The reformed Monday's are without Mark Day and Paul Davis from the original line up. Vendettas from the break up are to blame but the 'author' can't resist poxy little slurs and innuendo about them and ends up sounding like a grovelling wanker, desperately trying to gain entry to the Shaun Ryder school of excess.

The reformed Monday's are without Mark Day and Paul Davis from the original line up. Vendettas from the break up are to blame but the 'author' can't resist poxy little slurs and innuendo about them and ends up sounding like a grovelling wanker, desperately trying to gain entry to the Shaun Ryder school of excess.

With credibility soundbites from the likes of Joe Strummer, Jo Whiley, Keith Allen, Damien Hirst and high security prisoner Charles Bronson, the 'author' neatly side steps any significant treatment of the Monday's music. All you get are a load of unnecessarily detailed tales of excess that you've either heard before or could easily imagine yourself.

What's really surprising are the disapproving comments from Warburton when our hero Shaun is holed up in a scummy Burnley bedsit, still getting fucked out of his head on whatever's available. What's that? Shaun Ryder pursuing the intoxicated formula he's stuck to throughout his life, even when he's not rich and in a band? Stunning revelation? We hope he carries on with cash from this book.

Lifebyte's main problem with Hallelujah! is the inclusion of characters from the Sport's editorial office. It reads like an advertorial at times. Ryder's column for the Sport (which is faithfully reproduced here) isn't even that funny, so constant quotes from 'Mr Potato Head' seem to lose something in the move outside the office. Crap.

Rating: ½ out of five

— Dan Crimes 27.07.00