Famous First Words: Music Biography Quiz

Answer: Jerry Lee Lewis

The other three true stylists according to Jerry Lee are Jimmie Rodgers, Hank Williams and Al Jolson. Jerry Lee seems to have always had a particular problem with Elvis Presley, and what he said about both The Beatles and The Rolling Stones can't be repeated in polite company. Despite Lewis's cockiness, the history of rock 'n roll would surely be a less exciting story had it not been for him.

Jerry Lee Lewis' tumultuous roller-coaster career of peaks and troughs is mirrored in his turbulent private life, and "Hell Fire"'s author Nick Tosches implies the two are so intrinsically linked that it could hardly be otherwise.

One of his biggest falls from grace was when he was hounded out of the UK on his first tour there. The press was quick to bring to the public's attention that Lewis' newly-wed wife was actually his cousin, and, even more shocking, she was just 13 years old. What nobody pointed out at the time was that Lewis had already married twice and had never divorced. Apparently, such goings-on weren't such a rarity amongst the Lewis clan, as Tosches jokingly recounts: "If Willie Leon and Minnie Bell had a child, Minnie Bell might somehow wind up as the child's aunt as well as its mother, and its grandfather Willie Harry would likely pan out to be its cousin, and in the end that poor child would be lucky if it escaped without being rendered its own uncle."

"Hell Fire" is frequently listed as one of the greatest music biographies ever. Indeed, Tosches' writing is so engaging and expressive that it stands up on its own as a piece of great literature. In particular, Lewis' personal tussle with God and the Devil is brought to life by the doom-laden prose.

Answer: Richard Hell

Richard Hell was born Richard Meyers in 1949 in Lexington, Kentucky, USA. He changed his name in the early 1970s when he and childhood friend Tom Verlaine (born Thomas Miller) formed The Neon Boys. In his autobiography, Hell states time and time again how important image is for him, and he lays claim to have practically invented the punk image of ripped clothes held together by safety pins.

The odd title of the book comes from the closing lines of a piece of schoolboy writing Hell/Meyers wrote back in 1957. It is the account of an unsuccessful attempt he made to run away from home with two pals. Hell/Meyers' father, who had discovered the plot due to Richard's stupidity, promised he would let the boy go if the pals turned up. The last line of Meyers' schoolboy story goes, "But they never got there so we went and went (sic) to sleep I dreamed I was a very clean tramp."

Richard Hell retired from music in 1984 and went into writing, which had always been his first love. He had been anything but prolific as a musician: The Neon Boys never released anything (at the time), and he left both Television and The Heartbreakers before either band released anything. He formed Richard Hell and The Voidoids in 1976 and the instant-classic album "Blank Generation" was released a year later. The follow-up, "Destiny Street", eventually emerged five years later, but that was all from them. In the early 1990s, Hell did come out of retirement for a brief spell with the excellent Dim Stars.

Answer: Lee "Scratch" Perry

"People Funny Boy" was actually a 1968 Lee "Scratch" Perry single, arguably the first reggae record ever. The title was a dig at one of Perry's major rivals, Joe Gibbs. Perry had had his first break under record producer Coxsone Dodd, but they fell out so Perry jumped ship to Gibbs' Amalgamated record label. Inevitably, they fell out too. Gibbs replied with the equally brilliant "People Grudgeful".

The book "People Funny Boy" by David Katz traces Perry's fascinating recording career, but also gives a wider picture of Jamaican music as a whole. One is still left wondering who Perry really is, but his pivotal place in the history and development of Jamaican music is expertly explained. What is also explained (to a certain extent) is Perry's bewildering discography. Essentially, Perry didn't worry too much about allegiance to any one record label and would often fly over to London and sell the same album with slightly altered mixes, and sometimes no more than different titles, to two different record labels. Perry's recording career gets so confusing that there is an entire book tracing it: "Lee 'Scratch' Perry - Kiss Me Neck: The Scratch Story in Words, Pictures and Records."

