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Bad Vibes: Britpop and my part in its downfall
Forget Blur/Oasis and Cool Britannia. None of that actually happened. Bad Vibes is the true story of English Rock in the nineties. Written with wit, brio and no small amount of bile, Luke Haines recounts how it felt to ride a wave of self-congratulatory success in a world with no taste. As frontman of The Auteurs, Haines tells of supporting Suede, conquering France, and failing to break America. Of knuckle-headed musos , baffling tours and a swiftly unravelling personal life. And of what it's like to be on the cusp of massive success. Funny, honest and ridiculously entertaining, Luke Haines attacks anyone within rifle range, and is more than happy to turn the gun on himself. Bad Vibes is a brilliant memoir from a man who tells it how it was - and how he wishes it hadn't been.
256 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2009
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625 people want to read
About the author
Luke Haines
8 books17 followersLuke Haines is an English musician, songwriter and author, who has recorded music under various names and with various bands, including The Auteurs, Baader Meinhof and Black Box Recorder.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 111 reviews
December 29, 2011
Luke Haines was never a star, never really wanted to be, which is just as well because if you asked your average Joe on the high street they'd most definitely say,'Luke who?' However Mr Haines is a mighty fine songsmith and has recorded some excellent albums over the years, that no one listened to. Bad Vibes is a painfully honest account of Mr Haines' rise from indie wannabe to established recording artiste on a major record label, through his first foray with 'The Servants,' three albums with The Auteurs, one Baader Meinhof album and the inception of 'Black Box Flight Recorder' we receive an unflinching view of the music scene in 90s Britain, which, not unsurprisingly, turns out to be one fool of fools, bile, hatred and incompetence. I read this book in a day, I simply could not put it down, not because I've heard of all the people he talks about, or because I've also been in a band, or because of the sheer joy of reading something so honest and uncompromising, of reading something that doesn't worship at the feet of Alan McGee or the Manc Ape Brothers, but because it's riotously funny and had me spitting my tea out on a number of occasions. Luke Haines is witty, scathing, surreal, determined and unafraid of the past. In the intro Haines tells us that he will spare us the benefit of hindsight and just write it as he remembers it, write it as it happened as if he was writing it at the time. I think it is a brave thing to do but my does it pay off.
So if you like reading about the music industry, want to know what Britpop was really all about, want to have your suspicions about Chris Evans being a dick confirmed or simply need to have the inside info on how to do your own Trepanning then this is the book for you. Buy it, read it, love it.
So if you like reading about the music industry, want to know what Britpop was really all about, want to have your suspicions about Chris Evans being a dick confirmed or simply need to have the inside info on how to do your own Trepanning then this is the book for you. Buy it, read it, love it.
October 18, 2011
"A strange thing happens at the beginning of 1993. I become a pop star. In France".
Thus begins this brilliantly mordant and witty musical memoir of Luke Haine's toils and travails in the back alleys of Britpop in the early 90's. Like a real life John Self, Haines stumbles between Britain and America, fuelled on red wine and monstrous self belief, encountering a never ending stream of 'bozos' whose stupidity is matched only by their incompetence.
It is written in a wonderful self parodying style. Haines was a monster at times, self destructive, caustic and prone to sabotage his own career and he knows it. He pulls no punches. Most of the Britpop crowd are lacerated, Chris Evans is famously called 'a cunt' to his face and even in his own band the cello player isn't awarded a name, being referred to hilariously as 'the cello player' throughout the book and being the butt of several jokes.
Predictably his band, 'The Auteurs', through a combination of bad luck and terrible decision making (mainly terrible decision making) bump around in the lower leagues of Britpop whilst less talented combos reach for the stars. Haine's sneering is a joy to behold, inducing several laugh out loud moments. The coup de grace is a wonderful set piece where he flees to a remote farmhouse to escape a tour, downs bad acid and promptly terrorises the village pub and surrounding countryside (in the nude) whilst believing he is a witchfinder general!
A wonderful anti-hero then. The boil on the bum of Cool Britannia and a unique voice which personally, I hope to hear a lot more from in the future!
Thus begins this brilliantly mordant and witty musical memoir of Luke Haine's toils and travails in the back alleys of Britpop in the early 90's. Like a real life John Self, Haines stumbles between Britain and America, fuelled on red wine and monstrous self belief, encountering a never ending stream of 'bozos' whose stupidity is matched only by their incompetence.
It is written in a wonderful self parodying style. Haines was a monster at times, self destructive, caustic and prone to sabotage his own career and he knows it. He pulls no punches. Most of the Britpop crowd are lacerated, Chris Evans is famously called 'a cunt' to his face and even in his own band the cello player isn't awarded a name, being referred to hilariously as 'the cello player' throughout the book and being the butt of several jokes.
Predictably his band, 'The Auteurs', through a combination of bad luck and terrible decision making (mainly terrible decision making) bump around in the lower leagues of Britpop whilst less talented combos reach for the stars. Haine's sneering is a joy to behold, inducing several laugh out loud moments. The coup de grace is a wonderful set piece where he flees to a remote farmhouse to escape a tour, downs bad acid and promptly terrorises the village pub and surrounding countryside (in the nude) whilst believing he is a witchfinder general!
