Customer Reviews

Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

5 star:		(8)
4 star:		(9)
3 star:		(5)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Man, this is yet another haphazard music bio. Publishers of rock bios must think fans are less than intelligent. Many stories (Bob Dylan stuff, the song "The House of the Rising Sun", the tour with Carl Perkin & Jerry Lee Lewis, etc., etc.) come right out of that great video documentary, "Finally, Burdon and the Animals". Some of these tales are actually word for word, which makes you wonder how much effort went into the book itself. Other stories come right out of Burdon's first autobiography, which was little more than a drug & sex induced flashback - though I admit it was very well written, and was a better book than this new one. This new book is just a completely unfocused mix of everything. Hard to believe Burdon & Craig had an editor who knew anything about rock music. The index doesn't include many of the people and places in the book, which they apparently didn't notice. My guess is that a computer made it for them. Many famous people will find their names spelled wrong in the book (a great blind living bluesman, the keyboard "Rabbitt", a soul legend, half of a great country rock outfit, and the best sax man in the history of rock music are among the many in this unlucky group). The writing is not uniform, switching from slang to British terms to literary references to profanity - all in a matter of pages. Although I am no prude, a 60+ year old man using the F-word used more than 25 times seems a bit much. He claims, more than once, that he is not bitter, but when referring to other people, f-ing along page after page is one of the things bitter people do, isn't it? Even basic factual matters aren't handled well. Midway through the book it is stated that he gave MGM their first number 1 single with the song Spill the Wine, yet the appendix lists this song as #3, and it can't max out at both 1 and 3 - and there are dozens of things like this throughout the book. The book also confuses time frames. Going from Hendrix already being dead, back to when he was alive, til when he is dead, again, without ever accounting for what is going on. The book is over 325 pages long, but this is due to the outrageous layout and spacing used; I think in terms of words this book is shorter than the first autobiography. The text is practically double-spaced. What really adds to the length is the insane number of paragraph breaks. Many, many chapters have dozens of one-sentence paragraphs for no literary or grammatical reason (did a computer do this too?). Big fat books cost more than not so fat ones, so maybe there is a reason for this? Even the text itself is weirdly chosen. For instance, he is over 60 years old and has done more than most people ever dream of, yet he devotes one full chapter of this short book to what is just 5 days of his life in the Israeli desert doing nothing much worth remembering? Why bother telling this story? I think the biggest problem could be summarized like this: the 2nd to last line in the book is perfect, and it should have been the first line ("My first true love: singing"). If this is true, tell us about that instead of goofy theories about masturbation, Hendrix, explosives, the Animals manager, Eggmen, Yakuza, Morrison, and this other stuff. Thunder's Mouth needs a decent editor, someone to make sure Burdon & Craig started here, instead of avoided this for 300+ pages! After all, this is not what got in him the rock hall of fame, and that is why people read a book by him.

Depending on what you expect from Eric Burdon this book will either grab you or repel you. The previous reviews hit the nail on the head when they said the book lacks info on Eric's recordings and creative process, focusing instead on a mix of impressionistic storytelling about his life and times in the rock and roll wilderness. That said, this tome is a quantam leap from his first bio, I USED TO BE AN ANIMAL BUT I'M ALRIGHT NOW, which was dogged by clumsy prose and way too many sex and drug dazed anecdotes. Here, Eric has the sense to hand his story to ghost writer J. Marshall (Jeff) Craig, though the voice---alternately obnoxious, gauche, witty, bittersweet and generous---never ceases to be Burdon's. There's plenty of dirt here, especially with regard to Alan Price, whom Burdon blames for hoarding the royalties from "House of the Rising Sun," but it's not all spite. He becomes nearly giddy when talking about John Lee Hooker or Jimmy Witherspoon. There are some gripping anectdotes about the shallow, backstabbing and even dangerous nature of the music biz (like the gold record alluded to by other reviewers). Best among these are the chapters on War, his battles with MGM and a scrape with the Yakuza during the final New Animals tour in 1968. I also liked the chapter on his friendship with Steve McQueen. On the downside, Burdon still yammers on way too long and way too obsessively about Jimi Hendrix. (Jimi was awesome, granted, but it's been 31 years now E.B. - get over it.) There are a few decent pictures scattered about too, but the drug and sexcapades still take up way too many pages that should have been devoted to his music. Plus, like Graham Chapman's LIAR'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY, this is a tome written by a man who admittedly spent much of his life frying his brain with acid and alcohol. Do you really trust his memory? But please don't think I'm sneering. At the very least this is a highly entertaining book and a must-have for Burdon-ites. For a more balanced appraisal of the man, however, I suggest Animal fans also purchase Sean Egan's excellent ANIMAL TRACKS, which includes commentary from John Steel (who says Eric's stories should "be taken with a grain of salt"), Hilton Valentine, Dave Rowberry, Vic Briggs, John Weider and Zoot Money as well as the Eggman himself.

