Jimmy Rabbitte knew his music. He knew his stuff alright.
They were two sentences from the first page of the first book Jimmy Rabbitte had been in, The Commitments.
But, actually, he hadn’t a clue about music.
He did – he used to – back when Doyle wrote The Commitments. But not now, in this new book Doyle’s after writing, The Guts. This thing, ‘feat.’, for example. Like, Pink (feat. Lily Allen). What the fuck was that about? Selfishness – that was what Jimmy thought. Ego. Back in the days when music was roundy, it was ‘and’. It was Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazelwood. They shared the glory. It was Roy Orbison and k.d. lang. It wasn’t Roy (feat. k.d.). It wasn’t Laurel (feat. Hardy), or the Lone Ranger (feat. Tonto). And the ‘feat.’ people; the guests singers or whatever – Jimmy … Read More »
One minute Jimmy Rabbitte was 21. He was the manager of a band called The Commitments,
although they’d just broken up. He’d got over that shock and was just about ready to start a new
band. He’d learnt from the Commitments experience: never let a bollix be your singer, even if he
can sing; and never let your elderly trumpet player ride all, some or even one of the group’s backing
vocalists. Armed with this wisdom, he’d been gearing himself up, listening to new sounds, all set to
knock U2 off their fuckin’ perch.
The next minute he was 48 and he had bowel cancer.
How the fuck did that happen?
The author, Jimmy’s creator, Doyle, heard the word ‘recession’ on the radio one morning a few years
back, and decided to bring Jimmy back. Or, so he’s telling anyone who’ll listen.
Now, if Jimmy was doing one of … Read More »