A wonderful anti-hero then. The boil on the bum of Cool Britannia and a unique voice which personally, I hope to hear a lot more from in the future!
March 31, 2014
Luke Haines is a psychopath who has written a number of interesting songs, and, exactly like his albums, you start this book enjoying the scathing tone, the vindictive wit, but Haines' voice eventually becomes wearing.
No messing around, Haines pretty much kicks the book off with him forming The Auteurs and charges forward through the 1990s, relishing his bitter rivalry with Suede, Blur, Oasis, Elastica and anyone else who came near his orbit. Haines overplays his self-aggrandising snide bastard role a bit; he's unrepentant about the cruel mind-games he played on his hapless cohorts and violent temper tantrums he threw. Even so, when he lays the boot in on his contemporaries it's often hilarious, although his targets are usually obvious and easy.
It has what you want from a pop memoir, but don't always get: it's bitchy, intelligent, forthright and indiscreet; full of hair-raising anecdotes about disastrous tours, in-fighting and actual fighting, record label wrangles, as well as being light but informative on the song-writing and recording process. I was interested in what inspired him to make the side-project album about 1970s terrorism, Baader Meinhof. Oddly, although he appears to have an actual warmth for the subject, he claims it was essentially because the urban guerrillas of the Red Army Faction looked cool.
Despite threatening to, he never really gets to grips with his problem with Britpop - or his alleged part in its 'downfall' - beyond the usual harrumphing. To be fair, apart from being name-checked on that 'Yanks Go Home' 1993 Select cover, his band were never really on board the Britpop bandwagon, and, as such, it's only a side-show in his book.
Where the writing in Morrissey's recent memoir was lyrical and flowing, here it comes in spitting, staccato bursts of short sentences. The end result is the same, however: you come away having been greatly amused, but worn down somewhat by the cold, sour arrogance.
No messing around, Haines pretty much kicks the book off with him forming The Auteurs and charges forward through the 1990s, relishing his bitter rivalry with Suede, Blur, Oasis, Elastica and anyone else who came near his orbit. Haines overplays his self-aggrandising snide bastard role a bit; he's unrepentant about the cruel mind-games he played on his hapless cohorts and violent temper tantrums he threw. Even so, when he lays the boot in on his contemporaries it's often hilarious, although his targets are usually obvious and easy.
It has what you want from a pop memoir, but don't always get: it's bitchy, intelligent, forthright and indiscreet; full of hair-raising anecdotes about disastrous tours, in-fighting and actual fighting, record label wrangles, as well as being light but informative on the song-writing and recording process. I was interested in what inspired him to make the side-project album about 1970s terrorism, Baader Meinhof. Oddly, although he appears to have an actual warmth for the subject, he claims it was essentially because the urban guerrillas of the Red Army Faction looked cool.
Despite threatening to, he never really gets to grips with his problem with Britpop - or his alleged part in its 'downfall' - beyond the usual harrumphing. To be fair, apart from being name-checked on that 'Yanks Go Home' 1993 Select cover, his band were never really on board the Britpop bandwagon, and, as such, it's only a side-show in his book.
Where the writing in Morrissey's recent memoir was lyrical and flowing, here it comes in spitting, staccato bursts of short sentences. The end result is the same, however: you come away having been greatly amused, but worn down somewhat by the cold, sour arrogance.
November 30, 2012
Can't say I paid much attention to Britpop as it did nothing for me. But good to see a lot of really dull bands blasted in this book - although I was disappointed LH seems to have a weak spot for (early) The Fall, Nirvana and David Bowie, as well as being polite and friendly about a real pretentious dimwit he describes as a Scottish song-writer. Grumpy but on in these four instances (maybe a few more) should have been grumpier. We share some tastes having got into the Modern Lovers at the same age (but as I'm older for me that was in the 1970s not the 1980s as it was for Haines). The whole book is an odd but delightful way to be reminded of an era when I was listening to techno and seeing riot grrrl and garage bands and bascially totally ignored Britpop. The New Wave of New Wave is even mentioned, I'd totally forgotten about SMASH but I saw them at the time (can't remember why). I also caught the Auteurs (and even supported them as a spoken word act) but most of the stuff slagged off here just passed me by, so good to have it confirmed I was right all along to ignore it. Luke always struck me as having both feet planted firmly on the ground, so odd too that he presents himself as rather unstable (poetic licence - or maybe by the time I got to know him he'd really got himself together and was less stable earlier on).... Anyway I laughed along...
June 25, 2018
Ten or so years ago I started this book, but clearly gave up after less than a hundred pages (judging by the bookmark). I thought I would try again, but was sorely tempted to give up once more at a similar point - Haines is such an unpleasant person (or rather he was a very unpleasant person in the early/mid nineties and chooses here not to sugar the pill and engage in any kind of retrospective amendment of his behaviour back then) that almost the entirety of this autobiography reads like the self-obsessed ramblings of a clearly intelligent and perhaps talented (though perhaps not talented enough!) musician bitter about the bands who were more popular and made more appealing music than he did. It improved towards the end after Haines' receives some self-inflicted shitty karma, and hence develops a little more maturity, but in truth this felt a bit like the pretentious/egotistical story of a band (or bands) who made a lot of music few people liked or cared about that much.
