John Higgs - The KLF: Chaos, Magic and the Band who Burned a Million Pounds

Nigel’s choices

THEME: Hail Eris! All Hail Discordia!

We met on Thursday 12 June 2025 to discuss Nigel’s choices around the theme Hail Eris! All Hail Discordia!

Robin, Nick, and Roland were unable to attend but all sent in reviews.

Nigel explained that he had recently been revisiting classic five star books he’d read before and finding the experience very rewarding. He decided to extend this idea to this HBG choice.

He had been blown away by The KLF: Chaos, Magic and the Band who Burned a Million Pounds (2015) by John Higgs when he first read it and thought it would make a suitable choice and which he hoped would hit the collective HBG sweet spot. 

It’s a pop biography for people who don’t read pop biographies. Higgs makes like Adam Curtis brainstorming all manner of magical thinking and conspiracy theories. Touching on Dada, Doctor Who and Discordianism, it’s as playful and unique as the KLF themselves.

Keen to avoid the obvious theme of The KLF, Nigel hit on the idea of Discordianism which would provide a coherent and humorous unifying theme and the opportunity for some interesting complementary choices.

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READ: John Higgs - The KLF: Chaos, Magic and the Band who Burned a Million Pounds

Nigel fessed up that he is a massive fan of local boy John Higgs, has read all his books, and seen him give many talks. He’s a great hero to Nigel and an essential writer. 

Like all John’s books, The KLF: Chaos, Magic and the Band who Burned a Million Pounds uses its central subject as a jumping off  point into a bigger and much stranger world.

The KLF were the bestselling singles band in the world, garnered with awards, credibility, commercial success and creative freedom - and this despite being enigmatic, highly unorthodox and disruptive, Situationist-inspired, surreal, confusing, and deliberately anti-establishment. 

At the peak of their global success, they famously deleted all their records, erased themselves from musical history, and burnt their last million pounds in a boathouse on the Isle of Jura. And yet they couldn’t explain why.

The way Higgs tells it this is not just the story of The KLF. It is a story that embraces Carl Jung, Alan Moore, Robert Anton Wilson, Ken Campbell, Dada, Situationism, Discordianism, magic, chaos, punk, rave, the alchemical symbolism of Doctor Who, and the special power of the number 23, amongst many other things.

Second time round Nigel still loves this book. Here’s a few examples of made it so interesting and thought provoking:

Characters being in a story they don’t know they’re in

The human tendency to retrospectively and consistently create false narratives

The weird and wonderful history of Discordianism

The self reverential reality tunnels which trap us all to an extent. The menu is not the meal, the map is not the territory etc. Models are not the real world. We are free to use and discard contradictory models as circumstances change

The central question the book asks is were Jimmy Caulty and Bill Drummond attention seeking arseholes? Or did they came across the idea of burning a million quid in “idea space” (Alan Moore) or the “collective unconsciousness” (Carl Jung) and were so moved by it they had no choice but to act? Nigel thought Higgs makes a very convincing case for the latter. 

Hamish thought it was entertaining bollocks which he thoroughly enjoyed. Hamish has a lot of love for Bill Drummond primarily because of his connection to the peerless Liverpool music scene of the early 1980s.

Keith concluded John Higgs weaves a fabulous story and this was an engaging book with lots to follow up on.

Tristan diligently researched The KLF before getting stuck in, reminding himself of the Time Lords and some of The KLF's tunes and videos, including the infamous appearance at The Brits with Extreme Noise Terror. 

Tristan enjoyed the tangents that played with his head and emerged from the experience with a lot more sympathy towards Drummond and Caulty, and their motives for burning their final million quid, deleting all their music, and exiting the music business, souls still intact. He can really get behind fun non-fiction books. More please.

Roland was unimpressed. He felt that, by the end of the book, Higgs had delivered a story based on very little, full of conjecture and flights of fancy and which was ultimately quite boring. 

Robin felt this was a timely read as we arguably live in an age of Discordianism. He felt there was much to enjoy and appreciate, and concluded this is a thoroughly enjoyable book. He also intends to read The Manual in order to have his own number one single. 

Nick described the book as strange and pretentious, a bit like The KLF, however acknowledged that a regular music biography would not have done justice to the seriously weird story of Messrs Cauty and Drummond. Higgs is the Adam Curtis of the literary world, using the story of the KLF as a starting point into all manner of things, and populated by a cast of big thinkers and bonafide weirdos including the geniuses who are Alan Moore and were Ken Campbell. 

Nick now loves The KLF more than before he’d read this book. They threw away a glorious career and kept their dignity whilst burning a million quid. 

