Around about September of 1948, Mr and Mrs Cyril Wakeman had an early night. And some time later, at Perivale in Middlesex, Mrs Wakeman produced a bonny baby son. They named him Richard, but he quickly became known as Rick.Rick was a likable little fellow who had a talent for the piano (and for making trouble), and music became his life. Later, he joined a popular music group called Yes and became a legend.Much later, he became a Grumpy Old Man who appears on Countdown, hosts a hugely popular radio show on Planet Rock and performs a one-man show telling stories about his rather extraordinary life.That's where this book you comes in. Mr Wakeman is simply one of the great storytellers of our age - let's face it, he has some fabulous material. It seemed a shame that some of the funniest yarns should not be more widely known. So he accepted some cash and here we are.Curl up by the fire with a Grumpy Old Rockstar and your nearest and dearest. We defy you not to listen and laugh.More
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- C. Courtland
This Curmudgeon's favorite "Grumpy Old Rock Star"
Absolutely! Why would anyone NOT want to hear Rick's own voice reading the book rather than hearing some silly professional narrator or random VIH (Voice in Head) stumble through such a flavorful text?
Didn't you read my answer to your first question?!
Not really "laugh"-- more like "chortle." An occasional "guffaw."
Ok, maybe more than once I ended up like Uncle Albert (from Mary Poppins... not the Paul McCartney one), splitting a gut and gasping for breath. Not for the timid, this book
As the "Corner Office Curmudgeon," if not a "Grumpy Old Entrepreneur," I'm at least known as a "snarky Uncle Horace" to many a tech start-up founder and the VC community. And yet I found virtually NOTHING to complain about!
Well, get off if my lawn anyway!
I'm a proud, if a bit gruff child of the 70's and prog rockaholic myself, Rick Wakeman has always been an enigma who in his later years has been reborn as a radio/TV etc. celebrity and has ended up yes (no pun intended) reminding me of snarky Uncle Horace indeed.
Settle in for a spider web of interconnected quirky stories delivered by a grand storyteller and legendary contrarian non-conformist who always seemed to be at the center of near mythical calamities and bizarre going-on associated with the excess of the time and place. I imagine many, many a late night pub outing (non-alcoholic, of course) could be filled with his banter. Should be good for three or four more books, at least.
Can't wait for the audio version-- nothing else will do-- of the author reading the sequel. Until then I guess I'll just have to be satisfied to follow the Premier League and catch another ARW gig.
But if that fat ol' geezer chick with the faded Strawbs T-shirt that was "sitting" in front of me at the last show is there again and spends the night on her feet dancing (more like shuffling) and blocking my view of the "stout" fellow wearing a cape playing keyboards, I'll have to thump her boney head and tell her to squeeze back into her seat. Same with her reed-thin middle-aged companion (who despite all logic, reason and conceivable imagination appeared to be her daughter with a permed, slightly less gray hairstyle) wearing a Union tour tee tied into a halter top.
Sheesh. No respect for elderly, let alone the music. Kids these days..
- Kurt Haug