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

This is a very interesting and enjoyable book, although it could probably have done with a bit of editing. Some of it is a little bogged down in grafted-on cultural theory taken from such (undoubtedly fascinating) authors as Simon Frith. The result is something that hovers a little awkwardly between personal biography and extended academic essay, but fortunately Bill is a fine writer and the prose itself is always accomplished.What is notable about this book is the insight it gives you into how musicians of a certain creative bent can end up barking up some slightly unhealthy trees when it comes to their career. Rather than seeing his music making as an intrinsically enjoyable thing, which existed to bring pleasure to audiences the world over, it seems that Bill Bruford's main priority was to involve himself in a forty year struggle to gain entry into an exclusive fraternity of drum virtuosi, and to be perceived by his immediate peers as having significantly evolved the art of jazz percussion. While such high and mighty ideals are undoubtedly laudable, it seems odd to me that such an ambition could become so compelling and obsessive that a musician would end up racked with career-crippling self-doubt, and in fact end up taking early retirement.Bill seemed to spend most of his working life worrying about how and to what extent he would come to be perceived as a virtuoso and an innovator, while presumably still being aware that 99% of the world's music loving population actually don't give two hoots about that and just want to hear some music that will move them or brighten up their evening.He did indeed create some wonderful music and did some great drumming over the years, but in many ways it's a pity that he had to take it (and himself) so damn seriously. There are lots of musicians and drummers out there who are less focussed on themselves and mastery of their instrument, more focussed on simply enjoying being part of a band. Consequently they are still happy, working musicians, whereas, sad to say, Bill is not. If taking the route that he chose to take - the pursuit of obsessive instrumental prowess, the endless self-defeating quest to remain innovative and cutting edge- was only destined to lead him to throw his sticks away in despair, you have to ask yourself the question, "What is all worth it?"A highly interesting and significant autobiography.

I do thoroughly agree with the previous reviewer on this one. This is a deeply thoughtful and moving book, full of intelligent insights into the life of a working musician, the inside machinery of the music industry, the place popular music occupies in our world, etc. It's certainly much more than an autobiography: though we are offered some memorable and deeply funny accounts of life in the road and in the studio with Yes and the "Mighty Crim" (his view of Fripp manages to be both considerate, balanced, ironic and outright hilarious, all at once), the strength of this volume lies in that it offers nothing less than a Poetics of music. Sounds pretentious, I know, but it's all done with subtlety, intelligence and a sense of humour which (believe me) very few writers, let alone literary critics, actually possess: his ideas on creativity have an urgency and immediacy about them which is both disarming and memorable. Bruford has though hard and long about music, its place in the world, and, more importantly, his own relationship with music in the course of time. And this is where the book really takes off, as it were: the sad and painful account of his increasing (and crippling) self-awareness at the drum stool, of the sense of mounting exhaustion which has clouded these last years of his working life, is beautifully told and infuses the final pages of this book with a pervading melancholy. There is no false humility here, but deep honesty and a disarming frankness. Actually, being somebody who grew listening to early Yes and King Crimson (up to "Three of a Perfect Pair), but who has been with Bruford all the way up to his most recent Earthwork offerings, I think this book is a beautiful, if a bit melancholy, way of rounding up a musical career notorious for its variety, adventurousness and creativity. This book is a must for anybody interested not only in music but in how the arts in general can make something happen out there.

I will make no bones about this... for me, Young William Bruford is the finest percussionist to have blessed these shores in....oooohhh, well.... FOREVER. Like so many people I followed him through his Yes period, his time with "The Mighty Crim", and then his glorious "solo" career with the likes of "UK" (a good idea, but Crimson are Crimson...), the "Bruford" albums (immaculately conceived jazz-tinged rock) and then onto Earthworks and the likes of B.L.U.E. (I won't mention Absolute Elsewhere, because Bill doesn't either!).A normal drummer's autobiography would probably be filled with crude anecdotes of excess, but Mr. Bruford is clearly a very deep thinker, and this book is at least as philosophical as it is musical. Yes, there are musical anecdotes (surprisingly slim on Yes, more so on King Crimson), but Bill is not in this for a cheap hit on the fans' wallets. This is a book for anyone considering being a MUSICIAN, the pitfalls, the possibilities, the COSTS both financial and personal. In the end it is a little sad, as Bill, despite his astonishing achievements in forwarding the ART in rock, still seems tinged with that old favourite - LOW SELF-ESTEEM. If you have an interest in the sheer MECHANICS of music, this is a book for you. If you wish to push music forward, this is a book for you. If you are a fan of Oasis, this will mean NOTHING to you. And if you happen to read this, Bill, THANK YOU for your amazing canon of work, and have a HAPPY retirement (hopefully those royalties will keep rolling in...)