Answer: Janis Joplin

Janis Joplin grew up in Port Arthur, Texas, and hated it. The feeling was reciprocal. Janis didn't fit in and the further-out she got in her appearance and behaviour, the more her peers despised her. The hub of the nightmare was high school, and even when Janis went back to a reunion, the animosity hadn't abated.

Joplin's biographer Alice Echols pinpoints the lack of love, acceptance and security as having a huge influence on how Joplin's life panned out, both musically and personally. It no doubt attracted her to the pain expressed in the blues, as well as the numbing pleasantness provided by drugs and alcohol. However, Echols is at pains to point out that Joplin was a music aficionado and was by no means a naïf wailing her heart out. Joplin liked to play down any kind of contrivance and claimed she just let her feelings come through, but even in the days of Big Brother and the Holding Company her fellow band members were known to mock her for bogus panting during a particularly emotive performance.

Echols' book is very brave since she doesn't shy away from some unpleasant truths, not just about Joplin but also about the 1960s American counter-culture in which she was involved. Furthermore, although the cultural and historical context which Echols explores might explain many things connected to Joplin, at the end of the day she fits into the category of unique, inexplicable talent.

Answer: Charles Mingus

Mingus goes on to explain that one of the three Minguses "stands forever in the middle, unconcerned, unmoved, watching, waiting to be allowed to express what he sees to the other two", another Mingus is "like a frightened animal that attacks for fear of being attacked", and a third is an "over-loving gentle person."

Although "Beneath the Underdog" oozes with style, much of the content revolves around Mingus' sexual prowess and tell us very little of either the man beyond the bravado or Mingus the creative genius.

Jazz giants such as Charlie Parker, Fats Navarro, Juan Tizol (with whom Mingus had an infamous run-in), and Miles Davis drift in and out of the meandering narrative, and the jazz cats' vernacular is rendered brilliantly, but it's all just background to Mingus' philandering.

Nevertheless, the book does stand out as great music biography thanks to Mingus' unorthodox prose. Might it be that he was really not that interested in exposing himself and saw the book as an artistic experiment? One intriguing oddity is how Mingus talks about himself in the third person, as though the omnipresent narrator slips in and out of Charles Mingus' body and mind. Whatever the case may be, it's not recommended for the prudish due to the content, or the traditionalists in terms of form.

Answer: Morrissey

Morrissey, who was born in Davyhulme (Greater Manchester), rose to fame with The Smiths. The Smiths' legacy can be heard in practically all guitar-driven pop music produced since their debut single "Hand in Glove" was released in 1983.

Morrissey's "Autobiography" polarized opinion amongst the critics, as would be expected. Much of the controversy was due to it being published as a Penguin Classic. It was also an instant best-seller in the UK.

The account of his early life is a brilliantly-written piece of literature which could be appreciated by anybody whether a fan or not. However, from the time when his music career took off to the end of the book, it gets patchy. The trouble is Morrissey gets bogged down with squabbles that only the real hardcore fans could ever be even vaguely interested in, thus not quite the stuff classics are made of. Having said that, even the latter part of the book is brightened up by flashes of sharp wit, and perceptive insight.

Answer: Moondog

Moondog was born Louis Thomas Hardin in Marysville, Kansas, USA, in 1916. His father was an Episcopal preacher and the family moved frequently: aged one Louis was moved to Clinton, North Carolina, then to the Plymouth, Wisconsin, of the book's opening line. Apparently, Louis's earliest memories were of playing on the rectory lawn there. After that, he lived in Wyoming, Missouri, Iowa, Arkansas, Tennessee, and eventually New York. It was while living in Hurley, Missouri, that Louis lost his sight. Like most sixteen-year-olds, Louis was curious as to what went on inside stuff. Unfortunately, his curiosity had been aroused by a detonating cap he'd found, and it exploded in his face.

