For a year or two back in the mid 90’s (mid 94 to mid 96 to be almost precise), a musical (press-created) phenomenon, exclusive to these great isles, ruled the music waves and popular culture. Partially borne of the preceding (yet again music press-created.) New Wave of New Wave false-starter and a dose of 60’s Mod and 70’s Punk flavours for good measure, the musical force was termed Britpop and, despite all of its dissenters, retro sign posts and hidden agendas, it signalled a golden and positive period of – dare I say – Pop music. The end finally came when being dragged to its knees by the 1997 shot in the heart of the famous Blair and Noel meeting. While the sun shone on the scene and much seemed possible, however, Louise Wener’s band, Sleeper - for which she was singer, guitarist and leader - were very much a part of it all.
Part ‘coming of age’ pop kid ‘wannabee pop star’ biography, remaining part a Britpop era inside account, ‘Just For One Day’ is a story of the rise and fall of the aspirations, musical experiences and integrity questioning of the leader of a substantial member of the Britpop fraternity. Engaging, witty, warm, personal and charming, Louise approaches her life story from a Smash hits-buying Jam and Adam Ant fan (the latter, if only to impress a prospective boyfriend) and playing The Human League’s ‘Dare’ to death right through to controversy-courting music press cover star with a welcome honesty and flair for self-depreciation coupled with a no-holds-barred amusingly human touch.
Arriving into the world during the middle of an iconic time of glory for Brit football (the 1966 World Cup win), Louise’s early years are particularly well told. From asthmatic geek (‘singing along to my favourite records makes my lungs a little less wheezy’) to Indie scene star and Britpop scene agitator, the journey is one worth sharing… fun, innocent, often naïve and always honest and forthcoming. For Louise, like a whole generation of teenagers – most of whom, unfortunately, never have the confidence to make it past the bathroom mirror performance, ‘music is transporting, a way for a shy, dreamy kid to be something more substantial, more glamorous.’ By around three-quarters of the way through the book (following years of false starts in the Indie ghetto), the dream is almost realised and for a short period of hedonistic, drink and drugs-masked stardom it is fully embraced.
There follows a time of Blur support slots, music weekly front covers and fashion mag photo shoots, journo-baiting, foreign tours, a critically-applauded debut album, TV shows, sex icon status, boyfriend swapping in own band, the career-defining first Top of the Pops appearance, fellow Britpop band observations and the dwarfing of a musician’s ego that is the USA. The whole picture is painted complete, leaving barely a stone unturned; never a page failing to entice and amuse with refreshing myth-destroying anecdotes and the inner thoughts of life in a band on the road all told from a mouthy-anti-PC spouting-press-goading Britpop laddette (ahhh...) with a pout.
But that last assumption is only a small (partly) media-viewed side to Louise: beneath all the press rants and Pop star extravagances (something which, Louise - after years of aiming towards and finally getting to lap up, realises are something of only temporary enjoyment and -often- availability)… beneath all of that front, lies a sensitive, insecure and ultimately caring individual with a nice knack and individual talent at telling a damn good yarn.
There are very few faults to be picked up on throughout the journey. A few time-line discrepancy’s (so typical of musicians) and a pace that sometimes supersedes itself, aside, the read is an engrossing, surprisingly light-hearted passage of life as seen through the eyes of a music-loving-fame-aspiring lass who ultimately discovers that once dreams are finally tasted, experienced and held within the cusp of everyday life… then the truth- the distances between reality and fantasy- become very blurred and not that exciting and worthwhile at all. Not surprisingly, the trappings of fame and the character assassination, shallowness and greed of the music industry is revealed for what it truly is and I suppose, in hindsight, the whole experience of fame was all well and fine… just for one day...
Tony Beesley is the author of the ‘Our Generation’ trilogy of books (of which the final volume ‘This is Our Generation Calling’ covers the Britpop era) and ‘Kid on a Red Chopper Bike: a ride through the 1970’s’ All available from good book stores and online, including the official website www.ourgenerationpunkandmod.co.uk
© Words – Tony Beesley/ ZANI Media
