VELVET THUNDER

This is first-rate stuff, and a no-brainer for anyone interested in the workings of a band to read, even before the machinations of the plot are uncovered. Even the seemingly odd title is significant – but to find out why, you’ll have to read it. Go on.

It isn’t all that often these days that I get the chance to sink my teeth into a fictional novel – and even rarer to have the opportunity to do so for review purposes. But this book, written by former Adam And The Ants and Bow Wow Wow drummer Dave Barbarossa, is certainly smack in that ballpark. For the plot of this, his second book, he has drawn on all of his own musical experience and background in the industry, because this is a tale set against the background of a successful rock band, focusing on one of the key members, and delving into a fascinating web of intrigue, betrayal, deceit and impending disaster. And it’s what they used to call ‘a real page turner’, make no mistake – chances are if you try this for size you’ll zip through it at a similar rapid rate as I myself did.

Truth be told, I wasn’t even sure whether I’d be reading this, much less reviewing it. We all know examples of when former musicians, sportsmen, politicians or actors have tried their hand at fiction only for the results to be less than memorable. This pre-release copy stared at me for well over a month, daring me to open it, before I finally ran out of excuses and took the plunge. Even then, I was half expecting to be giving up within about 20 pages or so, telling myself ‘well, I gave it a go’. Fast forward a few days, and it’s visibly well thumbed, complete and now staring at me to make sure I get this review down – because it is the very least it deserves, being a cracking read.

The problem with reviewing a fictional novel, of course, is that not too much can be said for fear of the dreaded ‘spoiler’, but the general scene can safely be set here. Daniel Earl, the book’s main protagonist (it is told from his view in the first person) is a keyboard player. More than that, he is the keyboard player in a rather successful band named Torin, after their charismatic yet spoilt, entitled and idle frontman Torin DeVere. It’s kind of like Bon Jovi, Alice Cooper or Toyah (in terms of the band naming that is, not the character traits!) Torin gets all the acclaim, but Daniel is the true musical heartbeat of the band, the songwriter and the chief creative muse; the relatively unsung Ritchie Sambora, Glen Buxton or Joel Bogen in the above examples, I suppose. He goes largely unrecognised, sitting quietly behind his keyboards on stage, but this, we learn, is exactly how he likes it. The only child of a single mother with clear emotional issues, he himself suffered an ‘accident’ when younger which left him with an unspecified (until much later) disfigurement. All he wants after a rehearsal is to get home to the house which he bought for his mother with his earnings, put a ready meal in the microwave and watch a video. His routine, and looking after his mother, is his comfort blanket – along with the band which provides a safe space for him in the cut-throat world of music. Threatening to derail all of this, however, are two things: firstly he has got to know a girl named Kerry after she spilled coffee over him on the underground, and secondly – and most gravely – Torin, who is in fact a liability in terms of talent, begins acting like the proverbial bull in a china shop with the band, firing members and embarking on a self-proclaimed ‘New Way’ that no-one wants.

From this point, things begin to unravel which pitch Daniel into a series of situations which play out in a way which ring exceptionally true, as he is swept along with a chain of events which he hates with a passion and yet cannot manage to get out of. Reading it is quite a breathless experience at times, like a sort of runaway train which you shake your head at, yet know deep in yourself that you would probably keep riding in the heat of the moment, and in Daniel’s own situation, no matter how much you knew it was wrong. This is both frustrating and addictive, as is the gradual unpeeling of the many, many layers of Kerry’s character, and all of this leads to several points where you put the book down and think ‘well, I didn’t see that one coming!’ Barbarossa uses several clever writing techniques at times to keep you turning the pages; one favourite is that he will finish a chapter on a cliffhanger, knowing that you have decided to read ‘just to the end of this chapter’, and then will immediately start the next with a completely new situation in which you may not even immediately realise who is speaking. And so you have to read the next page just to see what’s going on… and, well, you know how it goes.

Dave Barbarossa was certainly an excellent and innovative drummer (the tribal beats he helped develop in the Ants were very influential in the ’80s), but after reading this book, I can comfortably say one thing. As good a musician as he may have been, he’s a better novelist. This is first-rate stuff, and a no-brainer for anyone interested in the workings of a band to read, even before the machinations of the plot are uncovered. Even the seemingly odd title is significant – but to find out why, you’ll have to read it. Go on.