and care that has exemplified his career as a musician. He gives a very intelligent analysis and history of the music industry from the heydays of the late 60's-mid 70's to the current situation of corporate cultural totalitarianism. The book's chapters are set-up as answers to "frequently asked questions" he has been dealing with his entire career. Throughout, there is a personal, measured, fair-minded humanity that interjects all subjects be it his ambivalent relationship with Robert Fripp, his restained loathing of Chris Squire or the trials and tribulations on the road and in the recording studio. This book is a must read for all prog rockers. Finally, the quality of the book in terms of paper choice and binding reflect the sincerity and humility of one of this era's greatest musical artists.

No slave to success

This autobiography is well written, entertaining, and informative. Three qualities one doesn't expect from a celebrity rocker, but as we learn from his book Bruford isn't of that ilk. He is a committed artist who didn't allow his success to enslave him. He has struggled with his notoriety and it is ironic that he owes his fame to his tenure with Yes and King Crimson, two bands he eventually outgrew. There are plenty of anecdotes about his early bands to satisfy the hardcore fans. Some of them are hilarious. Yet he throws in enough philosophizing to appease the hardcore musicians. This is a rare tale of a man obsessed with his art who neither lost his moral bearings nor the reason for his pursuit of excellence. While entertaining to fans, this book will be an inspiration to all those who pursue a creative life.

What do you call a guy who writes about his career with musicians?

In the case of Bill Bruford, you'd call him an articulate and intelligent author of one of the most insightful assessments of a career that you'll ever likely read. I would agree wholeheartedly with the reviews this is garnering. Bruford has written a book that is always articulate, often hillarious and sublimely genuine in his discussions of teh costs and rewards of a life dedicated to serving Music. His has been an extraordinary career, and with his recent announcement of ceasing to perform live and turn his attention to the cultivation of his thoughts and back catalogue, let's hope that if there are to be no more CDs (and as he puts it, the iPod is full anyway), let's hope for more books. Bruford is a man who writes with a command of the language at least as sublime as his command of his 4 appendages. No mean feat. Ahem. This is not a gossip book nor a cartoon (Patty Boyd and David Crosby take note), but a brutally honest and insightful examination of a life well lived and creatively awake. In fact, you can't put the book down. It is a page turner and is provactive from a noetical cliff that few writers in any discipline achieve. Mind you, I very much liked Clapton's book as well - an unaffected account of his life, career, inspirations and demons. One thought even more of Eric after reading the book than one did just on the merits of his musicianship. This book raises the bar significantly higher. Bruford carries few grudges. Chris Squire is left unforgiven for a level of unprofessionalism that Bruford felt was just in bad form, as does Al Di Meola. Apart from the backhand toward these two, there isn't a negative aspersion in the book. You might not like his regard for the inanities of some of the punters, but he doesn't come at them with the ill will some of his other colleagues have honed to a craft. Instead, he assembles the epochs of his life into a polyrhythmic whole whose conclusion is seen coming and whose final rest is accomplished with grace. His discussion of the craft that he practiced and the the use to which he put his talent are set in historical contexts not just of his career, but in the arc of the development of percussion and small group play in the aesthetic of history. He is inspiring and brilliant. Socrates would have been proud to know Bruford. Demosthenes could have called off his search. Pythagoras would have loved to play lyre in his band. In short, his is a philosophical as well as aesthetic consideration of his life as musician and husband, father and leader, son and partner. He draws an interesting analysis of our times in the course of his coming to terms with the turn that music has taken in the world itself. By that I mean, Bruford sees the reification of Music down to "sound" as symptomatic of the reification of the human spirit into an obsession with commodites. And that is also part of what compels him to lay down the public sticks at this time. Like Sartre, he sees the conspicuous consumption of the vicario

Marvelous

If there was no Bill Bruford, we would have to invent one. I was probably more excited about this book, than any other in recent memory; not only by virtue of being an enormous fan of his various projects over the years, but also because he has been the most reliably erudite and witty interviewee in the history of rock and jazz. For anyone remotely familiar with Bill's umistakably dry and sardonic wit, there will be little doubt after a single chapter that no ghost writer lurks underneath. This book is the closest thing admirerers of Mr. B will ever get to their ultimate fantasy-namely sitting across a cafe table from Bill with a good cup of coffee and getting him to answer all those questions you've had for ages, that you would never have the courage to actually pose, knowing full-well that you'd receive well-deserved eye twinkle and thinly veiled contempuous barb for your temerity. In other words, reading this book, in some ways, is rather like playing a car racing game on the Xbox..you get much of the satisfaction without the risk of plunging your noggin into a thinly padded steering wheel at 80 miles an hour. There are so many terriffic antecdotes here, with so many quotable quotes, you may want to read it with a yellow hi-lighter in reach. Very seldom have I laughed so well and been so thoroughly entertained, while learning so much I wanted to know. Keep in mind, at only 300+ pages, the read is disappointingly brief, and many episodes in a great career, seem to be glossed-over far too quickly, considering their enormous import. The Yes and KC years take-up probably no more than 20-or-so pages each (although not covered in strictly chronological order) which, in almost any other circumstance would leave you feeling dissatisfied. But this is not really a detailed document of his relationship with other musicians. It is much more a witty and entertaining essay of Bill's views and musings on various aspects of being a musician than a "life story" in the traditional sense. As long as you put away any expectations of getting a detailed account of what happened during the recording of "Larks Tongues", or intimate relations of fights with Chris Squire, you will, I'm sure, find this a thoroughly engaging read. *Note to Mr. Bruford: Please sir, now that you've sadly retired from touring...how about a sequel with all the detail and dramatic bits we're all ashamed to ask you about? :)
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