As a work of art one might open at random to admire the torrent of wordplay and nothing more, it serves a purpose - he does have a beguiling way with language after all. As a way of learning the names of albums and artists you've never heard of before, it also serves a purpose - but then so does The Wire in its own earnestly anal cutting edge way. As an ego trip it will be hard to beat even in the crowded field of music journalism, so it could be said to be setting a standard of a kind there. Lucky us.

The basic premise of the book - taking two seemingly contrasting pieces of music as a starting point of a journey through pop/rock/dance/the avant-garde of any description and so on and so forth - is perfectly fine. The problem arises when it becomes clear that Mr Morley, for all his detailed knowledge of the musical firmament, doesn't know how to edit himself effectively. Nor will he let anyone else do it for him, clearly.
Maybe he considers it to be his trademark; it's not a particularly flattering mix.

A couple of examples to illustrate: why take sixteen pages to argue why Kraftwerk are what they are and how they inspired everything of any musical worth to be released in the last twenty-five years (dubious) when it could so easily be done, to more convincing effect I suspect, in a mere two pages? Or maybe even just one. Why make those inevitably selective (and contradictory) lists which come across like 'I'm strange and a little bit wacky, me - just look at this!' junk emails that get trashed after one cursory glance through. Fluff and nonsense.

It's infuriating that in amongst the unnecessary repetition and yawning pretentiousness there are genuine nuggets of inspiration and humour to be found. The comments on Eno, Moby's Play, the Now... compilation series, Merzbow (ridiculous list assertion aside) and Madonna all spring to mind. The overall historic chronology - the one list that is worth a second look - contains genuinely intriguing details when it takes the trouble to explain entries beyond the obligatory one line.

Nevertheless, the title is a grand deceit. Words? If by that he implies lyrics, then we are being sold short. Far too many names of songs and not much else here folks. Singer/songwriter types will find little of interest because Mr Morley evidently finds little of interest in singer/songwriter types.
Nick Drake/Joni Mitchell/Kate Bush/David Byrne/Morrissey/Michael Stipe/PJ Harvey etc? Mostly irrelevant it seems. Jarvis Cocker gets interview space, but that's all. Only the two initial pieces - Kylie's 'Can't Get You Out Of My Head' and Alvin Lucier's 'I Am Sitting In A Room' - plus The Rolling Stones' '...Satisfaction' receive any thoughtful analysis of their lyrical content. (still, I hesitate to include the latter)

And Music? Tricky that. One can rarely, if ever, come close to the experience of listening to it, dancing to it or trying to ignore it, and that enduring fact remains music journalism's biggest stumbling block. This book fails the test magnificently. Once again we are cast adrift in a sea of names with too many tediously fanciful explanations to mention. Only with Kylie and Alvin is a sense of the musical experience conveyed anywhere near adequately. Meanwhile, the incessant bias against acoustic instruments turn the whole proceedings into something approaching farce. Pianos and strings? Dead apparently, unless you're Arvo Part, in which case he'll make an exception. Bless 'im.

So, use it as a heartfelt reference point for future listening if you like (with an appropriately generous pinch of salt), but don't imagine that a new world will be revealed to you. 'Words And Music' is far bigger than it is clever.