I enjoyed Beeswing very much, although I did think there was something missing at its emotional core.
Richard Thompson writes very well, so the book is readable and enjoyable throughout. His account of his early years and of the formation and progress of Fairport Convention is fascinating, especially for those fans like me who spent their pocket money on What We Did On Our Holidays, Liege and Lief and the others as they came out. There is a fine picture of the life of a touring band in those days and Thompson’s friendship with and respect for many of his fellow musicians is plain – including Martin Lamble, whose tragic death in that terrible crash is very touchingly evoked. He also says straight out that the music business is full of...er...a vulgarity meaning the outlet from the digestive tract, although he doesn’t indulge in bitching about individuals. It’s all fascinating stuff to any RT or Fairport fan.
What we don’t get is much in the way of self-revelation. He talks about his personal life in a detached matter-of-fact way (other than about his Sufism, which is extremely interesting, if a little briefly dealt with). The well-documented family and marital upheavals are barely touched on, and although it’s probably unfair to expect too much here, this determined silence does leave something of a hole at the heart of the book, I think.
Nonetheless, this is a very good read which I can warmly recommend.
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