I received 2 rock autobiographies this Christmas - this one and Thomas Gabriel Warriors, from Celtic Frost. This allows a useful comparison, as one is written by a man who clearly struggles with the nuances of the English language and the other is written by an erudite guy from Switzerland who can remember what actually happened in some detail (a plus point for a biography). Whereas Warrior is aware of his shortcomings (and his deserved greatness) and wears his heart very much on his sleeve Di'anno has all the sensitivity of a rhinoceros in labour.
From the outset of this tabloid newspaper styled expose he wants to lay down his manly credentials - I am Di'anno the former singer with Iron Maiden and if you mess with me I'll smash your teeth in. To prove the point upfront, so that there is no doubt of his credentials, we get a couple of random juicy anecdotes at the beginning of this rag to prove how `ard he is. This irrational and angry style permeates thereafter and if you want to avoid the tiresome prospect of reading the book yourself it goes unrelentingly something like this:
`I think I was in this club doing the big rock star thing, cos I'm Paul Di'anno of Iron Maiden, and there's this ******* punk giving me the evil eye cos I am Paul Di'anno lead singer with Iron Maiden. Now I can't put up with this as people are watching and they all know how hard I am in me leathers and studs and, cos I am Paul Di'anno, I give him the come on if your `ard enough look - he comes at me swinging but I got a bottle hidden (or was it a chair, I can't recall), which he didn't see, so I smashes it on his head and he's going down, no messing. Two kicks to the head with me cowboy boots have the **** out but I aint finished yet so I smash him hard again - he ain't gonna forget me in a hurry, ha! ha! Anyway, there's this gorgeous city bird watching me, all dolled up like in suit and bowler hat (I can't remember really), and thinking I am the cool rock star so I goes up to her, all suave as you like, and pretty soon she's got her laughing gear all over me Bruce ****inson, cos I am Paul ****** Dianno of ******* Iron Maiden.'
What makes this unrelenting diatribe even harder to stomach is the point where Paul, after 200 pages of mindless violence and endless sinful fornication with anything that breathes, `obviously' converts to Islam - the reason that Paul gives for this road to Damascus conversion is that Islam is totally more hard core than Christianity....(I am not making this up) - what this is meant to mean is simply left to the readers imagination. And when his new beliefs on the self proclaimed religion of peace are questioned by a guy in a bar Paul's obvious response is, well you guessed it, to smash his face in..... (even Paul wonders at the delicious irony of all of this).
After losing the will to carry on past the conversion from one deity to another deity I am left baffled as to what to make of this once iconic singer (in metal circles at least). It's quite a feat to project yourself in such a way that you can leave the reader totally cold to you as a person. However, this would probably make a `great' B Movie if the title were changed slightly. Unfortunately Steve Martin has already made `The Jerk' so it'll simply have to be called `The boast'.