There has never been a more “afterword” book than this ever in the entire history of humanity.
The unnamed narrator and his friend James form a club called “The Forensic Records Society” which meets in their local pub on a Monday. The idea is for every member to bring three singles which they listen to forensically. No commenting or reviewing allowed, you just listen. James, however is a bit of a tyrant and his no nonsense enforcements of the rules leads to rival societies being formed; the “Confessional Records Society” on a Tuesday and the “Perceptive Record Society” on a Wednesday.
The books starts off has a sort of tribute to High Fidelity; an amusing riff on the behaviour of blokes. It kind of becomes a parable about political schism. Yes I did think it was about the Bolshevik / Menshevik split, but it’s always amusing; think Animal Farm but jokey.
What it gets right is the behaviour of men. Men who know too much about music. There’s a really neat bone chucked to these men as well, who are mocked throughout the book. Only song titles are mentioned, the artists are not. You can read this and play “guess the artist from the title.”
Obviously I think that this is the greatest book ever written in the entire history of literature. It’s brilliant deadpan fun and I simply cannot imagine anyone who spends any time here disliking it in the slightest.
Length of Read:Short
Might appeal to people who enjoyed…
High Fidelity, singles, The Afterword
One thing you’ve learned
Actual blokes rarely appear in fiction. Magnus Mills is really good at them though.