by Glen Rowlan
CRITICAL REVIEW OF There Will Be Blood OST BY Jonny Greenwood
The music in There Will Be Blood has the sonic asperity of grinding broken glass, but a closer inspection reveals a raw transcendental beauty, accredited to a composer not afraid to draw on influences of 20th century avant-garde techniques for a high-budget Hollywood film.
When you acknowledge the amount of work that goes into the production of a film – the direction, the casting, and so on – the priority of music constitutes a low concern. But the importance is nonetheless crucial. In There Will Be Blood, a Paul Thomas Anderson adaptation of the Upton Sinclair novel Oil!, composer Jonny Greenwood has produced a challenging score that does more than just provide an emotional vehicle; it stands as a work of its own. Richard Davis states a similar view about John Williams’ music for ET: The Extra Terrestrial, and he goes on to say: ‘But when heard in conjunction with the visual...the whole film takes on another dimension’. With the inclusion of music, There Will Be Blood is a beautiful tempest. From the great acting and gripping storyline to the provocatively unsettling soundtrack, I’ve never been so fully engrossed in a film for a long time. The word “beauty” may not fit neatly between the lines in this case, as this is not a happy film (as the title suggests), but what makes the blood run cold is the imagination and fearlessness shown by the creators to colour over the lines and push the boundaries of film-making.
In Anderson’s emotionally-charged drama, emotion whistles to the point of a boiling kettle. The film’s elemental story, set in 1898 and ending in 1927, follows Daniel Plainview, a ferocious oil man striving to find affluence in the wake of the American oil boom, while fathering an adopted son. Oil becomes a symbol of power, and what follows is a greed for oil and wealth, a course that, as the audience is told, will assuredly involve drawing blood. You never know what Plainview is capable of doing to get what he wants. In person he comes off as proud and self-important, but at heart, a family man. In thought, he declares his dislike for “these people”, and as religion takes on the brute force of nature and commerce, things begin to fracture. Finally, when Plainview’s pride is taken from him, he disconcertingly exposes in shocking, sometimes brutal ways his superiority that leaves the audience reeling.
As Daniel Day Lewis gives the performance of his life as Daniel Plainview, Jonny Greenwood, likewise, casually unleashes his inner demons through a series of complex and brash compositions. A shy member of experimental British rock band Radiohead for over 20 years, Greenwood began his musical schooling in 1984 at Abingdon School in Oxford. While taking a fond interest in classical music, he took up the viola, performing with the Thames Vale Youth Orchestra. At the age of 19, he began a course in Music and Psychology at Oxford Polytechnic College which lasted three months, and dropped out to become lead guitarist of Radiohead. Greenwood is generally considered the most musically-gifted member of the band, pioneering and re-inventing Radiohead’s sound by way of introducing new instruments and absorbing new influences from diverse styles such as electronica, jazz and post-modernism.
Over the past 15 years, Greenwood has evolved as a composer. In 2003 he committed himself to his first film scoring project, Bodysong, which is a blend of experimental rock, jazz and avant-garde. It is the sound of a composer working in his comfort zone, whereas Blood is his attempt to broaden his horizons. Invariably looking for new instruments and new sounds for the band, Greenwood stumbled across the ondes Martenot, an electronic instrument and he remembers hearing it for the first time: ‘I first heard Messiaen when I was 15 or 16—the Turangalîla-Symphonie—and just found it magical, especially with the ondes Martenot swooping around with the strings’.
His keen admiration for Messiaen, Penderecki and Ligeti comes through in Blood. In 2005 Greenwood was appointed composer-in-residence for the BBC where he had the opportunity to exhibit a new piece. Popcorn Superhet Receiver, an eighteen minute piece for thirty-four strings, is a masterpiece. This is his best work. The sounds produced by the strings appear alien, even electronic and you marvel at how such a sound can be generated from this archaic family of instruments. The real brilliance of Popcorn is in the imagination of the string writing, inspired by Penderecki’s Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima, as Greenwood recollects, ‘I saw him conduct his Viola Concerto and just couldn't believe it was only strings on stage. Where was that noise coming from? Where were the speakers?’. If the blending glissandos portray the soft syrupy texture of oil, then the ostinatic drumming suggests the frenzied and self-indulged efforts to obtain it – an image still familiar in today’s world.
