It's now, unthinkably, 50 years since the roaring, cathartic advent of punk. Few people know, however, that a band of bearded longhairs were making a more brutal, polarising noise than any of their punk peers.
Chou Pahrot remain one of Scotland's best-kept secrets. Startling, exhilarating, innately weird, but surprisingly funny and charming, they were either adored or reviled: no one 'quite liked' Chou Pahrot. This book's title, Most Severely, references the band's habitual closing number, which encompassed an improvised, open-ended middle section which often degenerated - or blossomed - into full-blown anarchy.
This is their story, intermingled with the author's reminiscences of life for feckless, sensation-hungry teenagers in Scotland's Central Belt in the 1970s. It's a memoir of misadventure, thwarted ambition, unfortunate timing, and questionable lifestyle choices: but it's also a parable of spectacular catharsis, redemptive laughter, and ragged glory. Amusing and poignant by turns, it's a love letter to a time, a place, and some extremely unusual people.