Winston Watusi Music Plus

I've got a couple of books for you
this week.
It was either that or another column hunting round for suitable New Year's Eve entertainment. And since a bunch of fine journalistic types are already covering that beat, let's retreat to the safety of books written by celebrities.
An article the other day told me that for Christmas you should avoid books by celebrity authors. Seems that the trend for every useless C-list reality TV contestant and low-rent celeb is to pen either a self-help or children's book.
So it's all beauty tips and life lessons and the adventures of Cyril the Angry Spider.
The problem is that ‘proper' books – books by actual authors who don't require ghost writers and haven't recently been kicked off insect-infected tropical islands – are being squeezed out of the market. Celebrities, even minor ones,
are dominating online retailers and
shop shelves.

Bob's philosophy
So I guess it's ironic that the two books I want to mention are both by people who are at least as famous as these temporary chancers. But I don't count either of them as celebrities since they have always put their work ahead of their status, not the – these days more common – other way round. I mentioned Bob Dylan's new book a few weeks ago but, rushing as I was, I hadn't fully taken on board quite how weird it is. This is ‘The Philosophy of Modern Song', wherein Dylan examines and opines on 66 songs he holds dear, none of them particularly modern, as well as the artists who performed them.
Meanwhile, film auteur Quentin Tarantino has released an oddly similar book, ‘Cinema Speculation'. In it he examines 13 films he holds dear, none of them particularly modern.
In fact they're all made between 1968 and 1981.
There are also a couple of long pieces about how he discovered movies as a boy and various entertaining 'speculations” such as 'What If Brian De Palma Directed ‘Taxi Driver' Instead of Martin Scorsese?”

Pure entertainment
I have to say, if you're looking for pure entertainment, the Bob-book is pretty funny. He appears to deliberately misinterpret a number of songs just
for kicks.
For instance, he describes Rosemary Clooney's ‘Come On-A My House' – a pretty sweet ‘n' innocent record – as 'the song of the deviant, the paedophile, the mass murderer”. And the dirt he throws at Jackson Browne's ‘The Pretender' is extraordinary: '‘The Pretender' is a menace to both church and society” is how it begins...

Quentin's speculation
A friend suggested to me that if Dylan is not doing it for the money (which he clearly doesn't need) then he must be doing it to see what he can get away with. Whatever the reason for Bob's literary jamming, it can frequently make you laugh out loud.
Meanwhile, Tarantino is smart, focused, and has really done his research, talking to directors, writers, and folk I've never seen quoted before.
His choice of films is quirky to say the least, running from the successful likes of ‘Dirty Harry' and ‘Taxi Driver' to, surprisingly, ‘Daisy Miller' and Sylvester Stallone's ‘Paradise Alley'.
But every essay is fascinating in its detail and the breadth of connections made.
He is particularly good at dissecting ‘70s Hollywood and delineating the Post-Sixties Anti-Establishment auteurs (Robert Altman, Sam Peckinpah, William Friedkin, et al) and the Movie Brat generation that followed them, which included Spielberg, Bogdanovich and Scorsese.

Treasure trove
After the somewhat dubious 'novelisation” of ‘Once Upon A Time In Hollywood' you may be put off Tarantino in print – don't be. This book is an absolute treasure trove for film-lovers. And the two books do overlap; both write about Bobby Darin.
Bobby Darin actually pops up twice in Bob's book, for both ‘Mack The Knife' and ‘Beyond The Sea' and Dylan gives a good pencil sketch of his frustrated movie career.
But Quentin has a better story.
Apparently, Steve McQueen and Darin couldn't stand each other on the set for ‘Hell Is For Heroes'.
When a reporter later mentioned to Bobby that McQueen was his own worst enemy, the Sicilian-tempered Darin shot back: 'Not while I'm alive”.