November 30, 2012
Despite the endless vitriol there's a lot to like about Luke Haines. He's worked with Steve Albini and Chris Cunningham and his grumpy shtick is entertaining when targeting bands and people you always knew were shits; his chapter on Chris Evans is fantastic as are his numerous barbs at The Verve. I can even relate to the self-destructive instinct to fight the burgeoning scene around you when everyone else seems to want to join the bandwagon. However, by the way he goes on about it, you would be forgiven for thinking that New Wave is a lost classic of an album when it isn't. Damon Albarn might be a big fame-hungry anus of a human being but at least he could write a decent tune. An eye-opening but deeply personal account of the Britpop era.
September 15, 2020
This is great fun - a thoroughly nasty, articulate take on the Britpop era from an insider, written with eager malice and lancing wit. I'm not a fan of The Auteurs' music - I remember Haines as a rent-a-gob even back then, but this is a lovely antedote to the usual drippy look-at-me-famous-mates-and-the-usual-signposts-drivel of the "look back bores" (Mark E. Smith) who write about those times. Just great fun - especially if you lived through it all or have any interest in Suede, TFI Friday, the NME, Melody Maker and the other flotsam. Bar one bum note (the farmhouse acid chapter) this was a brilliant read.
October 15, 2017
Πικρόχολο αλλά και αφάνταστα διασκεδαστικό, γεμάτο ανεκδοτολογικές σκηνές από τη βρετανική μουσική σκηνή των 90ς. Η αξιοπιστία του συγγραφέα-μουσικού, όπως και οι προθέσεις του, ελέγχονται -γράφει πολύ καλά ωστόσο. Απαραίτητη προϋπόθεση, βέβαια, για να τα ευχαριστηθείς όλα αυτά, να σε ενδιαφέρει κάπως η μουσική σκηνή στην οποία αναφέρεται.
March 15, 2018
Was handed this to read by a friend. Now, in theory this should be my cup of tea. I'm the right age to remember all of this. I was immersed in the scene, so to speak. But very quickly I found myself skipping anecdotes and not really paying attention.
Which, when I think about it, was how I felt about the Auteurs back in the day.
In my not finished pile
Which, when I think about it, was how I felt about the Auteurs back in the day.
In my not finished pile
April 9, 2014
Just awful - the vitriol that emirates on every page made this a misery to read and I couldn't finish it. I couldn't care less that Suede and Blur were more successful than The Auters and after reading this book I'm actually glad as I simply found Haines to be so charmless and so vile about everyone around him that I was glad that he wasn't able to achieve lasting fame. I don't understand why people would read a book about Brit-pop if they didn't like the music - I liked Britpop and have no desire to read dig after dig at people who gave me lots of happy times on the dance floor. I have no interest to read page after page of someone who is simply very very envious of the success of others. Haines may not respect the music of his peers but I don't see that he has any more right to judge his peers than the record-buying public. This book is little more than massive dollops of envy interspersed with huge amounts of music snobbery.
December 24, 2011
Britpop, as a movement, had a huge affect on maybe a handful of people - mostly those who lived in North London. But saying that there were some great bands that came out of it, who without a doubt is Pulp. On the other hand I am not sure if Luke Haines was one of the 'movement's bright lights, but for sure a great personality. And like most great personalities they usually have talent on the page. Therefore "Bad Vibes" is a splendid trip to the underbelly of British pop music world circ. 1990's. While Haines has distaste for the pop world, one suspects he also has great admiration for the power structure of the pop world as well. If for nothing else then to rebel against its limited power and vision.
And as for Haines' music, I only know Black Box Recorder, which is pretty good (hardcore) British pop. Another music figure who delivers to the medium of the book. Very nice.
And as for Haines' music, I only know Black Box Recorder, which is pretty good (hardcore) British pop. Another music figure who delivers to the medium of the book. Very nice.
April 4, 2017
This is really brilliant! Very very sharp, funny and dark in places. Luke Haines is definitely 'a fully fledged cunt'. I'm really interested in who the unmentionable rock band are. Google suggests Reef. Would be interested in any other theories.
I have to admit to not being a huge Auteurs fan. I lived and breathed Britpop. I was born in late 1980 so from mid 1993 onwards I listened to the Evening Session every night; bought both NME and Melody Maker each week (Select too) and saw as many bands as possible (mostly which are mentioned in this book). Obviously events in the book around 1994/1995 explain why The Auteurs weren't on my radar more - I was too young for New Wave really. I've been listening to a lot of The Auteurs whilst reading this and I do really like them. Not sure I would have liked them much as a 12 year old though!