Eric Burdon has written a second autobiography. The first was published more than 15 years ago. This new one covers part of the first book, and his life right up to this past summer. He has many crazy stories to tell about his life on tour, and between record albums. As you might guess, he has stories of sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll. He also has stories of his managers, and politics in general. Often, these are the better stories. One type of story he doesnt tell is about his own songwriting, and the book really should have covered that - unless he plans a 3rd volume someday. The book is not as reflective as the first autobiography, but might be more blunt. It is a must read for diehard Animals fans, but casual fans might wonder why more was not said about making music. He is a decent writer, but he is a much better singer. I give the book 3 stars instead of 5 because I was interested in Eric the singer, and he is not given much attention in this book. But, if you are a fan of this man, you would regret not reading the book.

Burdon is one of England's best blues singers, and it is unfortunate that his status sometimes rests on a single song. His career went from jazz, to blues, to rock, to psychedelia, to funk, to hard rock, and back to the blues, and it is hard to think of another performer who did this. With this progression and with over 350 pages given him by Thunder's Mouth Press, I would have expected some account of music, singing, performing, and what it means to him. Sadly, he never really does this. Nearly the first half of the book is made up of stories taken from his original autobiography. The first autobiography was much better written, and obviously had a first-rate editorial staff; the same cannot be said for this new book. It was disappointing that 150 pages are devoted to the first 5 or so years of his musical career, and the remaining 150 pages cover the last 30 years of his career. The worst part is that the book really doesn't have much to do with Burdon as a performer, as a singer, as a natural talent, as a lifelong fan of music. Sure, the stories of motorcycle riding with Steve McQueen, fleeing the Japanese mafia, evicting Jim Morrison, and avoiding military conflict in Eastern Europe are all rather interesting. But these things are not what make Mr. Burdon "tick", and they are definitely not the things that made him famous. Imagine an autobiography by a great ballplayer, who only told you about himself in terms of him not playing, practicing, or thinking about baseball. Also imagine he never assessed his own talents, drive, place in the history of the sport, etc. - and never got around to spelling out what baseball means to him, and why he plays baseball instead of some other sport. Since he is a baseball player and not a novelist, you would cut him some slack in his story telling, and probably blame the publisher & editor. I am afraid that is what you would have to do with Mr. Burdon's book. Are the stories fraught with intrigue, drugs, and God-knows what else? Definitely. But, no one made Mr. Burdon analyze what matters, SINGING SONGS, and the book is the worse for it. Although still quite interesting as a wild rip through 30 years of popular culture, when finished you do feel you missed out on something. It is as if you feel you need to go looking for a good interview with Mr. Burdon to learn about him as singer-songwriter, but that is not how you should feel after reading a fresh autobiography. Even with these criticisms, the book would be essential reading for any diehard Animals/Burdon fan; there is no substitute for a first-hand account - and this is often a brutally honest first-hand account. Just don't expect any account of his music and recording projects; he simply presupposes you already know this, which is too bad, as so few people do.

When Burdon wrote his first autobiography in the early 1980's, I was angered that his account stopped in 1970 - and didnt cover his music with War and the bands after that. I guess that was the book publisher's choice, and not his. Well, this new book updates the story right up to 2001. It is a pretty wild collection of stories, tied together by his tours, money problems, drugs, and girlfriends. A good book, and since no other member of the Animals or War bands have written an autobiography that I know of, this is the only source. I liked the book, but wished he gave all 353 pages to his life after 1970, making this part 2 of his autobiography. But, this is not the second volume of an ongoing work. The first half of this new book repeats things I knew from the first book, called I Used To Be An Animal. That is my only complaint, other than him not describing why he choses to sing the songs he does, which songs that he has written are his best, and personal assessments of music like this.

