We normally avoid spending precious review time on books from overseas. But we had to make an exception for this intriguing new series from London-based publisher Continuum.

Continuum’s stock-in-trade is humanities non-fiction, including theology, religious studies and spirituality. But they’re rocking out a bit with a new series of small books on classic rock albums – like musical versions of the Essay Series from Wellington’s Four Winds Press.

The Continuum 33 1/3 series has been launched with six initial titles: Neil Young's Harvest by Sam Inglis, Dusty Springfield's Dusty in Memphis by Warren Zanes, Love's Forever Changes by Andrew Hultkrans, The Kinks are the Village Green Preservation Society by Andy Miller, The Smiths' Meat is Murder by Joe Pernice, and Pink Floyd's The Piper at the Gates of Dawn by John Cavanagh.

The first book I opened was Neil Young's Harvest by Sam Inglis, Features Editor of the recording studio magazine Sound on Sound. This is a fascinating book about a fascinating album: Harvest was a huge hit, but scorned by hardcore Young fans and many critics. Young’s life was in turmoil at the time, partly due to the heroin overdose of his guitarist Danny Whitten, the night after Young banished him from a recording session. That incident spawned the song The Needle and The Damage Done, and cast a pall over the album’s gestation.

Inglis’ account is occasionally repetitive (yes, we know that Harvest producer Jack Nitzsche liked a drink) and sometimes reads like an extended magazine article, but these are minor quibbles. The insights into Young’s life, methodology and fans’ and critics’ reactions are compelling. I added Harvest to my Neil Young collection the day after finishing the book.

Bostonian Joe Pernice, of the indie-pop band Pernice Brothers, takes a different approach with The Smiths’ Meat is Murder. This book is the ‘odd one out’ in the series, because it’s a novella. I found this frustrating: Meat is Murder had a huge impact on me as a student in northern England in the 80s, and I was looking forward to an insight into Morrissey and Marr’s methods and madness. Instead, Pernice delivers a slightly over-written tale of teenage angst. It’s occasionally poignant and certainly readable, but told me little new about the band that wrote the majestic How Soon Is Now.

Still, one can’t win ‘em all. The 33 1/3 series is a cracking good idea, and if you like the albums in questions, you’re sure to love the books. Memo to New Zealand publishers: how about a series on classic Kiwi albums?