I have to admit to not being a huge Auteurs fan. I lived and breathed Britpop. I was born in late 1980 so from mid 1993 onwards I listened to the Evening Session every night; bought both NME and Melody Maker each week (Select too) and saw as many bands as possible (mostly which are mentioned in this book). Obviously events in the book around 1994/1995 explain why The Auteurs weren't on my radar more - I was too young for New Wave really. I've been listening to a lot of The Auteurs whilst reading this and I do really like them. Not sure I would have liked them much as a 12 year old though!
January 27, 2009
At the time, I always had the Auteurs down as the unassuming, non-attention seeking band in the Britpop litter. Their "New Wave" album included some great songs even though you had to check if you were wearing ear muffs when listening to it. Later, Black Box Recorder produced a few albums of literate, clever pop. However, this book sees lead singer Haines exposed as a monstrous egotist - by his own admission. Some great one liners at the expense of some deserving targets - the Verve, Chris Evans - fail to smooth over a fairly unmemorable trawl through the highlights of his career, although it is a well written piece and presumably honest. Not a patch on John Harris's masterly account of the same period.
July 26, 2011
I haven't actually finished this book. I just can't get round to it because I couldn't give a monkeys about the author and his knowing, smartarse prose harping on about how great he was back in the days of Britpop. I mean I WAS there in the days of Britpop, at uni and while I remember every single other band this guy moodily mentions I have no recollection of his band, and I was not in orbit on drugs at the time, honest.
May 28, 2021
read this a couple months back, quite liked it. apparently people on here find his personality offputting? which seems insane to me. dude rules. he was right to be bothered by everything he was bothered by, his assessments of other groups are accurate, and his own work still holds up today. highly recommended if you're into making an ass of yourself at parties w/open bars
February 13, 2014
"I'm a recovering egomaniac." The end.
December 7, 2016
Very funny. It's not necessary to know or love The Auteurs to enjoy this book, but it would probably help to have some understanding of the Britpop scene.
November 14, 2016
This may be the best book of this kind ever. I love Luke Haines, and the first three Autuers records are great. But he's frustratingly anti-commerical to the point he makes Neil Young look like New Kids on the Block.
In recent years, his recorded output contains very few standard records, but does contain a concept album about a fox named Gene Vincent and other animals named Nick Lowe and Jimmy Pursey; and a "dance" album made with ambient sounds from a British Nuclear Bunker. Many indie bands would title an album "9 and a half Psychedelic Meditations on British Wrestling of the 1980s and 80s", but only Haines would record an album that actually is described by the title.
So, Haines generally comes off as someone with nothing to lose, which is why he may be the only person who gets away with slagging off everyone. Haines trashes everyone, with rare exception- Suede's rhythm section and Donna from Elastica (mostly) get favorable words. Everyone else is terrible, especially Ocean Colour Scene, David Gray, and Oasis (with Noel fawning over Luke everywhere he turns up). Also, as I have seen him state elsewhere, he really hated the Velvet Underground reunion.
But Haines is wickedly funny which is why it works (and not wrong). It's tempting to compare this to the much critically loved Morrissey Autobiography, but Moz was trying to hard to be Thomas Hardy and Oscar Wilde. Haines just lets it rip.
At the beginning, Haines is stuck to a dead end record label. He's mostly teetotal and drug-free. He forms a band with his girlfriend and a journeyman drummer, and takes a gig opening for the new band Suede (Drummer, says "Slade? I love 'em").
In short time, Suede explodes, and the Auteurs get good. Select Magazine run a cover article saying Suede, Autuers, Pulp., Denim and St Etienne are the future of music, but only the first two are not deemed too old to be cool.The press grabs on the song "American Guitars" and think it's an anthem against American grunge.
France thinking Autuers is a nod to the band as Francophiles, embrace the band. The first two Autuers albums are hits.
Then it goes off the rails. Haines engages in self-destructive behavior that takes him out of commision. The third album is delayed in promotion to release. It probably doesn't help that it's the antithesis of Britpop - a darkly-themed Steve Alibini record that mainly centers around grisly deaths (and lest we forget, it's brilliant).
At this point, Suede has failed to break America, and improbably, Blur embraces the most self-parodying moments of Britpop. It's a farce, but it gets worse. Kurt Cobain dies, and Oasis whose first album got middling reviews start to become the face of Alternative music.
None of which helps Haines conquer the UK, the US, or anywhere. Relegated to the also-rans, even Pulp managed to break through; and Haines hates the also-rans- there's a scene with too much acid and a bar full of members of Gene, Elastica, Kula Shaker, Sleeper and OCS among others. (I was there, though in the US and have a soft spot for the best of those bands, and as the years go by, even a softer spot for the worst- Echobelly, Marion, These Animal Man, SMASH
As time went on, the band has added a Cello Player, who never gets mentioned as anything else but The Cellist (Even Rourke and Joyce get better treatment in Moz's book). The drummer is jettisoned, for a couple of studio hands, but the magic is gone.
At Britpop's height, with Oasis hanging with the Prime Minister and The Verve with a #1 hit- Haines loathes The Verve- Haines abandons the Autuers for a electronic project that is a 'tribute' to 1970s terrorist groups like the SLA and Germany's Baader-Meinhof gang. Haines suggests Patti Smith and Patty Hearst are the correct icons, but even someone who can have a minor hit with a song about a Rudolph Valentino/Lenny Bruce mashup dream, has a hard time selling this concept.