Right through his adult life he strove to keep up a place where he could escape the city, and he owned property in Tioga County, New York. In the city, however, he either lived in the run-down Aristo Hotel, or with anybody who would put him up. Amongst those who did host him was Philip Glass, who wrote the introduction to the biography. He said: "The Village Voice had a piece about Moondog needing somewhere to live, so I trekked out to his usual spot, in front of the Warwick Hotel, at 54th and 6th and invited him to stay at the house I was living in with my wife JoAnne Akalaitis."

"The Viking of 6th Avenue"'s author Robert Scotto gives the reader enough background of Moondog, and also a fair taste of his eccentricity, including an in depth look into his Viking-inspired attire, but he endeavours to focus on what really matters, which is Moondog's brilliant music. He says "For his music to survive his presence it will need interpretations by diverse hands and in other venues; it will have to be gently but firmly weaned away from its creator."

Answer: Django Reinhardt

Author Michael Dregni has also written a straight-forward biography of Django Reinhardt, but "Gypsy Jazz: In Search of Django Reinhardt and the Soul of Gypsy Swing" is a much more ambitious project. Incredibly, Dregni has managed to track down and interview some quite elusive gypsy jazz guitarists and their families, including Django's descendants.

The Quintette du Hot Club de France and Django Reinhardt have staked their place in the history of music as being amongst the most astoundingly original of bands. A teenage Django heard the jazz of Billy Arnold's Novelty Jazz Band in 1924 when they were gigging in Paris and he immediately attempted to adapt the skills he had picked up playing bal-musette to the exotic stuff the American jazzmen were playing.

In 1928, Django was seriously injured when his caravan caught fire. Indeed, his trademark two-fingered soloing was a result of said injuries. It was thought he'd never play again, but after a drawn-out convalescence, he did. Jazz had moved on though, and he was amazed at what Louis Armstrong and his band was coming out with. In 1934, Django formed the formidable Quintette du Hot Club de France with violinist Stéphane Grappelli.

One of the most fascinating periods of Django's life is during the Nazi occupation of France. Drengi documents the complicated situation in which gypsy jazz, played by gypsies, was officially outlawed by the Nazis yet enjoyed by everyone from civilians to foot soldiers to high-ranking officials. Despite the genocide of Romani people across Europe being carried out by the Nazi regime, some gypsy musicians (including Django) did a roaring trade playing for German soldiers in Paris. Things were less ambiguous for Sarane Ferret Et Le Swing Quintette De Paris's Jewish violinist Georges Effrosse who was sent to his death at the extermination camp Mittelbau-Dora.

Answer: John Peel

In the eighth chapter of "Margrave of the Marshes", John Peel explains that when he left school he had little idea which path to take, and what he really yearned for was the chivalric rank Margrave. Apparently his desired title was Margrave of the Marshes, hence the rather odd book title.

John Peel died before finishing "Margrave of the Marshes", so it was finished by his wife and kids. Although the circumstances are obviously unpleasant, it actually works very well. John Peel had a fascinating life and was a good story-teller. Even in his writing, his mild manner is instantly recognizable to those of us who grew up listening to his soothing voice. However, having his family's viewpoint for the last part of the book spins a curious slant on it.

John Peel's eclectic broadcasts and his role in the development of many a listener's taste in music can't be overstated. Peel would play anything he deemed interesting, sometimes prior to having decided whether he liked it or not. In fact, Steve Albini said of Peel that if he (Peel) thought he might not like it, he "assumes that it's his problem and that the band would not have made that record if there wasn't something valuable about it."

Answer: Billie Holiday

Apparently, the co-author of "Lady Sings the Blues", William Dufty, wrote the book based on conversations with Holiday and never really checked the facts. Thus, its historical accuracy is disputable. Incredibly, even Holiday's birth place is a contentious issue: she claimed she was born in Baltimore whilst official records state she was born in Philadelphia. The official Billie Holiday website affirms "Birth name: Eleanora Fagan Gough. Born: April 7, 1915 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Died: July 17, 1959 in New York City, New York."
Nevertheless, the candid, anecdotal, chatty style is a wonderful read albeit a harrowing one at times.

