Bicycle Diaries, David Byrne (2009) Faber and Faber 9780571241026 Octo 300pp £14.99 A collection of reflections on cycling in cities, including Berlin, Istanbul, London and New York that contains interesting points amid a level of slight detail that will frustrate all but die-hard fans

Byrne's starting point is that a bicycle is uniquely suited for exploring urban areas. It is not an original point, but that does not deflect from its essential truth. The author, who, as a musician and artist has been touring the globe since the mid-1970s, has always travelled with a folding bicycle. And on that mount, he has traversed many of the world's urban areas, in search of relaxation, inspiration and revelation.

This book collects his musings on urban design, municipal sensibilities, the nature of art, the need for cycle advocacy and much else beside. Some of the entries are entirely in the style of a diary - recounting a performance-free day on tour when Byrne has dotted about on two wheels, meeting artists, musicians and friends.

Other entries are by way of philosophical trajectories inspired by his wanderings.
It is, of course, heart-warming to learn just how enthusiastic a cyclist Byrne is. Whether you like his music or not, he has led a fascinating career. I can't think of anyone else who has gone from being a left-field, art-school experimenter, to becoming a stadium-filling global rock god, and back again, while remaining apparently sane, grounded and happy.

It is a beautifully packaged book, from the cover illustration, by Byrne, to the tiny bicycle icons that move about the pages as you pass through the book. There are also occaisional biographical asides. Recounting the moment in the 1970s when he gave up on building a dome in northern California in preference to buking. "I realised that at that time I was more interested in irony than utopia", he notes.

In all the entries reproduced here there are moments of interest. I would have read more about the cycle advocacy forum event that Byrne organised, for example. He spent over a year on the event, which took place in October 2007. Nearly nine pages are devoted to the process of contacting performers and speakers, but then Byrne simply notes that 'in the end, the event...was successful, though I think that it ran a little too long.' Given the space he devoted to getting it together, it would have been good to learn a bit more about what happened on the night.

It is a feeling of frustration that stayed with me throughout the book. Many of the entries have the slight quality of notes taken, day-by-day as a reminder of how you spent your days - which in fairness, is what the title promises.

Here he is, for example, making an initial survey of Istanbul.

'As I bike around I note that the old buildings - wooden houses, nineteenth century European-style palaces, and Ottoman-era edifices - are dwindling. Everywhere I see bland concrete apartment buildings going up. I wonder how buildings and neighbourhoods of such obvious character can so easily be eliminated. What is everyone thinking? I sound a bit like Prince Charles in this, but I wonder, how it is that no one can see what is happening?'

All good points. But it is hard to believe that, with a bit more work, and based upon the same material, Byrne could not have delivered something rather meatier.

PS Dec 09

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