A great read

Nick 8.5 / Tristan 7.5 / Nigel 10 / Keith 9 / Roland 3 / Robin 8 / Hamish 7.5

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LISTEN: Pixies - Surfer Rosa (1988)

Roland did not review Surfer Rosa.

Nigel remembered being blown away when John Peel played tunes from this and Come On Pilgrim. Instant love. He bought them both. Pixies really set the template for so much that was to follow in rock. Quiet introspection followed by explosive riffing and noise. Beauty and chaos, and those often surreal and ambiguous lyrics, meld to disconcert and leave the listener questioning and uneasy. 

Nick feels this album still sounds subversive and wonderful. What a band. Often copied, never bettered. As important as Brian Wilson.

Tristan found it loud and chaotic filled with noise and non-sequiturs. He knows of what he speaks. His brother insisted they both watch them at the Reading Festival. 

Robin has to be in the right mood.

Keith thinks this is a good album with its spare arrangements and powerful tunes.

Hamish bought this back in the day but didn’t get into it however 37 years on he thinks it sounds much better and really generates power.

All hail Pixies

Nick - / Tristan 6 / Nigel 8 / Keith - / Robin - / Hamish -

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Watch: Fight Club (1999)

Like huge numbers of people, Nigel loved Fight Club when it came out but had not seen it since watching it in the cinema in 1999. 

After rewatching it, Nigel was delighted with how well it fits with the Discordian theme and wondered if the film's other themes had become even more relevant. For example, the film’s central critique about the emptiness of materialism and the pursuit of consumer goods, the narrator's disillusionment with his IKEA-filled life, Tyler Durden's anti-establishment rhetoric and how - in the modern world of Andrew Tate, toxic masculinity and incels - the film's portrayal of men seeking connection and purpose outside traditional norms. Not to mention mental health, isolation, and the dangers of extremism.

It’s also a visceral, wild ride of a viewing experience: the insomniac insurance drone haunting self-help groups for fatal illnesses until he encounters Tyler Durden the charismatic anarchist who invites him to move into his decrepit house leading to recreational fist-fights, and ultimately an underground masculinist movement.

Nick had completely forgotten the whole plot of the movie and so really enjoyed the twist again. He loved it all over again.

Robin loves Ed Norton and enjoyed the film

Keith called this great entertainment. Whilst not subtle this adrenaline filled film still stands up

Roland was generally underwhelmed and felt it was a bit superficial despite the wonderful fight choreography and scenes of urban terrorism. The malaise felt thin and Roland wondered what motivated the characters. More of a vehicle for Brad Pitt than anything more substantial.

Hamish felt the film's ideas are still relevant and overall it's good despite also being a little unsubtle and occasionally clunky.

Tristan did not have a chance to rewatch so was relying on his memories from 1999. He has fond memories and intends to rewatch it given the group’s positivity.

Nick - / Tristan - / Nigel 9 / Keith 7 / Roland 4 / Robin 7 / Hamish -

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ENDORSE IT 

HBG endorse it: 8 May 2025 - 12 June 2025

Some music…

Spoiler - Baloji

The Fatback Band - (Are you Ready) Do the Bus Stop

The Pill - Mullet

Amadou and Mariam (RIP Amadou)

Pulp - More (2025)

MUBI - the film streaming channel

The Ballad of Wallis Island (Film)

Empire (History Podcast) - episodes about Ireland

Geoff Robb (Robin’s guitarist pal) - see website for gigs

Don’t Die: The Man Who Wants To Live Forever (Netflix)

Martin Parr and JJ Waller Exhibition at Hove Museum - Free entry. Ends 14 Sept 25 (Photography)

The Rehearsal (Sky Comedy)

The Netanyahus by Joshua Cohen

 Keith’s choices

Theme: Paternal Influence 

We met on Thursday 8 May 2025 to discuss Keith’s choices around the theme Paternal Influence - and what an excellent theme that turned out to be. 

Robin was unable to attend but messaged a few lines about the book and the film. Keith and Nick were unable to attend but sent in reviews instead. 

Here’s what went down, and with a little AI assistance

READ: The Netanyahus by Joshua Cohen

In the style of Raymond Chandler….

The afterword, laid it out straight. This whole yarn, see, it wasn't just smoke and mirrors. Turns out, Netanyahu, the old man, he was the real McCoy, father of that kid, Benjamin. Him and his family, the 'Yahus' they called 'em, descended on Professor Blum's joint like a pack of hungry wolves. The whole setup, it was ripped from the headlines of a real visit the family paid to this Bloom fella, a tweed jacket type who taught English.