Billie said she first heard Louis Armstrong and Bessie Smith in a brothel where she ended up doing chores for the madam and other women working there just so she could hear the music. Unfortunately, such places led to two of the most distressing events in Billie's life: being raped aged ten in a brothel, and just three years later being arrested and imprisoned for prostitution. The latter event occurred when she refused a customer.

The book isn't all so bleak, although practically everything that happened to Billie is tinged with sadness. However, the same empathic warmth which permeates Holiday's recordings is captured brilliantly by Dufty.

Answer: Jimi Hendrix

The sub-title of Charles Shaar Murray's brilliant "Crosstown Traffic" is "Jimi Hendrix and Post-war Pop". It is as detailed a critique of popular music as you'll find in any bookshop. Murray's knowledge, in particular of so-called black music from blues to jazz to r&b to soul, is so deep and far-reaching that he comfortably places Hendrix in historical context, a feat many of Hendrix's contemporaries, critics and various other commentators have failed to do.

Hendrix's personal biography isn't really delved into, and Hendrix the man is rarely glimpsed, but the point of Murray's study is to put Hendrix in his rightful place as a unique talent. However, Murray is at pains to point out that Hendrix didn't come out of the blue, but out of the blues, if you'll excuse the pun.

One of the drawbacks of "Crosstown Traffic" is that it was written in 1989. Pop music has undergone such dramatic changes since its publication that some of the chapters are rendered irrelevant as they are so dated. Another gripe is that Murray at times comes across as a tad conceited, especially when he writes about forms of music he clearly disdains. Nevertheless, anybody interested in Hendrix's music and beyond would get a great deal out of reading "Crosstown Traffic".

Answer: Robert Wyatt

Actually, "End of an Ear" was released while Robert Wyatt was still in Soft Machine and featured the band's saxophonist Elton Dean. When he was kicked out of Soft Machine in 1971, Wyatt formed Matching Mole (a pun on the French translation of Soft Machine) with whom he recorded two albums. However, he didn't enjoy being responsible for other folks' livelihoods and disbanded Matching Mole in 1972. His first proper solo album,"Rock Bottom", is quite rightly often found high up on musos' "best albums ever" lists, although it never broke into the mainstream rock consciousness.

"Different Every Time" is a long-awaited probe into the fascinating world of English national treasure Robert Wyatt. Wyatt's music, and especially voice, creates such intimacy yet he had long remained rather elusive. Author Marcus O'Dair has still had to dig quite deep to get a handle on what makes Wyatt tick. Indeed, in interviews the curious biographer is fobbed off with self-deprecatory quips, childlike word-plays, and a whole host of red herrings, yet in the end something akin to the real Robert Wyatt eventually emerges out of the smoke-screen.

Answer: Jeff Turner

Brothers Jeff (vocals) and Micky Geggus (guitar) formed the Cockney Rejects in 1978 in their native Custom House, London, England.

"Cockney Reject" is a genuinely funny, unpretentious, candid account which spans the wild years when punk rock was blossoming to the band's downfall, and rise back up when a younger generation discovered the joys of Oi!

Although the Cockney Rejects' debut doesn't really contain any bona fide hits, it is jam-packed with storming punk anthems such as "I'm Not a Fool", "East End", and "Police Car". The follow-up, "Greatest Hits Vol. II", is a bit weaker, but still pulls no punches on street punk classics like ""War on the Terraces", "Oi! Oi! Oi!", and "The Greatest Cockney Rip Off". The latter did actually get to number 21 in the UK singles charts.

In his autobiography, singer Jeff explains his stage name, "All the big punk stars used aliases. Johnny Rotten, Sid Vicious, Joe Strummer, Billy Idol and the rest. Who could I be? My dad had gone to primary school in with a kid called Turner whose nickname was "Stinky" because of his unstable bowels. The name had always made me smile, and it seemed to capture the punk ethic to a tee. "I'll be Stinky Turner," I said. And from that day I was."