A friend bought this book for me in the U.S. because I could not get it here. I never read Burdon's first autobiography, so I start from scratch. This book was longer than I expected, and better than I expected. Many good stories, and many honest assessments of peoples in the music business. I have to say one big disapointment for me was that Burdon is more interested in telling readers about his life outside of music than his life within music. I asked for this book mostly because he recorded 2 of my favorite double LPs ever - Black Man's Burdon, with the band War, and Love Is, with the Animals after he moved to California. He doesn't even mention these albums. It seems almost impossible. How could this be? They were huge, famous music projects, but he doesn't talk about them. This is what disapointed me. The stories he does tell are very good though, and I think an Eric Burdon fan would be happy with the book.

This remarkable memoir transcends the usual boundaries of the music autobiography and approaches literature. Eric Burdon has lived a wonderful life by any standard but this book also reveals that Burdon is a shrewd observer of the musical and cultural scene. What will remain in my mind are the many character sketches of notable and iconic personages of the last few decades: Steve McQueen, Ed Sullivan, Jimi Hendrix, and above all, the "Lizard King" himself, Jim Morison. One suspects that many fans of the Doors will see their hero in a new light. Burdon's description of the filming of Oliver Stone's movie The Doors is worth the purchase price in and of itself. Any devotee of the original British Invasion bands will find a wonderful series of anecdotes about the Beatles, the Stones, and the Animals. I bought this book because I am a fan of the Animals; I loved the book because it contains so much more than the mere story of a band (or bands). I supect that many readers, like me, will also be fascinated by Burdon's wry observations on the social and political scene along the way. Eric Burdon's narrative flows along propelled by the author's humor and humanity. Ultimately, the man himself emerges as one of the most interesting personalities of the Sixties. I loved this book!

Anti-Establishment is a gross misrepresentation of Mr. Burden. Anti-gravity is far more accurate. God forbid this fella ever has an LSD flashback; he'd boomerang so far back he'd be skipping rope with his own DNA chain. Eric took drugs like the rest of us brush our teeth, daily at least once and some times more. The book is a terrific read.Great view from the inside from one of the front stage guys of the times. I picked up this book on Saturday, and put it down finished Sunday! Very, very entertaining. If you want to get away from the real world, without the use of intoxicants, grab on to Eric's shirt tail, its a real trip.

I found this book recently at a sale, and it came with a CD of three exclusive tracks for the Australia/ New Zealand market. The CD tracks were reworkings of House Of The Rising Son and Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood plus Lionize. I tend to baulk at most rerecordings, mostly finding the original to be the better version, which is the case here, however these two new versions are well arranged and performed, slightly over the top in the Burdon style, but he's still in good voice.

That left the book. For me, tales of rock `n roll excess eg. Stones, Jim Morrison bios I've found to be distasteful so I was hoping this not would be too explicit. I'd passed up another Eric autobiography which was going second hand (for a song...) called "I Used To Be an Animal" for that reason. Well, the bump and grind of rock `n roll familiarity is here and fortunately it does not resonate too loudly with lurid excess.

Tales of rip off in this industry are almost mandatory - if they didn't rip you off you weren't there - and it's here as expected, those corporate thieves and slimy opportunists who would suck the marrow from the bones of a songwriter. Eric now appears philosophic; the years have dissipated his anger - unlike Van Morrison who continues to musically regurgitate his grievances (yawn). Dodgy manager Mike Jeffrey, who leeched Jimi Hendrix as well as Eric (who believes Jeffrey may have faked his death), still holds a special place in his thoughts......

He recounts how former band member Alan Price was bequeathed the royalties to mega hit House of The Rising Sun due to the insistence of Jeffrey and the inexperience of the other young members, and that must have rankled over the years. Yet the band worked together later, and again I guess the years deaden the anger.