The music of Jonny Greenwood could be considered challenging, with his compositions containing a myriad of intricacies, and his records with Radiohead are no doubt works of perfectionism, but as a listening experience, there is a lot of gratifying depth. The same belief can be expressed about There Will Be Blood. Anderson recalls a Greenwood composition, Life in a Glasshouse, as one of his favourite songs: ‘The Dixieland one makes me excited and melancholy and really satisfied every time I hear it. I love that song’. Further on, Popcorn Superhet Receiver was to underpin Anderson’s confidence in Greenwood as composer of Blood, when he heard it performed in 2005 at the Ether Festival in London: ‘I just loved the sounds of it, and I just couldn't put my finger on what I liked about it’. Excerpts from Popcorn can be heard in the film, for instance, in the opening focus on the barren, desolate hills. This sequence is illuminated in Greenwood’s score by a wash of dissonant strings playing towards one single F# note, which suggests something unhealthy about this uncultivated land. The first 20 minutes of this film will stay with you for the rest of your life, and the most part is owed to the music. The busy clouds of strings seem to epitomize the competitive thirst for oil, in an age where business began flourishing, forming, and taking on global proportions.
Further excerpts of Popcorn reappear throughout the duration of the movie where there is tension (Henry Plainview , Proven Lands, There Will Be Blood), and Greenwood defiantly exploits the passages of dissonances and jagged rhythms to their fullest potential, although meticulously where needed. With the music and visuals paired together, these scenes expound to terrifying, disconcerting and sometimes intimate effect. The abrasive drumming in Convergence, a gritty composition from Greenwood’s first soundtrack, Bodysong, marks the cataclysmic incident of the derrick fire. The repetitive migraine-inducing rhythms may feel like it’s bashing you over the head for the duration, but it’s an effective piece of music that puts you in the frenetic frame of mind of Plainview.
This excellent recording is a selection of pieces from the film all composed by Jonny Greenwood, and arranged in a different order to the film. The film begins with Popcorn, however, the recording begins with Open Spaces, comprising of short call-and-response motifs played by the strings and ondes Martenot, which momentarily develop into a slow flux of chromatic notes that whither and decline. It is a minimal composition that captures the mood of the film – unrest, change, the start of something to come – on the contrary, this could be a symbol for the film’s weakness to control any meanings or explanations. Greenwood demonstrates this by a progression of tonic-to-dominant, an unfinished cadence and a shift that symbolises instigation, or uncertainty. One interesting thing about this title is that it could allude to the freedom Greenwood has to paint his canvas:
‘I was happier writing lots of music for the film/story, and having PTA [Paul Thomas Anderson] fit some of it to the film /I was a bit like a kid in a candy store, in that I was just given free reign to write a lot of music with the film or certain scenes vaguely in mind’ .
His score is predominantly free from clichés and associations, and this may stem from the same “liberal” image that Radiohead notably possess (musically and politically). There Will Be Blood is a big step up for Greenwood. Bodysong was his first film score but it wasn’t so much devoted to synchronising the music with the visuals, like the common practice of film scoring is all about. However, he states he wanted to avoid advocating ‘specific themes for characters’.
To capture the complexities of struggle and success that lasts over two hours, Greenwood attempts to inhibit the same imaginative attributes as Popcorn, in Eat Him by His Own Light and There Will Be Blood. The wistful melancholy of Prospector’s Arrive is utterly beautiful and neatly assists with the passing of time. Greenwood develops this with Prospector’s Quartet by replacing piano for strings and the effect is what one can describe as pure sinister bleakness. The former sounds like a galactic funeral procession and hearing the ondes Martenot evokes images of deep space. Concentrating more on what’s happening on screen, it evokes the bitter, complex emotions, but also the vast landscape of desolate South California of the early 20th century. However, for a period film, the music itself sounds very futuristic, evoking the soundtrack of Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. Chris Willman accurately describes this connection:
‘A lot of it is one character out in the desert, with long silences suddenly giving way to screeching strings. It reminded me of 2001: A Space Odyssey, where Stanley Kubrick had the silence of space and then suddenly ''The Blue Danube'' or one of the more dissonant pieces he used’.
