Teagan Hollis: Tony Banks – A Life Spent Crafting Sonic Landscapes – review

A novel about Tony Banks?

Even before Mario Giammetti published his impressive Tony Banks biography Man of Spells, a slim volume by an unknown author appeared almost unnoticed. At first glance this to seems to be a biography of Tony Banks. The book comprises just under 175 pages, which are also rather generously spaced. I finished reading it in about two hours – and found myself wondering after just a few pages: "What on earth is this?"

The confusion begins with the cover: it shows a man looking down at his fingers on a keyboard. He resembles the Tony Banks of recent years, but it is highly unlikely to be him. Was artificial intelligence at work here? Fair enough if there was no budget for illustrations – there are no pictures inside the book anyway. But the oddities continue in terms of content too: for instance, the author claims he asked Banks to contribute to the book and describes this involvement as 'limited'.

Furthermore, he claims to have interviewed numerous people without ever documenting who these individuals are or what sources he relies on – even previously published works are not being referred to. A discography and bibliography of the works and interviews used, announced in the front section of the book, simply does not exist. This comes across as unprofessional at best, if not downright dubious.

The further one reads, the greater the sense of alienation becomes. The author gives the impression of having gained intimate insights into Tony Banks' life, but embellishes these with flowery phrasing that, particularly in the early chapters, constantly engages in a kind of 'foreshadowing'. Everything seems – albeit only in subtle hints – to point towards Banks' later musical career.

To be fair, Hollis repeatedly qualifies this by saying that, naturally, in the early years, no one could have foreseen where the journey would lead. For long stretches – and this brings me to the title of my review – the text reads more like a novelistic, fantastical account of the life and work of a character who bears numerous parallels to our esteemed Genesis keyboardist. It is, however, hard to believe that the notoriously reserved Tony Banks actually would have provided such personal insights into individual stages of his biographical and artistic development. At times, this takes on almost absurd proportions, for instance in passages such as this:

"He walked through London with a quiet focus, hearing progressions that would eventually become significant parts of their work. He listened to the rhythm of passing traffic, the pattern of voices on the street, and the hum of everyday life. These sounds did not directly influence the music, but they shaped his sense of pacing and movement." (p. 82)

Excuse me? Time and again, the text loses itself in pages of speculation about Banks' inner life and thoughts, which are in no way substantiated – which would be almost impossible to do.

Added to this are factual errors, such as regarding the early history of Genesis, which are incompatible with the accounts we know from numerous documentaries and publications. For instance, the author appears to be completely unaware of the two Genesis precursor bands Garden Wall and Anon. Instead, he spins tales of endless rehearsals in the basement of Charterhouse School, of which nothing has been recorded to date. The only items named as supposed evidence for the band's history are a few Genesis albums, namely Foxtrot, Selling England by the Pound, Invisible Touch, We Can Not Dance [sic!] and Calling All Stations – this curious selection is intended here to illustrate just how patchy the account of the band's history turns out to be: long passages are omitted, there are unexplained jumps in time, etc.

Although there is a separate chapter entitled 'The Solo Explorer', not a single one of Banks' solo albums is mentioned by name in it. Elsewhere, where the focus is actually back on Genesis, Bankstatement does at least make a brief appearance. The chapter on his solo work can essentially be summarised as follows: Banks was, in a sense, inevitably heading towards his orchestral phase after 2000, in which he finally found his true artistic fulfilment.

Time and again, the text paints a picture of a Tony Banks who steadfastly resisted overly strong commercial ambitions. Whilst he is said to have found the band's great success in the 1980s satisfying, Hollis portrays him as though Banks would, in essence, have preferred to make exclusively more sophisticated music. Yet we now know very well that Banks, too, supported and actively helped shape Genesis's greater focus on chart success. One can – to put it somewhat flippantly – hardly claim that he inwardly smacked his own fingers every time he played the hits.

Upon finishing this peculiar book, one is left feeling perplexed. What exactly are we dealing with here? For a serious biography, it lacks thoroughness, transparent references to the sources of the numerous claims, and the necessary care in presenting Tony Banks' work both within and outside Genesis. It is highly doubtful whether Banks himself (whom Hollis celebrates throughout his account) actually played any significant part in the book's creation. Much of it remains too flowery, too fantastical, almost novel-like – and in my view, that is simply not enough for a musician's biography to be taken seriously.

So one cannot help but get the impression – as did a reviewer on Amazon – that someone has simply fired up the AI and sent it off with a very poor prompt. This may even apply to the author's name: according to Amazon reviewer 'R. Barbieri', it is a typical made-up hybrid, in this case likely composed of the name of a romance novelist called Teagan Hunter and her best-known protagonist, Hollis.

So: steer clear of this book!

Author: Jan Hecker-Stampehl