Keith, he’s a sharp cookie, called it a "fascinating fact-fiction feast." But he wasn't kidding nobody, this book wasn't a walk in the park. It came at you hard, no punches pulled. Maybe it got a little too big for its britches in spots, a bit too clever for its own good. But when you boiled it down, it was lean, sharp, and had a wit that could cut glass. Keith, he got a kick out of Judy's nose job – a calculated demolition, that one – right up to the Blums staggering home to find the Netanyahu hellions had turned the place upside down, capped off with a dame screaming bloody murder over the phone. The old man's lectures, they were heavy going, like wading through cement, but you gotta figure they left a mark on young Benjamin. The good parts, they were real good. The bad? They stunk. Sometimes, the whole thing just went over your head, and that was its biggest crime. It wasn't your average pulp, that's for sure. Ambitious, you could say that much.

Nick, he cracked a smile here and there, but mostly the thing got under his skin. Frustrating, he called it, pretentious. Too damn short for what it was trying to pull off. Made him feel like he was playing catch-up in a rigged game. Two whole chapters of letters from pointy-heads? Seemed like a stiff drink with no payoff. Though, he did admit, it hammered home how a good story, like that Zionist myth, could take on a life of its own, become realer than a sock to the jaw.

Nigel, he kept thinking of that Portnoy character we came across some years back. Some bits, he ate 'em up, especially the front end, when Blum's in-laws and then his own folks dropped by, one after the other, like bad news always does. And Judy, yeah, her memorable shortcut to a new schnoz, that was a killer. But then, about halfway, maybe two-thirds through, the charm wore off. It all dissolved into a mishmash of college-boy talk and guys falling over banana peels.

Roland, though, he lapped it up like a stray cat with a saucer of cream. The way it painted the Jews, stuck out in the sticks, away from the bright lights. The backstabbing in the halls of ivy, the laugh-out-loud moments that hit you like a sucker punch, the family squabbles, and then those Netanyahus. A real page-turner, he said. Flew through it.

Tristan, he did his homework, listened to some podcast before he even cracked the spine. Said old man Netanyahu was dead set on a Jewish state, no two ways about it. Amazing, he figured, how one little story could get blown up into a whole novel. Bizarre, but he had to hand it to them.

Hamish, he had a rough time with it. A difficult customer, this book, frustrating. The way it mixed the real with the make-believe, it didn't sit right with him. How much of it was gospel, how much was just hot air? That was the million-dollar question for Hamish. It nailed the vibe of those early sixties college campuses, he gave it that. But a lot of it felt phony, and some of the lines just didn't connect. Left a sour taste in his mouth, the whole damn thing.

Robin, yeah, he got a kick out of the history lesson, the dusty old facts of the matter. But when it came down to what the whole damn thing was for, he was adrift in a fog. Figured maybe the guy writing it was just a little too fond of the sound of his own voice, if you catch my drift. A bit of a private party, and Robin wasn't sure he was on the guest list.

Nick 7 / Tristan 8.5 / Nigel 7 / Keith 8 / Roland 10 / Robin - / Hamish 4

LISTEN: White Men Are Black Men Too by Young Fathers

In the style of PG Wodehouse….

Right ho, let's get the scorecard straight on this musical concoction, what!

Young Robin, it seems, decided to sit this particular dance out. Not a peep, not a sausage. Gave it the old silent treatment, did Robin.

Now, Nigel, bless his cotton socks, was absolutely over the moon, chaps! Dashed off a string of adjectives that would make a thesaurus blush. Called it "gloriously engaging," like a well-told yarn by the fireside. And then, hold on to your hats, he described it as "lo-fi, ramshackle, propulsive, and shapeshifting." Bit of a mouthful, that, but the general idea is that Nigel was tickled pink. He detected hints of that Tom Waits fellow – sounds like a chap who’s gargled with gravel, if memory serves – and something called the BBC Radiophonic Workshop, which sounds frightfully official. Then there was Public Image Limited, apparently from their "Flowers of Romance" phase (sounds a bit like a gardening club gone rogue, what?), The Fall (hopefully not a literal one, that would be beastly), and a cove by the name of Screaming Jay Hawkins, who I imagine doesn't do lullabies. Toss in a few snatches of soul and gospel for good measure, and Nigel declared it "Great stuff!" The tunes "Rain or Shine" and "Shame" were apparently the cat's pyjamas, the absolute bee's knees for young Nige.

Then there's Hamish. Old Hamish, a fellow of discerning taste, by Jove, positively adored the way they’d thrown all sorts of musical bits and bobs into the pot. A "musical mash-up," he called it, with the enthusiasm of a chef who’s just invented a new, rather daring, soufflé. And, get this, he reckoned they actually had something to say! Well, I never.

