Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating * * * * *

The pursuit of recording history is almost everything that is real, but it is only so because of the people that report on the present they lived through.

To live through history in any chosen field, to become part of it, weave the words that capture the moment with sincerity is to then make sure it is documented with grace, humility, and if left to the truly skilful, with more than a fair share of humour attached to the project.

Such is the persuasive, insightful, and honest appraisal of his own life, it comes as no surprise to the fans of the much admired Merseyside writer and reviewer, Spencer Leigh, should turn his eye from writing in-depth appraisals of artists such as Little Richard, Elvis Presley, Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, and celebrate with justification turning 80 and looking back with a wide eye and dignity of fact at the wonder of life, music, and everything.

Spencer Leigh’s 80 @ 80 – A Liverpool Life In 80 Chapters reveals a sizeable proof of existence, that to have seen life is to have been part of it, and perhaps it could be argued that in the city by the Mersey there is scope for the ambitious, for the engaged mind, to be part of something that no other city in the U.K. can offer; this is the place for the bold, the talented, and the dedicated to leave their mark for all time.

Some autobiographies are too grand for their own good, they indulge the subject rather than the space they occupy in time, and it can become dull, bordering on the indifferent, and too easily shelved on a bookcase soon covered in dust. The art of communication is in its sincerity and enjoyment, keep the message short, expand when it requires the point to hit home, and some writers such as Spencer Leigh do this with an ease which gives the reader the inspiration to be as good, to aim as high, as the person in question.

80 @ 80 – A Liverpool Life In 80 Chapters is not to be seen as the secret reveal, but as the conformation of memories, personal highs, a moment of sheer hell at the hands of a person who exhibited extreme paranoia, it is a love story from one man to the city which he plied his trade, and his insight, a matter of cherished memories laid bare, of the reason he came to be the writer he has been, and the groove of music that dominated it.

The stories within the book are accessible, they are rich with information and a sense of bliss in achieving so much in life, they also a fantastic glimpse of pathos as one tale of brilliant talent not being fully realised in the life of Stephen Murray, otherwise known as Timon, or Tymon Dogg, a man to whom you feel as lover of music you should know more about, but to which feels as though has been robbed from the rapture of musical pleasure. It is in this that offers the dichotomy and antipathies of fulfilment and the loss of expectant results.

One of the most dedicated servants to the cause of pushing art, of reporting on the truth of the pursuit of music, Spencer Leigh deserves his plaudits and the honour that comes from this particularly fascinating autobiography.

Ian D. Hall