There are two moments in the film, which could be regarded as “breathers”. Anderson has included Brahms’ third movement of the Violin Concerto in D Major, though this hasn’t been included in the recording. I was surprised not to see the inclusion of Arvo Pärt’s haunting Fratres for Cello and Piano, as this is a significant period of underscoring to the film and fits well with the disparaging mood. The majestic splendour of the former is employed as more of a clichéd device, particularly when the derrick is activated. When Daniel Plainview proclaims, “I have a competition in me...I want no one else to succeed”, the audience comprehends Plainview’s ‘external rise and internal collapse’. This sensation could not be expressed more aptly than in Prospector’s Quartet, drawing attention the forward momentum of the upper violins which drives the emotion to a rich climax, and this example of film scoring just demonstrates how Greenwood truly understands the poetic nature of Blood.
Music is for the ears, and for this reason, I would like to see a live performance of the music to see the colours and textures visualised by the orchestra in the environment of a concert hall, while watching the film, or even a performance of the score alone. It is rare that you can listen to a soundtrack, without the film accompanying it. In this case, the music is at times more direct than the film itself, and it is hard to think of a film that pulls this off with such imaginative technical flair. In the context of film soundtracks, these techniques are perhaps not exploited enough in film music. Or are they best left to the concert hall? Either way, Greenwood is an inspiration to future generations of composers. It is difficult not to be aware of the music, even watching for the first time, as there has been plenty of spotlight on the composer Jonny Greenwood. I would like to see him writing in an even more avant-garde style like Popcorn, and not be a slave to the screen and his uninspired contemporaries. With the freedom and capability, he is surely one to take music forward to new creative and innovative levels, be it with the band or with his burgeoning solo career.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Davis, R. (1999, pp.15-16) Complete Guide to Film Scoring. 1st Edn. Boston: Berklee Press
Nunn, T. (2002, p.16) ‘Radiohead: Everything in its Right Place’ Q Special Edition
Websites:
Nonesuch (2007) Nonesuch Journal Exclusive: An Interview with Jonny Greenwood – Available at: http://journal.nonesuch.com/journal/2007/12/three-weeks-bef.html (Accessed: 07 November 2008)
Willman, C. (2007, pp.1-4) There Will Be Music Entertainment Weekly – Available at: http://www.ew.com/ew/article/0,,20155516_20155530_20158721,00.html (Accessed: 07 November 2008)
Ross, A. (2008) Welling Up The New Yorker – Available at: http://www.therestisnoise.com/2008/01/jonny-greenwood.html (Accessed: 07 November 2008)
Martin, P. (2008) Cinematical – Available at: http://www.cinematical.com/2008/01/22/eight-is-not-enough-jonny-greenwoods-blood-score-dqed/ (Accessed: 07 November 2008)
DISCOGRAPHY
Greenwood, J. (2007) There Will Be Blood. BBC Concert Orchestra, Conducted by Robert Ziegler [CD] Nonesuch Records
AN ANNOTATED BIBLIOGRAPHY ON
JOHN LENNON’S HARMONIC LANGUAGE
The following entries are commentaries on several sources referring to the harmonic language of John Lennon. These include two chapters from a book publication, a transcription of a recording, another chapter from a book publication, a journal essay and a CD recording. Where there is a source that looks at the Lennon/McCartney partnership, or the band as a whole in regards to harmonic language, I have sought to focus on John Lennon only, and the compositions that he instigated. Subsequent to the commentaries is a further list of sources that relate to the topic under investigation.
Thomson, E. & The Lennon Companion: Twenty-Five Years of Comment. 1st edn.
Gutman, D. (ed.) (1987) (London: Macmillan Press)
This exhaustive publication contains a collection of raw materials such as articles and reprints of criticism on John Lennon’s life and work, assembled by two editors. They state in the introduction their aim is to ‘present the best of 25 years of comment and commentary engendered by a man and his music’, though allowing the reader to ‘make an individual assessment’. My initial reaction to this companion is of surprise, in regards to the amount of intense commentary and critical study has been spent on Lennon, musically and non-musically. The publication is interesting in terms of understanding the views of John Lennon when he was alive and at the peak of popularity. With reference to Lennon’s harmonic language, I would like to concentrate a closer inspection of two articles published at the time of the book: Joshua Rifkin’s ‘On The Music of The Beatles’ (pp. 113-126) and Eric Tamm’s ‘Beyond Strawberry Fields: Lennon’s later style (pp. 211-217).