The narrative is an easy read, though at times disjointed and patchy, and sometimes with sketches where you hoped for the full blooded scene. He was neighbour to the great poet and author Robert Graves and some Graves' anecdotes would have been fascinating. Graves moves in and out of a couple of scenes but with no dialogue. Elvis drops into Eric's view in one scene, flying in like a super hero to give a cheque to charity, as you might expect. He also recounts Lennon's acerbic reunion with his father, and a young, ignorant Jerry Lee Lewis goading Chuck Berry on a tour bus in the UK. Another scene has Eric himself threatening to blast an obnoxious Jim Morrison out of his house. He was good friends with Jimi Hendrix and offers insight to his death.

Eric has lived the full hoopla and now recalls events in his way. It certainly is not literature as another reviewer suggested - try Dylan's Chronicles for splashes of that. Dylan also recalls events as he saw them. Incidentally I read Dylan's book alongside Howard Sounes' biography of The Bobmeister - an interesting and amusing comparison of what others recalled compared with Bob's historical recollection. Well of course he'd recounted the screenplay as he rememberd it. And possibly Eric has done the same and doubtless he's not one to let a fact, or the lack of such a thing, get in the way of a good yarn. In the words of Clive James "Autobiography is a lying art". Well it might be but in Eric's hands it is certainly entertaining. However if you're a musicologist, don't expect detail. This book is more about Eric's life and loves, not the appreciation or creation of his music.

Eric is an enigma. A guy blessed with an almighty soulful voice who wrote and adapted some damned good songs but in this book he recalls few of them in the making. I get the impression he's a tradesman who goes in, wires the house and departs. He mentions some bluesmen, yet the passion for their music isn't displayed, but it must have been there. I suspect that the authors geared this book to their perception of the modern market. I think they missed an opportunity, or maybe they provided for another with a sequel. Anyway, the bottom line is that it is an enjoyable albeit bumpy ride through Eric's landscape of the last 60 odd years.

Anyone raised in 60's paranoia, could appreciate this soulful imperative about misunderstanding. Who better than the voice of Eric Burdon has the credentials to raise the specter to that social phenomenon? Of course, his friend and colleague, Bob Dylan, had a lot to say about that creepy sense of ignorance and insecurity in "Ballad of a Thin Man." Taken in a similar context, Cream's "We're Going Wrong," or Peter Fonda's last words to Billy, "We Blew it!" before they are murdered at the end of "Easy Rider," accentuate a deeper and more depressing picture to an era. I grew up listening to the Animals, and became attuned at an early age to the unique sound of Eric Burdon's vocalizing. "House of the Rising Sun," "It's My Life," "We Gotta Get Outta This Place," impressed me as it did everyone else I knew at the time who loved their music. Each of these songs evoked a tale of some kind, and it was through repeated listening to the "Story of Bo Diddly," that I found myself really appreciating the voice of Eric Burdon as a story teller. This was followed by "Don't Bring me Down," "When I was Young," and a little later, "Spill the Wine." All of these songs entered my psyche as memorable and significant artistic masterpieces, and soon formed the proverbial soundtrack to my life. When I saw on the cover, Brian Jones describing him as "the best blues singer to come out of England," I was reasonably certain the book had to be good. I wasn't disappointed. The book is entertaining and easy to read. It's filled with really cool and illustrative pictures that cover Eric's life and career. There are quite haunting parts to the book as well, that stayed with me long after I'd finished it. The part about Monika, "the stalker," who may have been responsible for drugging Jimi Hendrix to death in an obsessed, psychopathic and jealous rage, is one of them. Another is his pool side LSD hallucinations of the "giant, purple cockroaches." Then there are descriptions of the desert skyline, riding the dunes on a Harley, in the company of Steve McQueen. To avoid any misunderstanding, if possible, I think the book deserves to be read in the tradition of the poetic bards of old. It helps to listen receptively for what Eric has to say, given his unique point of view. Listen to what his tale conveys, with the sensibility of "Watch the Heroes as they Die," or the "Winds of Change." It'll either be worth your time and effort, or you may decide, in the alleged words of Bo Diddly after hearing the Animals for the first time playing his "material," "That sure is the biggest load of rubbish I ever heard in my life."