MC5 – An Oral Biography of Rock’s Most Revolutionary Band
By Brad Tolinksi, Jann Uhelszki and Ben Edmonds
(Hachette Books)

The MC5 finally made it into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 2024. Or Hall of Lame, as we like to call it around here. As an institution, it really is a clusterfuck of inconsistency and the Five deserved to be there an eon ago.

You might argue that the band’s history, for the most part, was a contradiction of missed, ignored or mis-handled opportunities – and you’d be right. This much-anticipated tome is proof positive – if it were needed – of that.

Decent books about the Five are hard to find. The late Wayne Kramer had a go and succeeded to a degree (although parts smelt of revisionism). Bass player Michael Davis released his own equally harrowing autobiography, posthumously, that filled some gaps. Both books were single viewpoints, however. “MC5 – An Oral Biography…” is a shot at the big picture and fills a vacuum.

The focus of the late Ben Edmonds’ interviews with band members is squarely on the years when the band was in the orbit of mentor John Sinclair and the period leading up. Post “Back In The USA”, the threads (and detail) falls away. “High Time” – easily their best studio effort – is almost a footnote. So are their travels through the UK and Europe.

And Fred “Sonic” Smith, who was probably the band’s most compelling character, is missing in action, for reasons that are never fully explained.

Nor are they likely to be. Edmonds passed away in 2016 and his part-completed book was not a manuscript, but boxes of hand-written notes. Creem magazine colleague and friend Jann Uhelszki fulfilled a promise when she started meticulously pulling the source material together and assembling what would become a 280-page book. Brad Tolinski lent a hand and the pair have woven a coherent narrative that does the band’s legacy justice.

We can reasonably assume that Sonic’s notoriously private nature was behind his non-involvement. Yes, it’s a pity, but there’s no winding back the clock. The authors worked with what they had and have done well.

On the plus side, there’s a lot of Rob Tyner in the book and that’s a wonderful thing. He comes across as a complex character full of contradictions and self-doubt. He was clearly the whipping boy for the rest of the band – the butt of their jokes and a target for venting when they became frustrated (which was a frequent occurrence).

No shock there. The MC5 were 20-somethings full of piss and bad manners who were destined to be factory slaves or hoodlums if music hadn’t arrived. If only they’d realised they were blessed by the presence of a soulful and emotive vocalist, the likes of which does not come along very often.

Brother Wayne comes across as a mouthpiece. If you’ve seen the (tragically blocked) “A True Testimonial” documentary you’ll know how engaging he could be in interviews. He was great media talent. His brash self-confidence is re-framed by then-girlfriend Chris Hovnanian who puts him in the context of the band’s bully boy for whom only Fred Smith was off limits.

Hovnanian was also friends with Mike Davis and opines that he may have been better off remaining an artist than being recruited on bass. More a guitar player than a bottom end anchor, Davis, too, was something of a scapegoat, especially when it came to the studio. His slide into a heroin habit – possibly a symptom of the band’s reaction to blown chances - didn’t do him any favours.

Two things are now obvious (if they weren’t before): Not all the band bought into the revolutionary zeal of mentor-manager John Sinclair, and the MC5’s split with him was the turning point. Throw in hard drugs and it was all downhill from there.

To be fair, as a collective the Five were unable to take care of business and by the time Jon Landau came into the picture, they were sick of supporting a rag tag army of hangers on and grifters. Making the band play in time and stay in tune probably wasn’t a bad idea, but the “product” that came out of their association effectively destroyed their supporter base and gained too few new fans.

As Becky Tyner makes clear: “I think drugs had a lot to do with what went wrong with the MC5, and the lack of management.”

Most stories are best told by the people who made them and this is the power of “MC5”. There are incisive, frank and telling insights from drummer Dennis Thompson (RIP), A&R genius Danny Fields, photographer-cum-den mother Leni Sinclair, visual artist Gary Grimshaw and fallen Stooge Ron Asheton. Their words jump off the page.

This is a book about squandered chances and self-sabotage. Hopefully, it sets their legacy straight in the way that “A True Testimonial” was not permitted to do, and the excerable "Heavy Lifting" album (the MC5 in name only) won't . As former I-94 Bar writer Ken Shimamoto is apt to say (and I’m paraphrasing): “When it comes to the Stooges vs the MC5, the Stooges win.” He's been proven correct time and time again but the MC5's story still deserved to be told like this. 

 (with maybe a fraction of a McGarrett shaved off for not focusing on the band's whole existence)