An Auteurs tour is quickly aborted as it looks like tickets aren't selling (but only after they have flown to the States). Haines meets insane fans in Spain and Japan, who may actually kill him. The Baader Meinhof project looks to be a live act failure as they only have 29 minutes of material. they open for John Cale and little else.
The end nears as Britpop dies with the gasp of Be Here Now. In the (amusing) footnotes, Haines claism that he still has never listened to the album, but even unheard, he's not wrong. Haines is working on producing an album by John Moore- one of a succession of drummers for the Jesus and Mary Chain. Haines writes a ditty with the chorus "Life is Unfair. Kill yourself or Get Over it"- the kind of song that only a female could sing- so he hires Moore and Sarah Nixey and the book ends with the formation of Black Box Recorder.
I could not put it down. It is like Haines's best musical work in that it's irreverent but also often very funny. Haines only way of apology is the intro where he says this is the way he felt in his 20s and clearly he does not think such things now.
Intentionally or not, the book also does a tremendous job of setting the musical climate at the beginning of each chapter. For example, the first Auteurs release comes out in a world listening to the Shamen and/or Tad. Though there are moments where Britpop is mainstream, we are reminded throughout that the pop charts are always ruled by the Pop World- Jacko, Whitney, Mariah, Take That, Spice Girls and Elton. Rock music is always the footnote.
In recent years, his recorded output contains very few standard records, but does contain a concept album about a fox named Gene Vincent and other animals named Nick Lowe and Jimmy Pursey; and a "dance" album made with ambient sounds from a British Nuclear Bunker. Many indie bands would title an album "9 and a half Psychedelic Meditations on British Wrestling of the 1980s and 80s", but only Haines would record an album that actually is described by the title.
So, Haines generally comes off as someone with nothing to lose, which is why he may be the only person who gets away with slagging off everyone. Haines trashes everyone, with rare exception- Suede's rhythm section and Donna from Elastica (mostly) get favorable words. Everyone else is terrible, especially Ocean Colour Scene, David Gray, and Oasis (with Noel fawning over Luke everywhere he turns up). Also, as I have seen him state elsewhere, he really hated the Velvet Underground reunion.
But Haines is wickedly funny which is why it works (and not wrong). It's tempting to compare this to the much critically loved Morrissey Autobiography, but Moz was trying to hard to be Thomas Hardy and Oscar Wilde. Haines just lets it rip.
At the beginning, Haines is stuck to a dead end record label. He's mostly teetotal and drug-free. He forms a band with his girlfriend and a journeyman drummer, and takes a gig opening for the new band Suede (Drummer, says "Slade? I love 'em").
In short time, Suede explodes, and the Auteurs get good. Select Magazine run a cover article saying Suede, Autuers, Pulp., Denim and St Etienne are the future of music, but only the first two are not deemed too old to be cool.The press grabs on the song "American Guitars" and think it's an anthem against American grunge.
France thinking Autuers is a nod to the band as Francophiles, embrace the band. The first two Autuers albums are hits.
Then it goes off the rails. Haines engages in self-destructive behavior that takes him out of commision. The third album is delayed in promotion to release. It probably doesn't help that it's the antithesis of Britpop - a darkly-themed Steve Alibini record that mainly centers around grisly deaths (and lest we forget, it's brilliant).
At this point, Suede has failed to break America, and improbably, Blur embraces the most self-parodying moments of Britpop. It's a farce, but it gets worse. Kurt Cobain dies, and Oasis whose first album got middling reviews start to become the face of Alternative music.
None of which helps Haines conquer the UK, the US, or anywhere. Relegated to the also-rans, even Pulp managed to break through; and Haines hates the also-rans- there's a scene with too much acid and a bar full of members of Gene, Elastica, Kula Shaker, Sleeper and OCS among others. (I was there, though in the US and have a soft spot for the best of those bands, and as the years go by, even a softer spot for the worst- Echobelly, Marion, These Animal Man, SMASH
As time went on, the band has added a Cello Player, who never gets mentioned as anything else but The Cellist (Even Rourke and Joyce get better treatment in Moz's book). The drummer is jettisoned, for a couple of studio hands, but the magic is gone.
At Britpop's height, with Oasis hanging with the Prime Minister and The Verve with a #1 hit- Haines loathes The Verve- Haines abandons the Autuers for a electronic project that is a 'tribute' to 1970s terrorist groups like the SLA and Germany's Baader-Meinhof gang. Haines suggests Patti Smith and Patty Hearst are the correct icons, but even someone who can have a minor hit with a song about a Rudolph Valentino/Lenny Bruce mashup dream, has a hard time selling this concept.
An Auteurs tour is quickly aborted as it looks like tickets aren't selling (but only after they have flown to the States). Haines meets insane fans in Spain and Japan, who may actually kill him. The Baader Meinhof project looks to be a live act failure as they only have 29 minutes of material. they open for John Cale and little else.
