A cynic with a slightly jaundiced sense of humour might perceive alto saxophonist Peter King as little more than the jazz equivalent of Keith Richards. Like the Stones’ axe god, King – who, perhaps fittingly, has played many times in Charlie Watts’ jazz ensembles – has imbibed such a copious quantity of pharmaceuticals over the years that it’s a wonder he’s still alive.
But Peter King – not to be confused with Ronnie Scott’s co-founder, Pete King – has conquered his addictions and emerged from the wreckage of a drug-addled life relatively unscathed. Mind you, his exploits as a heroin addict in the 60s often take centre stage in this self-penned and highly readable warts-and-all memoir. One of the most eye-opening passages in the book finds King describing how he struck up a friendship with legendary drummer Philly Joe Jones through their mutual predilection for downing BOOK Reviews speedballs (a potent cocktail combining smack and coke).
As a musician, King’s CV is mightily impressive – he’s played with the great and good from the jazz world (including Bud Powell, Anita O’Day, Ray Charles, Ben Webster and Tony Bennett) and provides plenty of wonderful anecdotes from his first-hand encounters with some of the idiom’s biggest names. Laced with humour and leavened with pathos, this candid confessional proves an addictive read.
