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I have this love/hate thing going on with Mick Wall’s writing now – he’s good, great turn of phrase, dude can write. And some of his books are great. But he’s relentlessly pumping them out now, clearly angling at retirement-funds – and there’s a laziness to the way he accepts a commission; trots out another set of lines.
But, as I say, he can be good – so here’s a very succinct telling of the Pink Floyd tale. It was timed to celebrate (build up to) the release of the mediocre new Floyd album of leftovers. And it sells itself under a banner of celebrating “50 Years of Pink Floyd” but it’s really just a speed-through of the timeline.
It’s Wall’s first foray (as far as I’m aware) into the world of Kindle Singles. And, in a way, he’s purpose-built for them now; a great way to recycle some of his writing, to quickly craft these fun yarns around a particular band, or era, or album. And when he’s firing on all cylinders he creates page-turners within the music-writing sphere. He’s got a way of stylising dialogue and pithy put-downs, snarky summing up, playful, sprightly text. So much so that you can feel completely engaged – even when you’re really learning nothing new. As was the case here.
Then it got to the end – and the jubilance around The Endless River. And it’s just hard to believe a writer as sharp-tongued as Wall could ever really even pretend to give a shit about a set of polished and preened leftovers. But he gives it his best shot. And that’s kinda sad.