MICK MCSHANE is roused by a band whose socialism laces every line of every song with commitment and raw passion
Sour notes in this dystopian disco
Disco Sour
by Giuseppe Porcaro
(Unbound, £10)
WHEN reviewing a novel it helps to have something to work with — engaging characters, a discernible plot, a carefully penned exploration of human experience.
But when a book churns through the presses and not only fails to provide any of the above but seems to positively revel in its shameless lack of content, one inevitably smells a rat.
Giuseppe Porcaro's Disco Sour, ostensibly about a dystopian future in which nation states have collapsed and where the European Union “holds on, preventing anarchy” — a theme which takes up, perhaps, a quarter of a very short book — is mostly an agglomeration of autobiographical passages about the author’s tedious sex life, punctuated with random swathes of text lifted wholesale from Wikipedia.
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