THE name Keith Moon will always be associated with wild, hell-raising antics; his lifestyle and expertise as a drummer have made him a rock and roll legend.

When he died, almost a year ago, he left a gap in the ranks of one of the world's greatest rock bands — The Who. It was a gap that was, eventually, filled by his replacement Kenny Jones.

But in terms of originality and charisma, it is unlikely that the music world will again produce a drummer and personality of his kind.

Ivan Waterman first met Keith Moon four years ago at a reception in London and has written a book called "Keith Moon — the life and death of a rock legend" (Arrow Books).

It is a biography which traces the drummer's rise to superstardom, from the

early days when Moon lived in Chaplin Road, Wembley and was a pupil at Alperton High School, to the dizzy heights of success — and finally to his death.

Mr Waterman (30) is the show business editor of the News of the World. His book is the result of only four months research, research made easy because of his following over the years, of The Who and the contacts that he has built up in the world of show business.

He said: "Originally, I was hoping to sit down with Keith and do a 'ghosted' autobiography, at the time he was busy trying to put together a book about himself from letters he had received from fans. Just as I was about to take it a step further, he died.

"I think that he would have liked things to be spelt out simply, which is what I have tried to do. I first saw The Who when it all started, when I was a young Mod of 15. We used to pile into the Marquee on Tuesday nights to see them. Even then everybody knew that they were watching something very special.

"I wouldn't say that I was a friend of Moon's, I see my relationship with him in terms of someone who tried, as a journalist, to reach deeper than a lot of other journalists.

"I am not sure if anybody quite knew him. You would see him one say and he would be melancholy for ten minutes, then suddenly he would start throwing things around and the drinks would flow. Other days he would be dressed quite normally and would decide that he wanted some pictures taken of him — he would disappear and come back dressed up as Queen Elizabeth II.

"He had an identity crisis, he always had a phobia about anybody being able to walk away and say, 'I just saw Keith Moon walking and talking like a normal person.' He always wanted to be exciting, something had to be happening, if nothing was, he would instantly get up and make something happen.

"Whenever the press were close he became like something out of the London Palladium."

In his book, Mr Waterman makes continual reference to the madcap activities of Moon. Like the time he savaged Steve McQueen's guard dog or the time he dynamited the doors of a New York hotel.

But how much is fact and much is fiction? Mr Waterman said: "A lot of the facts about his antics were second-hand, but some of my friends were actually there at other times, or pictures were taken.

"I never actually saw him doing anything more spectacular than throwing drinks over people in clubs. Most things are well documented, 99 per cent of the stories are true."

Mr Waterman's involvement with show business began early in his career when he worked with a reporter called Steve Nice on the East London Advertiser. Steve Nice was later to find fame under the name Steve Harley, as lead singer with the group Cockney Rebel.

Steve Harley, actor Oliver Reed, and Keith Moon's personal aides all helped in the research of the book.

Mr Waterman said: "I think that the rest of the group always saw Keith as a clown who had a tear-drop running down his face. Keith Moon was a terrifically great personality, a man who very rarely slept; someone who looked upon life as something precious and something to use, not very many people do that today.

"I admired him very much for his attitude, I think you would kill yourself in next to no time trying to do what he did. When he died I was genuinely shocked, I felt sad because he was one of the few characters alive in show business who was more than just an entertainer."

"He really did live his life 24 hours a day. He could be great, great fun to be with — and there are very few people alive now whom you can say that about. The wild ones have been swept aside and all that is left is one barren mute of mindless zombies who have great trouble stringing more than three sentences together."

Mr Waterman has no plans to write another book in the immediate future.