(Still) Annoying The Neighbours is the Autobiography of JC Carroll
NOW AVAILABLE in HARDBACK
(Still) Annoying The Neighbours is the Autobiography of JC Carroll
NOW AVAILABLE in HARDBACK
From bank clerk to punk rocker, From bedsit in North London to rock and roll heaven in Hollywood, “(still) Annoying the Neighbours” takes its title from the lyrics of The Members anthem “The Sound of the Suburbs” and traces the journey of Members Songwriter and guitarist JC “Jean-marie” Carroll a boy with three girls names catapulted from suburban obscurity into the punk rock limelight and then flung back onto the music business scrap heap ..
It tells the story of a man who is driven to make music, art and clothing a man who is escaping from, but always defined by, the songs of his youth. The book charts his early success through to recording and touring with Legends such as Glen Matlock , Dee Dee Ramone, Johhny Thunders Rat Scabies. Playing accordian for Johnny Depp and Marlon Brando and dressing Kylie Minogue.
It traces his rock and roll journey thru glam, Metal, Rock Punk, Electro, Folk and finally onto the silver screen. Like JC’s songs the book is simulataneously funny sad and triumphant.
With foreword and editorial help by Marley and Strummer Biographer Chris Salewicz and Artwork and Layout by iMages&co New Wave art guru Malcolm Garrett MBE - This is a quality product.
This beautifully bound Hardback book with 234 pages of never before seen photos and priceless memories.
This is what JC writes in his book about his most famous song:-
I felt a responsibility to play "The Sound of the Suburbs". That song could and would bring happiness to people that had grown up to it: it was the sound of their youth and bouncing around to it in a sweaty club for three to four minutes could and would take them back to a time where they were 17 years old with a full head of badly bleached hair, a 28-inch waist, and a fake leather jacket covered in pins and badges. That song was no longer just a song: it had become a time machine, an elixir of yoof, a magic pill that they could neck with a pint of lager to bring that youth club disco in a scout hut spinning back. It was not just a song, it was “The Sound of the Suburbs”. It was the aspirations and ambitions of thousands of bored provincial teenagers from a hundred satellite towns, bottled and aged in a cellophane wallet in a box in the garage, a time-bomb waiting to go off inside the head of a normally sensible 55 year old.
Here is what that say About (Still) Annoying thr Neighbours
From a post-war childhood in a scrubby zone of the home counties in which dishevelled fifties kids fished for tadpoles while the Heathrow jets arced overhead, JC Carroll – ‘the boy with three girls’ names’ – would initially take the prescribed route for a bright lad of that particular setting – a junior position in city banking – before his predilection for rock ’n ’roll sidetracked him entirely, into the emergent world of punk rock. As guitar man for The Members, JC was a driver in the democratisation of that movement, opening it up from an inner-city phenomenon to a rallying call for ‘Suburban Kids’ everywhere. While stardom flared relatively briefly for the Surrey outfit before the time-honoured pop pitfalls derailed the train, Carroll’s well-attuned survivor’s instinct would carry him through an impressive sequence of subsequent ventures. These have included film composition, panto production, and successful endeavours in the world of clothing and fashion. With The Members’ reactivation as a working band in recent years, JC has reconnected with his youthful enthusiasms, and from his present situation as a locked-down musician, looks over his lifetime and career – and the enduring relevance of his best-known composition – with clarity and insight.
VIVE LE ROCK ★★★★★
Naturally, given the subject matter and the author’s ability as a top class raconteur, there are plenty of great anecdotes and characters in the book. Generally, they’re amusing, which makes it all the more effective when you get to a story that stops you in your tracks – a disillusioned Joe Strummer wondering if he can face making music again, trying to record with a perfectly attired but totally out of it Johnny Thunders, JC wishing that just occasionally he could turn off his pounding need to make more music, or the sad conclusion to Rat Scabies’ time with the Members. And of course, just when everything seems to be well, gigging and recording when he wants with people he likes, he’s hit right between the eyes by Covid 19 shutting down all live music. Merch opportunities, recording sessions, all networking or money making options shut down. There’s a lot more I could say about this massively informative and enjoyable book – like the well-chosen black and white photos scattered through the text – but suffice to say it’s a valuable document, recording how things really went down in the early days of punk, and essential reading for anyone who can still feel the exhilaration of something as perfect as ‘Sound of the Suburbs’. So if you still love the sound of that punk-rock electric guitar, this is for you.
LOUDER THEN WAR ★★★★★
songwriter, musician, shopkeeper, Pantomine scriptwriter, film composer and Internet concert performer.From bank clerk to punk rocker, From bedsit in North London to rock and roll heaven in Hollywood, “(still) Annoying the Neighbours” takes its title from the lyrics of The Members anthem “The Sound of the Suburbs” and traces the journey of Members Songwriter and guitarist JC “Jean-marie” Carroll a boy with three girls names catapulted from suburban obscurity into the punk rock limelight and then flung back onto the music business scrap heap .. This is what JC writes in his book about his most famous song:-I felt a responsibility to play "The Sound of the Suburbs". That song could and would bring happiness to people that had grown up to it: it was the sound of their youth and bouncing around to it in a sweaty club for three to four minutes could and would take them back to a time where they were 17 years old with a full head of badly bleached hair, a 28-inch waist, and a fake leather jacket covered in pins and badges. That song was no longer just a song: it had become a time machine, an elixir of yoof, a magic pill that they could neck with a pint of lager to bring that youth club disco in a scout hut spinning back. It was not just a song, it was “The Sound of the Suburbs”. It was the aspirations and ambitions of thousands of bored provincial teenagers from a hundred satellite towns, bottled and aged in a cellophane wallet.
★★★★★
