Hi, please tell me where Who Killed Martin Hannett?: The Story Of Factory Records Musical Magician by Colin Sharp reading look spanish via bookHi, please tell me where Who Killed Martin Hannett?: The Story Of Factory Records Musical Magician by Colin Sharp reading look spanish
I felt pretty achieved after finally managing to hunt down a copy of the only definite work dedicated to Martin Hannett, the genius/madman producer of Factory Records, given that prices for even used copies hover at around £30 online. Whether the biography is actually rare or just subject to rather lucrative pricing I have no idea, but Id been looking forward to finding out more information on the man after countless of other Factory Records related books.I really wanted to like, no, love this book, because the subject matter is personally dear to me. But the problem I have with Who Killed Martin Hannett? is that I cannot overlook its structural flaws for its other merits. Sharp admits right at the beginning that a great deal of the book is simple conjecture; although a friend of the late Hannett, who died in 1991, he attempts to paint a vivid picture of the person Hannett was and became prior to his death by using the memories and recollections of other people, since there is so little information available of him otherwise. This, of course, is a standard biographical procedure in and of itself, but Sharp employs curious methods in reconstructing such subjective views into fact: he repeatedly writes of Hannetts experiences in past tense, where the events are supposedly focalized by Hannett himself.The effect is both comical and problematic, because it demands the reader to repeatedly buy into Sharps personal theories on what Hannet may or may not have felt during specific moments of his life; not enough effort is made, I feel, to argue that there is any basis for some of these assumptions. Should the experiences, which range from Hannetts colleagues to casual drug buddies, be presented in the form of interviews, I feel the overall feel would not escalate into melodrama and barely feasible theatrics; as they exist in the book now, they feel little more than contrived and unnecessary.On the upside, what the book does succeed in is recounting Hannetts legacy for those who may be more unfamiliar with his production work outside of bands like Joy Division and Happy Mondays. His drug addiction is heavily featured, portraying a rather bleak but realistic image of a man driven by his demons and, like so many of his kind, finding temporary solace in drugs. Sharp may not be completely aware of the conventions of biographical work, at least not enough to employ non-conventional modes successfully, but even with his technical flaws the actual life of Martin Hannett can be pieced together to a satisfying degree.Looking back, should I have spent £30 on this book? Probably not. But until someone writes a more thorough account on Martin Hannetts life --which sounds like a rather unlikely prospect given the reclusive aspects of his personality-- Im glad to own the one that at least bothers writing one at all.
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