I was intrigued by an advert in the current edition of WORD for the soundtrack to Andrew Smith’s book - Moondust.

The idea that a book requires a soundtrack is a baffling one. In films or TV, any musical accompaniment is supposed to compliment whatever is happening on the screen. When it comes to the written word, people absorb it at their own pace. Any background music is just an additional form of media competing for their attention.

Many years ago I acquired a copy of Richard Farina’s beat novel Been Down So Long It Looks Like Up to Me. Having learned from the introduction that Mose Allison’s Back Country Suite was an influence on the book, I purchased the album with the intention of having it on in the background as I read. My conclusion: Been Down So Long... is an excellent novel written by a talented author who was sadly cut down in his prime. Back Country Suite is a great, if rather short, album. Attempting to enjoy both at the same time is too much for my limited concentration span.

There is an increasingly prevalent belief that daily activities are meaningless without musical accompaniment. I know someone who stopped walking to work after their iPod broke, because apparently walking without music is “boring”. I lay the blame for this attitude at the feet of the teenagers from the Channel Four show Skins, who can’t eat their breakfast without some snippet of contemporary indie that perfectly compliments their emotional state, playing in the background. This is so unlike the incongruous mismatches that occur in real life, where John Bonham’s drum avalanches from Achilles Last Stand are watered down to a tinny rattle in your headphones, while you stand in line at the supermarket waiting to pay for shampoo and margarine.

Going on the strength of unanimously positive reviews, Moondust is a very good read. I doubt that anyone who has finished the book has been taken by the urge to re-read it while listening a CD composed of songs whose titles make oblique references to the moon and outer space. Also present is the ubiquitous Hallelujah (here in its Jeff Buckley incarnation) and, for some reason, Candyman by The Grateful Dead (Did Neil Armstrong hum it on the descent back to earth?)

Soundtracks for books probably make good sense from a stoner’s perspective, offering the kind of unintended synergy that causes Pink Floyd’s - Dark Side of the Moon to synchronize meaningfully with the first 40 minutes of The Wizard of Oz.

To test the plausibility of this theory, I read the opening chapter of Jane Austin’s difficult third novel Mansfield Park while listening to Oasis’ difficult third album - Be Here Now (a.k.a: Sergeant Pepper - the gout years). I have to admit the hairs went up on the back of my neck when, as I read of Miss Frances foolish marriage to a man “without education, fortune, or connections,” Liam Gallagher sang: “Don’t look back, ‘cause you know what you might see.”

In this instance the incisive prose of Jane Austin is salt to the stodgy lyricism of Noel Gallagher, bringing forth a hitherto unforeseen capacity for nuance and elevating Oasis to the unlikely role of Greek chorus. For the first and possibly only time in my life I can say: “Yes Noel, I do know what you mean, in this context”.

Maybe all Oasis albums would be improved by listening to them while reading Jane Austin novels. Generally though, soundtracks to works of literature are a bad idea. The only accompaniment a good book requires is a glass of port, or a mug of hot chocolate if it’s a week night.

(The above was typed while listening Frequently Asked Questions by Tram)