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What a Fool Believes by Michael McDonald review – the nicest dude in soul takes centre stage
From falling foul of Ray Charles to writing with Burt Bacharach and singing with Steely Dan, McDonald has led a fascinating, if addiction-fuelled, life, but his memoir errs on the side of cliche
What began as a love of getting loaded, and a way of not dealing with his anxiety and low self-esteem, slipped by degrees into full-time abuse Not that McDonald lacks for stories or a tough beginning to unpack. Born in 1952 to Irish Catholic stock in a white, working-class suburb of St Louis he inherited his musical chops from a restless war veteran father who once sang at a Democrats’ rally in support of a young JFK. For all the amazing times McDonald experienced, the unvarying pace flattens the mood and the language, albeit polished by a bestselling writer, doesn’t put up much of a fight against cliche.
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