Rose-tinted nostalgia, for one, and a tone that, while it tries hard, can’t really compete with the classic rock and roll tomes of modern times.

The preconceptions I brought to this book, by the popular broadcaster Gerry Anderson, are probably typical for anyone under the age of 45.

Showbands are something that happened more than three decades ago, and seem a million miles away from today’s cultural landscape.

But this book opens with Gerry trying to buy a load of prescription drugs from a chemist somewhere in the middle of Ireland.

And it continues in a similar vein as it goes underneath the skin of a time that is dirtier, seedier and more morally suspect than I had realised.

My preconceptions were gone halfway through the opening page, which, not-coincidentally, is when the first swearword is used.

Heads includes evocative accounts of hours spent in uncomfortable vans over bumpy roads, hedonism and brushes with malnutrition.

It tells the story of inexplicably popular covers bands, with all sorts of weird gimmicks, who were once the last word in entertainment here.

It’s an eye-opener for anyone who’s unfamiliar with the time.

Those who lived through it will be given plenty to blush about, as it proves the showband generation was more badly behaved than it would otherwise let on.

Gerry Anderson is popular enough to sell books on his name alone, regardless of the content, but this shows a genuine talent for writing, with moments of humour, poignancy and cynicism resonating throughout a hugely entertaining text.

The result is something that could easily sit on the shelf with such modern classics as Motley Crue’s The Dirt or Crazy From The Heat by David Lee Roth.

Heads may focus on the world of showbands but, at its heart, this book is pure rock and roll.

A word of warning though: the situations described and the terms used might upset more sensitive readers – Anderson doesn’t shy away from strong language in what comes across as a hilarious, compelling and, most importantly, honest account of the showband era.

Phil Crossey