One of the red herrings, Reggie Kray, was one of the infamous East End gangster duo the Kray twins. He murdered the Rejects' bass player's uncle, Jack "The Hat" McVitie.

Answer: Lonnie Donegan

"Puttin' On the Style" was a UK number one hit single for Lonnie Donegan when it was released in 1957 as a double A side with the Woody Guthrie-penned "Gamblin' Man". Who actually wrote "Puttin' On the Style" is lost in the mists of time but it was collected by American composer Norman Cazden along with other folk songs from the Catskills (New York State).

The 1978 album with rock luminaries such as Rory Gallagher, Zoot Money, Ringo Starr, Albert Lee, Brian May, Elton John, Ronnie Wood, and Nicky Hopkins was also called "Puttin' On The Style". Donegan's importance in the history of British music has been noted many times by the top names in the business but unfortunately he was largely ignored by the music establishment and record buyers alike from the 1960s onwards.

Lonnie Donegan died in whilst on tour in 2002, aged 71. He'd been performing music in one way or another since he was a teenager in the 1940s.

Spencer Leigh's biography is a gem of a read for a Lonnie Donegan fan. Leigh doesn't fall into the trap of lauding praise on his subject, but takes the fanzine-style approach of documenting events, providing anecdotal quotes by those involved, and being cheekily irreverent towards his subject matter despite being a huge Donegan devotee.

Answer: Nina Simone

The song "I Put a Spell on You" was actually written by Screamin' Jay Hawkins and released by him in 1956, but it was Nina Simone's 1965 version that made it a hit. It has since been covered by numerous artists. It was the perfect song for Simone who talks about how she "had all the tricks to bewitch them (the audience) with. To cast a spell over an audience I would start with a song to create a certain mood which I carried into the next song and then on through into the third, until I created a certain climax of feeling and by then they would be hypnotized."

Since her death, there have been other biographies which have suggested Simone wasn't quite the sweet, innocent, naive character she painted herself as in "I Put A Spell on You". What has never been in doubt is that she was a tireless civil rights' activist. In the autobiography she openly states that she didn't take her "popular songs played in the style of cocktail jazz" seriously until she realised how meaningful and powerful songs sung in this way could be. In fact, Nina Simone always saw herself as a classical pianist and disparaged the genre of music which made her a star. Incredibly, she never even meant to be a singer but was forced to start singing by a night club owner. Praise be to that man.

Answer: Mark E. Smith

Albert Camus's book's original French title is "La Chute", translated into English as "The Fall". Literary references often crop up in The Fall's music, and it's interesting (in "Renegade") to find out more about Mark E. Smith's wide-ranging and eclectic reading taste.

Despite what some ex-members might claim, The Fall is all about Mark E. Smith. Thus, his autobiography is the history of The Fall. Thankfully, he doesn't get too bogged down with details about recording sessions and so on, but gives us a glimpse at the man behind the lyrics (and the music, if you take him at his word.) What emerges is an erudite (as you'd expect from the lyrics), funny (ditto) and likeable character who is as bereft of pretensions as he is of reverence for the entertainment industry and its sycophants.

"Renegade: The Lives and Tales of Mark E. Smith" was published in 2008. At that point, The Fall had released an incredible twenty-six studio albums, the most recent having been "Reformation Post TLC" (2007). Despite singing the praises of The Fall's line-up at the time of writing the book, in the long-held tradition of the band, Mark had a clear out after the aforementioned album and was sporting a new line-up for the following album, "Imperial Wax Solvent".

Answer: Ray Charles

In 1959 Ray Charles' then-record label Atlantic chose to call his sixth album "The Genius of Ray Charles", and the label "genius" stuck with him for the rest of his career. In the autobiography Charles says: "I had been called other names - the High Priest, the Reverend, the Right Reverend, Brother Ray; but it was the boys at Atlantic who started using the genius label. I'd never have used the word in regard to myself and haven't thought of myself as a genius before or since. I go by Brother Ray."