The end nears as Britpop dies with the gasp of Be Here Now. In the (amusing) footnotes, Haines claism that he still has never listened to the album, but even unheard, he's not wrong. Haines is working on producing an album by John Moore- one of a succession of drummers for the Jesus and Mary Chain. Haines writes a ditty with the chorus "Life is Unfair. Kill yourself or Get Over it"- the kind of song that only a female could sing- so he hires Moore and Sarah Nixey and the book ends with the formation of Black Box Recorder.
I could not put it down. It is like Haines's best musical work in that it's irreverent but also often very funny. Haines only way of apology is the intro where he says this is the way he felt in his 20s and clearly he does not think such things now.
Intentionally or not, the book also does a tremendous job of setting the musical climate at the beginning of each chapter. For example, the first Auteurs release comes out in a world listening to the Shamen and/or Tad. Though there are moments where Britpop is mainstream, we are reminded throughout that the pop charts are always ruled by the Pop World- Jacko, Whitney, Mariah, Take That, Spice Girls and Elton. Rock music is always the footnote.
June 28, 2025
I really enjoyed that. But Luke Haines is not someone who I would particularly like to spend any time with. He is angry, hateful, egotistical and frankly unhinged. But, importantly, he KNOWS that he is all of these things. His writing is funny and bitchily entertaining. And the Auteurs were a much underrated band, in my opinion. Recommended for fans of semi obscure early nineties Indie.
December 4, 2015
The thought occurs to me that this reads an awful lot like a kind of darkly comic novel about a cartoon misanthrope of a rock singer becoming steadily more frustrated at how the world is overlooking his obvious genius and repeatedly sabotaging his own career. Or perhaps that it is a Half Man Half Biscuit song in prose.
Which is a roundabout way of saying I think it would be perfectly possible to enjoy this book without caring in the slightest about who the Auteurs were, because it's very funny. In fact, it might even help, because it would leave open the possibility that they really were as good as Luke Haines says they were (they weren't) or else alternatively that they were comically awful and his entire career was an act of utter folly (they weren't).
Maybe it's the distance that the near twenty years between when all this happened and his getting around to writing it, but he appears wryly amused by his own misfortune. And the utter lack of a sense of proportion is a comic affectation isn't it? I mean "Hut releases After Murder Park by the Auteurs on 1 March 1996. Twelve days later on 13 March, Thomas Hamilton murders 16 children and one adult at Dunblane Primary School. Timing is everything" is intended as a joke, isn't it? It's fun to have some of my prejudices confirmed - he appears on the pilot episode of TFI Friday and finds Chris Evans every bits as objectionable as I'd assumed him to be. If the Luke Haines of this book really is as he says, and is not just a comic creation, I'm not sure I'd ever want to meet him, but it's certainly fun to read about his exploits.
Which is a roundabout way of saying I think it would be perfectly possible to enjoy this book without caring in the slightest about who the Auteurs were, because it's very funny. In fact, it might even help, because it would leave open the possibility that they really were as good as Luke Haines says they were (they weren't) or else alternatively that they were comically awful and his entire career was an act of utter folly (they weren't).
Maybe it's the distance that the near twenty years between when all this happened and his getting around to writing it, but he appears wryly amused by his own misfortune. And the utter lack of a sense of proportion is a comic affectation isn't it? I mean "Hut releases After Murder Park by the Auteurs on 1 March 1996. Twelve days later on 13 March, Thomas Hamilton murders 16 children and one adult at Dunblane Primary School. Timing is everything" is intended as a joke, isn't it? It's fun to have some of my prejudices confirmed - he appears on the pilot episode of TFI Friday and finds Chris Evans every bits as objectionable as I'd assumed him to be. If the Luke Haines of this book really is as he says, and is not just a comic creation, I'm not sure I'd ever want to meet him, but it's certainly fun to read about his exploits.
January 1, 2011
Well, I'm sorry, Luke, but The Auteurs? I'd heard of Blur, Pulp, Oasis and even Kula Shaker, but not The Auteurs. Nor Luke Haines. He seems to have some sort of reputation in the music business, however, and this is his recollection, or dismissal, of the Britpop years. Told in a very distinctive voice, Haines bitches about everyone in the industry from producers to musicians, roadies, sound engineers and management. But he is funny with it, and never pretends that his views are anything other than his own. Britpop is slaughtered as a marketing man's invention and Haines wonders how it ever took off and why bands were lumped into it - all to try and sell English bands to America, as far as he is concerned. Nobody made it, apart from Radiohead, who I'm sure will be chuffed to be classed as a Britpop act themselves.
The Autueurs, currently residing in the where are they now file, were broken up by Haines and he went off to pursue a mild obsession with what he classed terrorist chic. Never really in the limelight in the first place, Haines often seems to quite crave it while slagging off the more mainstream acts that became successful. He often alludes to this, in the same way that he hints that his hate-filled persona is all a bit of an act and, underneath it all, he does quite like and care for people around him.
A funny and oddly engaging book, if I ever want to remember anything about Britpop (which I doubt!) I'd come back to read this.
