65 My Life So Far Paperback

Jonathan King (born Kenneth George King, 6 December 1944, London, England) is a British singer, songwriter, TV personality, impresario, and pop music producer. He first came to prominence when he wrote and sang the global hit Everyone s Gone to the Moon in 1965, going on to become an executive and media entrepreneur. He recorded many more songs as well as becoming a writer and producer for various other musical artists. In total he has amassed career sales as a performer in the region of 40 million.

Paperback
600 pages

Featured Reviews:

King Of Books! Welcome then to 65 My Life So Far by pop star, label boss, impresario, presenter, producer, consultant, legend and (according to the popular press) vile pervert Jonathan King. He is left with the freedom to tell the absolute truth, in all its sticky details.

Once school (and a tantalisingly brief university career) is out of the way, the book moves on to Kings years as a celebrity and it is here that the rollercoaster ride truly begins. All too conveniently forgotten is the fact that Jonathan King over a 35 year period found himself at the heart of popular culture, and every single episode of his career is documented with pride. Whether it was through making his own records, discovering and signing acts such as The Bay City Rollers, Genesis and 10cc, presenting on television and radio or rescuing both the Brit awards and the Eurovision Song Contest from the doldrums, Jonathan King has not only been there, done that and worn the t-shirt but as it turns out the branded clothing was his idea in the first place. There are no bold and exaggerated claims made here just about everything you have reason to doubt is backed up with press clippings and memorabilia.

The narrative is peppered throughout with appearances by the great and the good of the music and entertainment business with the odd scandalous revelation along the way. Some are anonymous, some are not, King careful to note the privacy of those still alive to regret their past behaviours. That said I am sure the world is a better place for knowing it was George Harrison who punched one particularly abusive fan in the face when she turned up on his doorstep and thus made himself a hero amongst the other celebrities of the time who had taken the full brunt of her fury.

As a man who found himself falling in love with Sandie Shaw in the 1960s, Jonathan King is certainly far from unique and indeed those who have formed their view of the man based solely on what the newspapers have chosen to write about him recently may even be taken aback slightly by the large number of adult heterosexual encounters and relationships documented here.

Even taken on its own as a set of celebrity memoirs, this section of the book would make for a truly essential publication in its own right. The most astonishing revelations of all are held back for the final chapters of 65 , recounting as they do the events from the day in November 2000 when the police knocked on King s door and announced they were investigating allegations of sexual assault. What follows is an account of the investigation, the subsequent trial, King s conviction and imprisonment and his subsequent release and the ongoing battle to clear his name. Along the way there are breathtaking tales of police incompetence, coaching of witnesses and the British legal system s own cavalier disregard for some of the principles of natural justice even the most naive observer would assume to be taken as read.

Throughout the tale there isn't a single moment of self pity by the author he is at pains to point out that throughout his youth both he and his friends engaged in activities which were technically illegal back then but you cannot help but share his frustration at the way his life and reputation were disrupted by what he demonstrates were the allegations of an fantasist, allegations which in turn prompted other glory seekers to emerge from the woodwork and spin their own tales of abuse in the hope of a compensatory payoff. (Check James Masterton blog for full review)

--James Masterton

Oh, JK! How could you? Or rather, how could you not? So, here it is. Mr Vile Pervert's extraordinary life story, told as a breathless, occasionally careless, romp. I thought I'd speed-read it but a lot of the time I couldn't. I kept on returning to many pages thinking: Did I get that right? Did Jonathan King actually write that as a 13-year-old boy he was having (or had) "passionate encounters" with 65 boys at his public school, Charterhouse? And later, did I read that a sexually passive male friend of his relished being bare-backed by loads of men at gang-bangs, over 1,000 one weekend? In Holland? Belgium? Or was it over one year? And was JK really once an annoyingly ubiquitous national institution whose influence ran through most branches of showbiz? - contributing to the careers of 10cc, Peter Gabriel, Genesis, the Bay City Rollers, Scott Walker et al: why, he even helped bring the The Rocky Horror Show to the masses. You may have to re-read the book just to grasp the full scale of his victories: the popstar (as JK and under his many aliases), the pop promoter, the pop producer, the stage impresario, the TV star, the Eurovision-meister, the tabloid columnist, the blah blah blah. And then the full scale of his spectacular fall from grace. As you'd expect, King's book will offend in many other ways. I have reported already on his revelation of John Lennon's bisexuality. His Jimi Hendrix story, that the star admitted having sex with a female minor, will enrage fans. Bolan and Bowie worshippers will also be irked. King is another one of those Zeligs, like Nicky Haslam - he's been everywhere, knows everyone. And thanks to clean social habits, still remembers. If he remains the sharp-tongued smarmy bighead of lore - even by his own testimony - he also comes across here as big-hearted, broad-minded and resourceful: "I was meeting some fascinating people in Belmarsh," he writes of the jail, "terrorists, rapists, murderers." If you have any kind of showbiz pulse, King's book is an absolute must. But best leave the bourgoeis morality at the door. (Full review on Madame Arcarti blog.)

--Madame Arcarti Blog

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