Foxy Roxy

Sex Pistols guitarist Steve Jones liked Roxy Music so much his first band was named after one of their songs. Strange then that punk came along and made all that vintage glamour look a bit old, and not in a good way.
Re-make/Re-model is the story of how art, fashion and music combined to create Roxy Music, a group that Bryan Ferry said was ‘above all, a state of mind.’  In 1972 Roxy Music released their first album and Re-make/Re-model explores the years leading up to it; years that saw the dissolution of the boundaries between ‘high’ and ‘low’ art forms and the application of ideas within fine art and the avante garde to the making of mainstream popular culture. 
In describing the birth of the band, Remake/Remodel also follows  British Pop art, born in the fine arts departments of Newcastle and Reading universities, from post-war austerity to ’60s London. The unprecedented access Bracewell had to Ferry, Brian Eno, Phil Manzanera and Andy Mackay creates a fascinatingly detailed look at one of the most original groups of its time.

Autobiographical Honesty – fact or fiction?

A long way goneThe literary world is often spiked with scandals about truth – memoirs where fact and fiction are well and truly blurred. Ishmael Beah’s memoir A long way gone is the latest autobiography under attack. It has been reported that the Ex-child soldier’s literary bestseller is ‘factually flawed’. The Weekend Australian revealed that Beah appears to have been two years older than he claimed when he went to war (15 rather than 13), and served two to three months in the Sierra Leone army (not the two years claimed in his book). The academic who helped Beah with his first draft puts it all down to poetic licence.

Other debates on autobiographical authenticity:

Oprah Winfrey touted the grimy autobiography by James Frey – A million little pieces. But later it became apparent that the drugs, crime and murkiness had been “dirtied up” for dramatic effect. A tell-all report in The Smoking Gun says:

When recalling criminal activities, looming prison sentences, and jailhouse rituals, Frey writes with a swaggering machismo and bravado that absolutely crackles. Which is truly impressive considering that, as TSG discovered, he made much of it up. The closest Frey has ever come to a jail cell was the few unshackled hours he once spent in a small Ohio police headquarters waiting for a buddy to post $733 cash bond.

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