Many of history’s most revered writers led what could readily be described as a decadent lifestyle, with drug use and debaucherous behaviour on par with that of our modern rock stars. It’s no surprise then that there has been much cross-pollination of attitudes and inspiration between the musical and literary realms.

On the surface it would make sense for your more wordy and cerebral bands to delve into the great written works for motivation and influence for not only their name, but also their own lyrics. It stands to reason that bands like Augie March, named after the protagonist of the novel The Adventures of Augie March by Saul Bellows, and Okkervil River, whose moniker is taken from a short story by Leo Tolstoy’s niece – Russian writer Tatyana Tolstaya, would choose names that are almost a smugly-knowing endorsement of quality, reflecting the depth of their own musical works.

But if a well-read reference automatically implies an underlying quality about the band’s music, what would it mean for a band who took their name from a low-brow best-seller or trashy airport novel instead? Can taking your name from one Dewey Decimal area mean your music is more likely to be headed for a particular record rack? Does a best-selling romance novel reference belong to a pop band? Or cult fiction to indie rock, horror to metal and a period piece to folk?

Just because a band has absorbed the works of master writers, does it automatically ensure they will become great songwriters and musicians? Let’s investigate some bands and the books from which they took their name.

Steppenwolf – Hermann Hesse, 1927. A story of one man’s battle between spirituality and animalistic tendencies.

Soft Machine – William S. Burrough, 1961. Largely misunderstood novel concerned with how control mechanisms invade the body.

The Stone Roses – Sarah Gainham, 1959. Spy thriller novel of Cold War “espionage and suspense”.

Mott the Hoople – Willard Manus, 1966. A louse-about runaway joins a circus of freaks to avoid being drafted.

Hot Water Music – Charles Bukowski, 1983. Short story collection.

The Grateful Dead – Gordon Hall Gerould, 1908. A study of various folk stories concerning the spirits of recently deceased and good deeds-doing lost souls.

Good Charlotte – Carol Beach York, 1994. A children’s book involving a girl with blue hair arriving at the Good Day Orphanage.

The Velvet Underground – Michael Leigh, 1963. Controversial examination of atypical sexual practices in society.

Belle & Sebastian – Cecile Aubrey, 1965. A French children’s story about a boy and his dog.

There are a couple of instances of the one book providing inspiration for a number of choice band names. Harper Lee’s classic To Kill A Mockingbird inspired the moniker of The Boo Radleys, Finch and Atticus, while the novel A Clockwork Orange spawned Heaven 17, Moloko, The Droogs and Horrorshow among others and also inspired the name of a prominent Victorian music venue – The Karova Lounge, and the name of an intimate Melbourne spot – The Korova Milk Bar.

On the flip side of the coin, can authors inherit some edginess by littering their literary works with musical references? Scottish best-selling crime and thriller writer Ian Rankin has variously named novels after the ‘Stones albums Black & Blue, Beggars Banquet and Let it Bleed; The Hanging Garden after a Cure song; and Dead Souls, a track by Joy Division – who themselves took their name from reference in a Karol Cetinsky book. Even an earlyand obscure Pulp single ‘My Legendary Girlfriend’ as found its way to a book’s spine, as has The Smiths ‘Girlfriend in a Coma’.

Perhaps the best examples of intermingling of music and literature are the more obscure and oblique references. Uriah Heap, The Holden Caulfields and Veruca Salt all take their name from characters in famous novels, while The Doors, The Airborne Toxic Event, They Might Be Giants, Collective Soul and Savage Garden take their names from phrases, quotes or concepts first expressed on paper. The most intriguing reference would have to be improv-jazz duo Steely Dan, who take their name from a steam-powered dildo present in William S. Burroughs’ classic book Naked Lunch.

Is it just plain wrong utilizing other people’s literary creativity to boost one’s own artistic expression? Can something be read into every band name or is it that in most cases a band name is simply just some cool phrase, character or passage that someone came across once and thought, ‘That’s tops! If I ever have a band, I’m calling it that’.

By Andy Ryan