In Rifkin’s article, he reveals his attempt to ‘justify The Beatles in terms of a particular ideology’ by directing his analytical study towards an advanced level of pop music academia rather than a ‘response to the pop scene’. He firstly considers the maturity in their ability to absorb such a wide range of musical influences and techniques, such as the accuracy and control over their compositions and their improvisational (musical) approach to writing pop songs, while never losing their distinctive profile. With Lennon’s ‘Please Please Me’ highlighted as the first example, the author discusses the organisation within its construction, with emphasis on the ‘third apart’ harmonies; the most characteristic element of harmonic language that gives Lennon and The Beatles their signature sound.
Rifkin establishes the significance in the melody-harmony relationship in this song, which achieves ‘a special consistency through a recurrent emphasis on the subdominant’, paying close attention to the ‘spare harmonic palette’. This harmonic simplicity perhaps alludes to the DIY style of punk music that was to emerge over a decade later, in that Lennon’s means of composing involved using guitar, so there is a great deal of focus on chord progressions and harmonic progressions. The article expounds on Lennon’s methods of harmonic development with the ‘constant interchange of modes which leads to a strong tonicisation of more than one key, creating virtual dual tonal centres of a kind often found in 17th Century music’. His argument here is fascinating to read, although there is no evidence to support this statement, and enthusiasts of the band may not find it relevant. Finally, it is an article that consistently relates to The Beatles as one collective in the compositional process, when there are clearly individuals in the band that wrote most of the music by themselves, with assistance from each other.
The article by Tamm is undoubtedly in favour of John Lennon’s success as a songwriter and is very accessible to most levels of reader. The author focuses on Lennon’s individual musicianship, disconnecting his involvement in the band, and begins by stressing the ‘sheer sound [of his music] that grabs the listener and makes the decisive musical statement’. The argument is straightforward and states that Lennon progressed towards concentrating not so much on the compositional techniques, but the ‘sound and spirit’ of the music.
Drawing attention to the section ‘Melody, harmony, rhythm and form’, it is clear the author is an enthusiast of Lennon, with the bias statement, ‘Lennon knew how to write a rock melody’, although this is not analysed or supported by a reference to any primary material (e.g. a score). There is, however, some fluency in the initial argument backed up by some basic general knowledge and the author’s opinions. In relation to Lennon’s harmonic language, Tamm highlights Lennon’s tendency of writing phrases round ‘very few notes (frequently from the pentatonic scale)’, which forms a ‘tension-release principle’. The mapping of Lennon’s compositional writing by a establishing a cut-off point (‘post-Strawberry Fields’) from where he began to employ more repetitive and simplistic harmonic language, is useful to identify a timeline of his progress in songwriting. There is the assertion that the songs with ostinatic figures Lennon employs in later compositions such as “Well Well Well” and “Gimme Some Truth” which underpin the harmony, are the most successful. The latter’s character is described as ‘mesmerizing’ as guitar ostinatos clash with the changing chord progression creating harmonic ambiguity. Again, the author stresses Lennon’s ‘simple’ use of a piano motif in “Remember” to enhance the song’s character and demonstrating Lennon’s skill at songwriting. Although fairly easy to appreciate, this article would probably be most useful as a supplemental reference to something more theory-orientated.
Jones, D. (2000) ‘All You Need Is Love’ The Beatles: 1. New Music Arrangements (Suffolk: Wise Publications), pp.66-69.
This is a phonetic transcription by Derek Jones, classified as a “new music arrangement”. The song as it is heard on the recording Magical Mystery Tour is the source for this score. His interpretation is a reduction from the heavily-texture recording, discarding the drum part, the strings, the brass, the woodwind, the accordion, the vocal harmonies, the banjo, harpsichord, and the half-improvised shrieks from the band members. What remains is a basic transcription for piano, with a primitive chord arrangement for guitar, and the lyrics to the song. The purpose of this score is presumably to create a simplified version of the song comprehensible for a performer, either at a learner’s level, or perhaps at an advanced level.