Keith, old bean, was another one caught in this album's irresistible charm. He "dug the musicality," which, he hastened to add, came with a "good dose of edginess." A bit like a perfectly brewed cuppa with an unexpected dash of chilli powder, I suppose. "What’s not to like?" he chirped, and for a chap named Keith, the answer was, apparently, "absolutely nothing." The title of the album itself, he felt, was a "suitably provocative title set against the other choices" – a bit of a verbal jab, a playful prod in the ribs, what?

Tristan, now, he appreciated the "driving nature of the music." Liked a bit of pep, did Tristan. Said it sounded "spontaneous and immediate," like a particularly energetic game of squash. But then, a small cloud appeared on the horizon of his enjoyment. "Perhaps a bit samey?" he ventured, a trifle hesitantly. One hopes not too samey, like wearing the same tie to the club three days running.

Nick, good old Nick, announced his love for this album, though with a caveat that would make a lawyer proud. Believed it wasn't their best, you see. A bit like saying your favourite aunt is splendid, but not quite as splendid as the other one who makes those divine scones. He was particularly chuffed when they "ditch the TV on the Radio shtick," whatever that particular piece of stage business might be. "Get Started," one of the ditties, was hailed as "great. Great!" Can't say fairer than that, can you?

Finally, Roland. Poor old Roland. He went in with his hopes sky-high, tail wagging, ready to be utterly bowled over. But alas, 'twas not to be. He rather liked the "musical mash-up," the general idea of it all. But, dash it all, none of the songs actually, as he put it, "grabbed him." Left him a bit cold, like a forgotten cup of tea on a winter's day. Disappointed, that was Roland. Ah well, can't win 'em all, can one?

Nick 7.5 / Tristan 6 / Nigel 8 / Keith - / Roland - / Robin - / Hamish 9

WATCH: The Apprentice dir by Ali Abbasi

In the style of Enid Blyton:

The gang had gathered in the old drawing room, mugs of hot cocoa in hand and the fire crackling merrily in the grate. Keith leaned forward in his chair, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.

“I must say,” he began, “I was ever so relieved that it wasn’t some silly film full of cheap digs and rudeness. No, it was more like a slow, steady twist of the knife — quite chilling, really! The transformation of the main character was handled with such care and subtlety. You could almost feel the making of something monstrous. The most dreadful thing, of course, was the story of Roy Cohn. I hadn’t heard of him before — fancy that! And to think he was once the chief counsel to that horrid fellow, Joseph McCarthy. That rather says it all, doesn’t it? The film showed his vile influence so well. Makes you wonder — how much of Mr Trump was shaped by his father and this Cohn character?”

Nigel nodded seriously. “The Apprentice is a jolly clever film,” he said. “It paints a very compelling picture of Trump’s early days in the bustling, grimy world of New York real estate. It was the late seventies, and the city was just beginning to pick itself up again. His meeting with Roy Cohn seemed to change everything. The actor playing Trump — Sebastian Stan, I believe — was simply top notch. Not overdone in the slightest. You could see exactly how the world around him — and the people — started shaping who he became. Much more thoughtful than I expected, with plenty of hints about what was to come!”

“I saw it at the cinema,” said Nick quietly, “and I thought it was wonderful. Pity it didn’t get the attention it deserved over in America.”

Roland gave a thoughtful hum. “I liked it very much,” he said. “Perhaps they tried to cram in a bit too much? But at its heart, it was really about the influence of Roy Cohn. And that rang true to me.”

“Well,” said Tristan, frowning a little, “it was rather a hatchet job in parts. There were things left unsaid, and I’m not sure what was fact and what was just creative guesswork. But even so — it told a solid story. Quite unpleasant in places, but I think it was important. A shame more Americans won’t get to see it.”

Hamish gave a nod. “Yes, I agree with much of that. A clever film, well acted — but I did struggle with the whole idea of making a film about Trump at all. Still, it made me think.”

Then Robin grinned. “I thought it was a cracker! That actor from Succession playing Cohn — marvellous! The whole thing had a bit of that Succession feel to it, especially in how it was shot. And goodness, hasn’t hair replacement come a long way? Still,” he added with a wink, “if you lot take just one thing away from it — show no weakness, and remember: your version of the truth is the only one that matters! Deny everything!”

They all laughed at that, and the fire crackled even louder, as though it, too, was part of the conversation.

Nick - / Tristan 6 / Nigel 9 / Keith - / Roland 7 / Robin - / Hamish 6

ENDORSE IT 

HBG endorse it: 4 April 2025 - 8 May 2025

Stereo Underground (Mixcloud)

Spoilt Creatures (2024) by Amy Twigg (Book)