Book review: The Times, 11th May 2007
That's Me in the Corner, Adventures of an Ordinary Boy in
a Celebrity World by Andrew Collins
- Ebury Press, £10.99; 325pp.
Punk and new wave are to blame. A large thwack of their cultural diktat was the sovereignty of under-statement. The music might have been loud and spiky but the personality and its en suite ego was supposed to be subsumed within the greater artistic whole.
So, unlike their predecessors of the 1970s who indulged themselves and their art form merrily, post-punk pundits have progressed gawkily, peering from behind a metaphorical fringe.
Andrew Collins is perhaps most typical; the title and sub-title here sum up the predicament. Along with fellow travellers - Paul Morley, Stuart Maconie, Steve Lamacq and Mark Radcliffe, to name but four - he has moved through dream jobs (editor of Q, scriptwriter for EastEnders) and dream encounters (Johnny Depp, Tom Hanks, Woody Allen) with hands firmly fastened to the handrail of 'ordinariness'.
It is a theme he has panned across three books. They each frame a life lived with the foot ever ready to apply the brake should the etiquette of the just-got-lucky dilettante ever be breached: self-deprecation at all times, avoid succumbing to 'grown-upness' and, most of all, remember your roots, lad.
The premise has proved marketable but the greater force, especially of his latest book, is not this apologetic 'how-did-I get here?' shoe shuffling but the sheer zest for life. Collins is a man (yes, a man: not a boy) who takes risks, has a go, does his best. He gets up early, goes to bed late and, in between, presents radio shows, contributes to magazines and newspapers, scripts sit-coms and writes memoirs. Sometimes he also appears in Dr Who and invents Brit-pop or at least spots it before anyone else does.
At times That's Me in the Corner becomes a punchy self-help book for aspiring journalists: celebrities require ample but subtle flattery; research your subject thoroughly; and should you ever make it to radio, talk slowly if you want to make more sense. He hands out these gilded tips generously and also meticulously relates the inner-workings of the media. He infers that it is a life open to any 'can-do' person but this is to underplay the immense graft and application required, not to mention the wit and imagination that sees Christina Ricca described as having the handshake 'of a clingfilm parcel of apple puree' or the withering put-down he serves up to the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club: 'Ungrateful, monosyllabic, shoe-inspecting berks.'
He gives only tantalising glimpses of his relationship with former sidekick, Stuart Maconie. He admits to professional jealously, however, miffed at Maconie's more highbrow status. He is peeved too when he is not invited back to Newsnight Review after a solitary appearance. These snapshots of vulnerability are fascinating, much like the wider question of why he is so driven and restless.
Hopefully there will be other less self-aware books from Collins, perhaps where he emulates one of his literary heroes, Raymond Carver, and tell us the story of his insecurity and ambition more slowly, more reflectively. It is within his talent.