A rollicking read

Sellers' biography is a jaw-dropping account of their twisted, tortured, politically incorrect lives

Robert Sellers gleefully follows the seedy lives of the four liver-abusing actors as they drink, brawl and shag their way through the decades into eventual oblivion

The best book we've ever read involving binge drinking, botched stage entrances, Hollywood floozies and British movie stars . . . Sometimes the form of a piece so perfectly fits its content you can actually hear the angels of accordance purr. Such is the case with Hellraisers . . . The sprightly smash 'n dash of the prose so wonderfully captures the wanton belligerence of both bingeing and stardom you almost feel the guys themselves are telling the tales

Unputdownable ... Sports book of the half-century, you might even say

A compulsive read, part Oswald Spengler, part Spike Millligan, and very, very funny

Luke Haines was a delusional, cruel, pompous and arguably cloth-eared despot throughout the 90s. If he wasn't such a viciously funny writer, he'd have made an excellent music journalist...A beautifully acerbic and elegant portrayal of a committed misanthrope unleashing the titular bad vibes upon music business doofuses, from telling Chris Evans to fuck off to jumping off a 15-foot wall and breaking his ankles to get out of a European tour. "I have become a fully fledged cunt," declares Haines proudly. What's not to love?

These recollections of a bitter former pop star could be mistaken for a great comic novel ... Compelling ... An entertaining read ... Haines is as funny as he is grumpy ... The formless unpredictable life of the minor rock musician, forever jetting about on unspecified "promotional" duties or being loaded on to a tour bus like cargo rather than talent, has rarely been captured so acutely ... Bad Vibes, good book

Hilariously unchummy, pugnacious and elegantly embittered

Alex James' A Bit of a Blur this is not...That's all the better, though, as this relentless nihilism stretches hilariously, snidely, and more often than not bitterly, across 256 pages. There's Auteurs insights aplenty should you want it and a bloody good read besides if you don't. Light reading it ain't. Thrilling reading it most certainly is

In this acidic counterweight to the story of the flag-waving pop elite documented in John Harris's Britpop romp The Last Party, Haines casts himself as the Britpop pariah, glaring through the window at the self-congratulatory oiks laughing inside ... There are enough punch-ups, bad drugs, mind games, self-sabotage, lunatic fans and bizarre self-surgery to make Bad Vibes occasionally read like No One Here Gets Out Alive were it written about Philip Larkin rather than Jim Morrison ... This is an imperious and wincingly amusing memoir that's often so sharp it could take your eye out

Hilariously bilious ... Haines is wonderfully frank about his sometimes ridiculous behaviour ... and hilariously evokes The Auteurs' slow unravelling

Witty, anecdotal and relentlessly vitriolic, this is a no-holds-barred demon exorcism by a man who clearly wants everyone to hate him. And, er, you will

Undeniably entertaining

As far as I'm concerned, Luke Haines is Jesus Christ ... (His memoir) succeeds admirably...You can read it for the tales of mental breakdown and excess ... You can read it for the acid portraits of most major Britpop players ... But what catches the imagination and separates it and distinguishes Bad Vibes from most rock biogs, is Haines' relationship with the music itself and a culture that surrounds it ... The piercing and honest appraisals of actual songs surprises. Not many musicians do this, and Haines does so fearlessly, extolling and lacerating his output as much as everyone else

As frontman for The Auteurs in the nineties, Haines inadvertently kicked off Britpop and, boy, does he blame himself. This memoir lays bare the reality of a life spent lumped in with the champagne Charlies of "Cool Britannia"

An entertaining insight into the career of The Auteurs' Luke Haines ... An amusing read ... Pithily narrated

The gospel according to Luke Haines is bitter and bitchy, but rock's great misanthrope makes no apologies

Obnoxious, furious, hugely entertaining'

This book is the yin to Kill Your Friends' yang. Fact rather than fiction, yet far more literary than that nefarious romp, it's an arch but exquisitely written collection of vignettes of band life, '90's culture and pinprick-accurate character assassinations. Haines is not a sympathetic character: a depressive drunk, terminally snobbish, veering politically to the right and addicted to mindgames, he is in his own words "a bitter face pressed against the French window, sneering" at the music industry's "bourgeois dinner party". But even if you don't agree with a word he says, it's impossible to deny his self-awareness, consistency and clarity if expression as he despairs at the cheeky, chirp idiocy of Britpop and sabotages his own successes. Not only an essential music book, but a gripping, weighty and perversely inspirational piece

A wonderfully disaffected memoir, bleak, venomous and hilarious by turns

Proving that pen and the sword are mightiest when used in conjunction ... Haines's prolific spleen, pasty English wit and peerless way with a smartly tailored insult was always going to make his memoir essential reading

If you ... take each anecdote in the catty, cautionary spirit in which it is intended, Haines' story of minor stardom is as entertaining as Spinal Tap ... it's a well-told version of a well worn story: that of a man finding comfort from staying on the outside, looking in

A very readable, and fairly cautionary tale

What sets the book apart is the author's couldn't-give-a-toss attitude that spares no one, least of all himself. Haines charts his part in the 1990's British music scene that culminated in "annoying" Blur versus "crap new comedy band" Oasis. Haines is perfectly placed to sneer: his band, The Auteurs, along with Suede, had been clever forerunners of the scene he can't (aside from the subtitle) bring himself to name and he can only look down on an era in which "art is replaced by popular culture"

Emotional and psychological complications are the engine that drives Bad Vibes, the outrageously indiscreet memoirs of the singer and songwriter Luke Haines. Aggressive, vainglorious, insecure and forever teetering on the brink of another meltdown, Haines strides (or hobbles) through a highly personalised account of the great Britpop wars of the 1990s, insulting virtually everyone involved. While Oasis, Blur and Suede rule the charts, Hanes hangs around on the fringes in his own groups the Auteurs and, later, the Baader Meinhof Gang, too cool or too wasted to embrace success even when offered to him on a plate. Bad Vibes turns casual misanthropy into an art form, and makes a brilliant read in the process

Witheringly funny ... A rock memoir in the misanthropic vein of Lucky Jim

it's pretty much the best-written book I've ever read by a musician. He has a superb deadpan style. You will call people and read bits over the phone

As acerbic and hilarious as you'd expect from a man who thought it completely reasonable to call a pop single "Unsolved Child Murder." Haines clearly relishes - and shines in - his role as the Ancient Mariner at the Britpop party

Clapton fills in many gray areas, recounting his highs and lows with a thoughtfulness often lacking rock memoirs.Methodically he whittles away at the larger-than-life rock god until a vulnerable, messed-up mortal emerges...Clapton is an absorbing tale of artistry, decadence and redemption.It's also an important reminder of the guitarist's imprint on rock music, as a sideman, solo artist and bandleader.Not bad for a blues snob from Surrey.

Clapton: The Autobiography does what many rock historians couldn't: It debunks the legend, de-mythologizes one of the most mythologized electric guitarists ever, puts a lie to the glamour of what is means to be a rock star...It's a cautionary tale that spills over into tragedy several times as love, lives and talents are all wasted.

Like the bluesmen who inspired him, Clapton has his share of scars...his compelling memoir is... a soulful performance.

Charming and surprisingly candid.

Absolutely brilliant