The arrangement is so very close to the recording, in that some parts take the same note, for instance, the harpsichord and double bass both adopt the one-bar crescendo in the bass clef leading up to verse one. Care is taken over the rhythmic aspects, though not over the harmonic fluency, which is facilitated by the strings, and thus, a performance of this score would seem even more plodding than the recording already is. There appears to lack the preciseness in Lennon’s melodic delivery in the second verse. In addition, the guitar solo after the first chorus is not included, though rightly so, considering the difficulty in transcribing this to piano. The semiquaver phrasing in the strings leading up to the second verse are also removed, as are the grace notes that accompany the descending chromatic thirds in the chorus. These examples of harmonic reduction could be improvised in the guitar performance to establish a much needed harmonic balance, or a sense of individuality.
On the contrary, Jones’ transcription exposes an unexpected rawness, not apparent in the recording. This may be due to the song’s poor sound quality, with Ian Macdonald stating The Beatles’ recordings in this period were ‘concealed in a slapdash atmosphere...disguising the sloppiness on show’ (Macdonald, 1998, pp.229), leaving little attention to musical values and production.
Bibliography
MacDonald, I. (1998) Revolution in the Head: The Beatles’ Records and the Sixties. (London: Pimlico), pp. 229-230.
Discography
Lennon, J. (1967) ‘All You Need Is Love’ (track 11), Magical Mystery Tour [CD] (London: EMI)
Moore, A. F. (1997) ‘Commentary’ The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. 1st edn. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press), pp. 26-57.
The section of this book analyses very thoroughly, track-by-track, the music of the Beatles album on which this publication is founded upon. Moore also offers an ‘objective account’ of each song, while criticizing the many rock critic accounts that focus too much on the writer and not on the song itself. He establishes this by associating each song with its own section. References to score material are shown in ‘Schenkerian’ format, which serve to demonstrate a closer inspection of Lennon’s harmonic language. Moore is specific with small details of each song such as time duration and tempo. In the discussion of “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds”, the harmony is carefully dissected with a chord progression summary and a Schenkerian graph, which are supported by associations to LSD, a theme familiar with the song’s lyrical elements. Moore attempts settle the argument that whether ‘tone overtakes meaning’ in the song by indicating the texture and production is responsible for its false connections.
As stated in the introduction, ‘the song itself’ is integral to this analysis, and the author refers to several tracks released on another album (The Beatles Anthology Collection), not on the 1967 recording, such as “Lucy” and “Being for the benefit of Mr. Kite”. This second Lennon composition is stated as one of his ‘mid-period Beatle songs crucial to Britain’s incipient psychedelia’. The article is convincing in the way of establishing Lennon’s efforts to develop his sound, after it is well-known that The Beatles wanted Sgt Pepper to be the answer to the Beach Boys’ Pet Sounds – a tour de force in its harmonic associations.
Everett, W. (1986) ‘Fantastic Remembrance in John Lennon's "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "Julia"’, The Musical Quarterly, Vol. 72, No.3, pp. 360-393. (Oxford: Oxford University Press). Jstor [Online] – Available At: http://www.jstor.org/stable/948147 (Accessed: 07 November 2008)
This fascinating journal entry focuses on the function of memory and fantasy in the songs of Paul McCartney and John Lennon, and how significantly these elements influence the compositional process. By looking at two Lennon compositions, “Strawberry Fields Forever” and “Julia”, we are given two convincing examples to support the author’s argument. A recurring theme which is established in these two songs and other selected Lennon songs (“If I Fell”, “Yes It Is”, “I’m Only Sleeping”), is the ‘slithering polyphonic lines’ that portray ‘altered states of awareness’.
Brief attention is paid to memory as a compositional strategy in the Lennon/McCartney relationship, in which each composer has written a song based on the memories of their partnership (“Glass Onion”, which ‘warps the tune of “Strawberry Fields”’, and “Two Of Us”), although Everett does not go into detail on this, and one senses there could be a great deal written on their conscious, or unconscious compositional decisions that allude to each other’s style or technique. Everett states that ‘these examples have demonstrated their ways of dealing with either memories (escaping to them, wishing to avoid them)‘. Lennon is notoriously familiar for this second statement, with regards to his spiteful attack on McCartney in “How Do You Sleep?”, and further discussion could have been included on the aggressive harmonic quality in this song, in relation to “Glass Onion”.