The aforementioned album itself is a stroke of genius as it brings together so many styles, another thing that would forever after characterize Charles' output.

"Brother Ray" was written by David Ritz although it is in the first person. Ritz spent hours in conversation with Ray Charles and then weaved the material into a fairly chronological account of Charles' life. Charles is refreshingly candid about his drug use, his sex life, politics, religion, and of course, music.

Answer: Lemmy

Motorhead's Lemmy, or maybe that should be Lemmy's Motorhead, has managed the laudable task of producing album after album which keep up with the times yet are also unmistakably by the same band that started annoying people's neighbours way back in 1975. What's even more astounding is that the line-up has chopped and changed over the years and it's only really bassist/vocalist Lemmy who has remained constant.

In his autobiography, Lemmy bemoans the fact that so many critics (and even some fans) view early albums such as "Overkill (1979), "Bomber" (1979), "Ace of Spades" (1980), and the three-piece unit which recorded them, as not just the apex of the band's career (which might be true), but as the only period worth bothering with.

Lemmy's biography is as guileless as Motorhead's music. It offers an entertaining insight into the life of a heavy metal legend without getting bogged down with the cocksure, vainglorious tales of sexual conquest and debauchery so typical of hard rock memoirs.

Answer: Karen Carpenter

Of all the popular music tragedies, Karen Carpenter's must be the saddest. Karen died in 1983, aged just 32, of heart failure. She had been struggling against anorexia nervosa for years, and it has been argued that her excessive use of ipecac had thinned her heart muscle and contributed to her death. As several people say in the book, so little was known about anorexia that Karen didn't get the help she would today. Despite the opening line of the book's claim by Karen's mother Agnes Carpenter, much of the blame for Karen's condition lies with her family, in particular her overbearing mother.

Biographer Randy L. Schmidt chronicles Karen's childhood, the duo's rise to fame, and Karen's tragic life with warmth and profundity. At times the trials and tribulations of her personal life reads like a dark soap opera which borders on a horror film. She was very much the average American Disney-loving girl-next-door who craved a loving marriage and children, but the deep vulnerability she expressed in her music is a rare treat.

The Carpenters' ostensibly mushy lyrics, super-polished sound, and clean-cut image are not everybody's cup of tea, but I challenge anybody to be left unmoved by Karen's unique voice and phrasing. She was no slouch behind the drum kit either.

Answer: Divided Soul

The divided soul of the book's title was, according to the book's author David Ritz, the "essential split in Marvin's soul - the division between hot sex and high spirituality." However, neither Marvin Gaye's sexuality nor his spirituality was a simple matter. His relationship with his father (Marvin Gay, Sr.), who shot him (Marvin Gaye Jr.) dead in 1984, was probably at the root of the turmoil.

Ritz was a long-time friend of Marvin Gaye's (although they fell out over the authorship of Gaye's hit song "Sexual Healing") and "Divided Soul" is the culmination of lengthy interviews, both formal and informal. Gaye comes across as frank and honest, albeit jumbled up at times, and immensely charismatic. There are some hilarious references to Gaye's delusions of grandeur ranging from innocuous claims he could have been a sports pro to the ridiculous comparison of himself to Beethoven. He also boasted of business nouse which was blatantly non-existent, his plans to write, direct and star in a Hollywood film (despite having no filmmaking experience or even, it would seem, love for the medium), his proposed symphony (despite not reading or writing music), and declaration that he was inventing both a new musical instrument and writing a new musical scale. Were "Divided Soul" a hatchet-job, Gaye might have been painted as an arrogant boor, but Ritz's warmth depicts a slightly childlike dreamer hampered by his own laziness.

"Divided Soul" serves as much as a history of Motown as a biography of one of the artists who shaped the Motown sound, and who was arguably the label's musical giant.