Michael Watts

‘The best I can remember from twenty years at the heart of pop,’ announces Laurence Myers in his droll, gossipy memoir of a lowly accountant whose fortunes expanded alongside the nascent British pop industry of the 1960s and ‘70s. As old-school Tin Pan Alley, an industry of bespoke, anonymous songwriters, gave way to the Beatles-led showbusiness of artists writing and performing their own songs, Myers put aside his personal preference for jazz and became, to his own surprise, an influential music mogul, variously advising the young Mick Jagger on his pension plan, midwifing the rebirth of David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust, sorting out the muddle that was Ray Davies, and (almost) pulling off the coup of signing Steve Wonder from Motown. His close friend and rival was another accountant, the American Allen Klein, who notoriously muscled his way into managing the Beatles and Stones. Myers offers first-hand knowledge of the complex deals and machinations of popular music, especially the business practices surrounding Bowie (hence the title, Hunky Dory). But with few exceptions, which include Davies and Adam Faith, he’s generous in his tales of the famous and the no-marks, the bad and the beautiful, even showing forbearance when Bowie’s friend Iggy Pop, house-sitting in Myers’ own home, burns holes in his posh carpet while warming spoons ‘for eating soup’, as he hilariously puts it. As ever, he’s an observer, not a participant. His acceptance of human folly extends to himself. Now rich and retired after a second career in films and the West End stage, he looks back on both his failings and his failures. Who knew? he shrugs, as another chapter closes and the wheel spins once more. Folly is a constant source of Jewish humour, and he’s written a typically warm and revealing account of a well-remunerated life among the stars and their satellites. Taxi for Mr Myers! Michael Watts, ex-Melody Maker