The Autueurs, currently residing in the where are they now file, were broken up by Haines and he went off to pursue a mild obsession with what he classed terrorist chic. Never really in the limelight in the first place, Haines often seems to quite crave it while slagging off the more mainstream acts that became successful. He often alludes to this, in the same way that he hints that his hate-filled persona is all a bit of an act and, underneath it all, he does quite like and care for people around him.
A funny and oddly engaging book, if I ever want to remember anything about Britpop (which I doubt!) I'd come back to read this.
September 29, 2020
I chose to read this book as I'd read quite a few good reviews for it and it had been on my list of books to read for years so I knew from reading reviews beforehand that the book was acerbic. I thought that it would be peppered with sarcastic, acidic comments on the Britpop era but instead it was page after page of pure bitterness.
I think my main reason for disliking this book was the author, he comes across as a horrible person and he doesn't paint himself with any redeeming features. He's nasty about other more successful musicians and he plays manipulative mind games with his fellow band members and largely treats them with contempt.
The whole book felt like a bitter diatribe against anyone who was even vaguely more successful than he was in the music industry whilst at the same time being a deluded memoir about how talented and great he is. I was left feeling pleased that the bands he slagged off such as Oasis and The Verve had achieved more success than he had.
I might be missing the point, a lot of people have given this book a high rating, maybe it's a joke that I don't get, maybe the author was conciously trying to paint himself as a pantomime villain or maybe the nastiness is a persona but I didn't like it. The bitterness was at times overpowering but it did ease off slightly towards the end of the book but never to the point that it was redeeming. I don't recommend.
I think my main reason for disliking this book was the author, he comes across as a horrible person and he doesn't paint himself with any redeeming features. He's nasty about other more successful musicians and he plays manipulative mind games with his fellow band members and largely treats them with contempt.
The whole book felt like a bitter diatribe against anyone who was even vaguely more successful than he was in the music industry whilst at the same time being a deluded memoir about how talented and great he is. I was left feeling pleased that the bands he slagged off such as Oasis and The Verve had achieved more success than he had.
I might be missing the point, a lot of people have given this book a high rating, maybe it's a joke that I don't get, maybe the author was conciously trying to paint himself as a pantomime villain or maybe the nastiness is a persona but I didn't like it. The bitterness was at times overpowering but it did ease off slightly towards the end of the book but never to the point that it was redeeming. I don't recommend.
January 14, 2009
For the past fifteen years Luke Haines has been producing a solid body of music in a number of different guises, the best known of which is the Auteurs. If you haven’t heard of him, it’s because his musical destiny is to forever sit on the periphery of the British music scene. There was a time, in the early days, however, where he sought success but saw the ascending star of his band cruelly bumped aside in favour of the musical phenomenon of the mid-nineties, Britpop.
Since then Haines’ career has been willfully contrarian, turning out radio friendly ditties about missing children, airplane accidents, and the rotten underbelly of British life, all served up with a dose of irony and venom. That he has taken that venom and placed it in a memoir, Bad Vibes (2009) is an exciting prospect, and its subtitle, Britpop and My Part in its Downfall, practically guarantees he won’t mince his words, given previous soundbites on the movement in the press.
Read my full review here.
Since then Haines’ career has been willfully contrarian, turning out radio friendly ditties about missing children, airplane accidents, and the rotten underbelly of British life, all served up with a dose of irony and venom. That he has taken that venom and placed it in a memoir, Bad Vibes (2009) is an exciting prospect, and its subtitle, Britpop and My Part in its Downfall, practically guarantees he won’t mince his words, given previous soundbites on the movement in the press.
Read my full review here.
August 6, 2011
Britpop. Who gives a shit really? I certainly don't but this is a bloody good book. With success seemingly inevitable during the mid 90's, Luke Haines throws his toys out of the pram and instead starts writing songs about child murder, aircraft disasters, suicide pacts and Baader-Meinhof. Commercial oblivion ensues while Blur, Oasis, Pulp et al go stratospheric (in Britain at least).
Haines takes no prisoners at all and describes the mostly mediocre scenesters that surround him with gleeful bile. The prose washes over one in wave after wave of
scabrous misanthropy but one never loses sight of the fact that Haines is someone who absolutely beieves in the transcendant power of music and accurately sees the NME lauded, over-praised music of his time as being utterly inconsequential and facile. Some of the scenes are beyond the pale, luridly weird - the LSD-assisted trepanation attempt especially stands out in my mind.
A pop memoir well worth reading.
Haines takes no prisoners at all and describes the mostly mediocre scenesters that surround him with gleeful bile. The prose washes over one in wave after wave of
scabrous misanthropy but one never loses sight of the fact that Haines is someone who absolutely beieves in the transcendant power of music and accurately sees the NME lauded, over-praised music of his time as being utterly inconsequential and facile. Some of the scenes are beyond the pale, luridly weird - the LSD-assisted trepanation attempt especially stands out in my mind.
A pop memoir well worth reading.