The reference to Lennon’s commentary on “Strawberry Fields” serves well to demonstrate his profound and insightful self-analysis of memory, which comes across in his music, as Everett attempts to show in the Schenkerian transcription the unusual harmonic progression. In “Julia”, this Lennon composition is one of his simplest and is driven by a tonic harmony, despite the shifting colourful surface harmonies. The conclusion is that of all these “wrong” qualities in harmonic colouring, combining them with positive or negative attitudes (through harmonic ambiguity or lyrical wisdom) creates the fulfilment of artistic communication.
Lennon, J. (1986) Live in New York City [CD] (New York: EMI)
This is a timeless recording of John Lennon’s last full-length concert, joined by members of the ‘Plastic Ono Elephants Memory Band’ in Madison Square Garden. It is the second recording in a series of live albums arranged by his widow, Yoko Ono, six years after his death, and was organised to support a charity for mentally-handicapped children. Lennon’s performance is at times clumsy and unprepared, while he declares to the audience “welcome to the rehearsal”, but this sense of authenticity transpires, particularly in “Mother”, where his vocals reaches to the point of toneless screaming. The quality is not great, with several parts of the band drowned out by the poorly balanced levels, and at the end of “Instant Karma”, Lennon comically apologises for their flat finish, with “we’ll get it right next time”.
Despite this, the success of this recording is owed significantly to the fact that Lennon rarely performed live in his later years, and to experience the concert first-hand would have been a precious occasion. Lennon’s affirmation for rock and roll continues with “Hound Dog”, which he screams out with passion. This cover owes some significance to the influence on his musical direction. As a model for first-hand experiences, George Martin recalls John Lennon’s admiration for Elvis Presley, which he regards as ‘Modified blues music of Chuck Berry (Martin, 1995, p. 44). Lennon’s harmonic language in this recording in comparison with his earlier work with the Beatles is more bluesy in nature, and this relates to the ‘sound and spirit’ (Thomson, E. & Gutman, D. 1987, p.212), which Lennon embraced later on in his life.
Bibliography
Martin, G. (1995) Summer of Love: The Making of Sgt. Pepper. 1st edn. (London: Pan Books)
Thomson, E. & The Lennon Companion: Twenty-Five Years of Comment. 1st edn.
Gutman, D. (ed.) (1987) (London: Macmillan Press)
FURTHER BIBLIOGRAPHY
Thompson, G. (2001) Let me take you down...to the subdominant. Tools of establishment and revealing the establishment. Yrjö Heinonen, Markus Heuger, Sheila Whiteley, Terhi Nurmesjärvi and Jouni Koskimäki (eds.), Beatlestudies 3. Proceedings of the Beatles 2000 conference. Jyväskylä: University of Jyväskylä (Department of Music, Research Reports 23), pp. 283-291.
Martin, G. (1995) Summer of Love: The Making of Sgt. Pepper. 1st edn. (London: Pan Books)
Moore, A. (1992) ‘Patterns of Harmony’, Popular Music, Vol. 11, No. 1, pp. 73-106. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). Jstor [Online] – Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/853228 (Accessed: 07 November 2008)
Wagner, N. (2003) ‘"Domestication" of Blue Notes in the Beatles' Songs’, Music Theory Spectrum, Vol. 25, No. 2 (Autumn, 2003), pp. 353-365. (California: University of California Press). Jstor [Online] – Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3595435 (Accessed: 07 November 2008)
Reck, D.R. (1985) ‘Beatles Orientalis: Influences from Asia in a Popular Song Tradition’, Asian Music, Vol. 16, No. 1 (1985), pp. 83-149. (Texas: University of Texas Press). Jstor [Online] – Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/834014 (Accessed: 07 November 2008)
Riley, T. (1987) ‘For the Beatles: Notes on Their Achievement’, Popular Music, Vol. 6, No. 3, Beatles Issue (Oct., 1987), pp. 257-271. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press). Jstor [Online] – Available at: http://www.jstor.org/stable/853187 (Accessed: 07 November 2008)
MacDonald, I. (1998) Revolution in the Head: The Beatles’ Records and the Sixties. (London: Pimlico)