March 9, 2011
What a difficult book to pin down - its almost like an anti-autobiography
This tells the story, in his own words, of the short but important music career of Luke Haines, leader of the band The Auteurs, and his struggles with his own identity and how he despised the music scene around him.
For the most part, the book is packed with bile and hatred, and self importance on the part of the author, almost to the point that you start to despise LH with the same venom he despises his contemporaries. That, however, is part of the trick of the book - between these lines, this is Haines telling us about his fragility, his jealousy and his bigger hopes and failed dreams.
Laugh out loud funny, ascerbic yet moving and sad in equal measure. A definitive fly on the wall document of the rise of UK Britpop
Brilliant!
This tells the story, in his own words, of the short but important music career of Luke Haines, leader of the band The Auteurs, and his struggles with his own identity and how he despised the music scene around him.
For the most part, the book is packed with bile and hatred, and self importance on the part of the author, almost to the point that you start to despise LH with the same venom he despises his contemporaries. That, however, is part of the trick of the book - between these lines, this is Haines telling us about his fragility, his jealousy and his bigger hopes and failed dreams.
Laugh out loud funny, ascerbic yet moving and sad in equal measure. A definitive fly on the wall document of the rise of UK Britpop
Brilliant!
December 8, 2023
This is one of those ‘Am I going to give it 3 or 4 stars’ books. I want to give it 4 because Haines has a fantastic turn of phrase and is cuttingly acerbic about a lot of the hoopla surrounding the Britpop era. But I want to deduct a star simply because Haines is a misanthropic bastard who rivals Alan Partridge for the ‘...but I had the last laugh’ moment when in reality he didn’t.
And that for me was the ‘it’s going to be a 3 stars’ moment. He was a shit, realised he was being a shit, continued to be a shit, doesn’t really seem to have grown (up) much, learned or reflected on his shittiness either. The makings of a great ‘character’ or national anti-treasure even, but spending time seeing the world through his curmudgeonly bitter perspective isn’t somewhere you want to dally too long.
But then Haines won that 4th star back in his description of Chris Evans.
And that for me was the ‘it’s going to be a 3 stars’ moment. He was a shit, realised he was being a shit, continued to be a shit, doesn’t really seem to have grown (up) much, learned or reflected on his shittiness either. The makings of a great ‘character’ or national anti-treasure even, but spending time seeing the world through his curmudgeonly bitter perspective isn’t somewhere you want to dally too long.
But then Haines won that 4th star back in his description of Chris Evans.
August 9, 2011
This is great. If you're interested in the whole Brit Pop period and the work of Luke Haines. I must admit The Auteurs passed me by ( but this book has made me want to investigate further) I did like Blur, elastica and very early Oasis. He's particularly scaborous about all of them and the second and third division bands of the time. But he also reserves plenty of ire for himself.
I would have prefered more on Black Box Recorder, but hey.
More please. Whether's it's music or books.
Further reading: That John Harris book on Britpop that tries to link it with the whole Blair New Labour vision thang. However it would seem way too earnest after reading Bad Vibes.
I would have prefered more on Black Box Recorder, but hey.
More please. Whether's it's music or books.
Further reading: That John Harris book on Britpop that tries to link it with the whole Blair New Labour vision thang. However it would seem way too earnest after reading Bad Vibes.
March 23, 2009
Luke Haines is an under-appreciated genius; The Auteurs were one of the coolest bands of the 90s, and I like to think by association they made me a little cooler at college, and Baader Meinhof - terrorist chic anyone?
Haines covers the lives of both these bands and just touches on the beginnings of Black Box Recorder, whilst taking the piss out of all his so-called Britpop peers in his usual misanthropic style.
When you realise what currently clutters up the charts, and compare it to Haines at his acerbic best, it makes you miss the curmudgeonly git even more.
Haines covers the lives of both these bands and just touches on the beginnings of Black Box Recorder, whilst taking the piss out of all his so-called Britpop peers in his usual misanthropic style.
When you realise what currently clutters up the charts, and compare it to Haines at his acerbic best, it makes you miss the curmudgeonly git even more.
August 24, 2022
Alle Scheiße außer mir! Das könnte man als Fazit unter diese Memoiren von Luke Haines (The Auteurs, Blackbox Recorder, Baader Meinhof) setzen; von einem der auszog, um Britpop den Krieg zu erklären. Oder zumindest bei jeder Gelegenheit klarzumachen, wie unerträglich er dieses Genre fand. Und das ist sehr vergnüglich erzählt, Mr. Haines ist eine Giftspritze der Extraklasse und ätzt gegen alles und jeden, dass es eine Freude ist. Vor allem, wenn ein Großteil der Gehassten auch zu den eigenen Haßobjekten zählt!
August 17, 2019
a winning triple-threat- a blokey rock biography about the 90s. the auteurs are a pretty shit band, but as you peel through the seemingly endless layers of haines' ceaseless braggartry, you end up with a winning portrait of an angry young man who cashed in early, made just enough of a ruckus while he could, and carved a lucrative niche out of his sour, sacred-cow slaughtering cynicism. that's a whole lot more honest than noel and liams pathetic coked-out middle age dithering, so fair play to the chap.
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