Take a photo of a barcode or cover
3.85 AVERAGE
3.85 AVERAGE
It's really hard to know what to write about this mammoth volume (the audiobook runs nearly 18 hours) after a first listen. I actually got a regular ebook copy midway to look up quotes and at some point I intend to read it properly because Costello's scattershot approach to his life is kind of like an assault in audio form, though his reading is effective from scene to scene.
Until I got used to Costello's tone, the book really reminded me of the book I expected Morrissey's autobiography to be more than anything. Then it became more like Miles Davis' autobiography. I've written about Jewel and Drew Barrymore's recent books revealing to me chunks of their life I wasn't aware of but I don't really think I'd ever considered "the real" Elvis Costello at all, only paying attention to his music. I knew he'd made a ton of great pop songs, and then suddenly disappeared into more artful creations (I did watch his TV show Spectacle too, but I'd completely forgotten about it til he mentioned it here).
He goes into his entire life story in exhaustive detail, but it's as constantly poetic as you'd expect (my favourite is his description of Chet Baker's singing: "fragile, but only like glass"). At first I have to admit I mistook his poetry for pretension (that Morrissey connection again) but by the end I was completely mesmerised and wanting to start over (I will, when I find time).
Until I got used to Costello's tone, the book really reminded me of the book I expected Morrissey's autobiography to be more than anything. Then it became more like Miles Davis' autobiography. I've written about Jewel and Drew Barrymore's recent books revealing to me chunks of their life I wasn't aware of but I don't really think I'd ever considered "the real" Elvis Costello at all, only paying attention to his music. I knew he'd made a ton of great pop songs, and then suddenly disappeared into more artful creations (I did watch his TV show Spectacle too, but I'd completely forgotten about it til he mentioned it here).
He goes into his entire life story in exhaustive detail, but it's as constantly poetic as you'd expect (my favourite is his description of Chet Baker's singing: "fragile, but only like glass"). At first I have to admit I mistook his poetry for pretension (that Morrissey connection again) but by the end I was completely mesmerised and wanting to start over (I will, when I find time).
Fascinating to me for its look into the creative process of someone who has been in the music business for so many years. It shows how sometimes you get these flashes of inspiration and strike gold but, more often than not, you have something simmering around in the background for years and years. I just wish it had an index...so many great artists mentioned as well as many, many songs and lyrics included.
One of the best memoirs I've ever read. The hardest part was not stopping constantly to go listen to Costello's music. Also, if you have a chance to check out the audiobook, do so. It's read by the author himself, adding to the charm.
No surprise that Elvis writes prose as well as lyrics. I like his remark about it being no surprise that after working on his autobiography for 3 years or so, that he came to the realization that he didn't care for the subject. He deals with it all, including those times earlier in his career when he was running his mouth, perhaps fueled by alcohol (or worse). His reverence for his father is wonderful to read, and this comes up repeatedly throughout the book. The non-chronological order of the book didn't bother me, and in fact was a nice change from the usual autobiography.
After putting it off for a year or so, I found myself picking Unfaithful Music back up for another try. I jumped back in exactly where I left off and let the vague recollection of what I'd already read fall into place, and my enjoyment was all the better for it. Costello's scattered beginnings eventually start to find common threads, and as you become accustomed to certain names and places, the read becomes much kinder. Though I definitely entered into this book hoping to read about his early career, as that's where I'm most fluent, I can easily say I immensely enjoyed and preferred the later portions of the book that detail his foray in orchestration/jazz/the like, as well as the reckonings of his family life. The more years Costello had to his name and with them a sharper outlook, the more merit I found to the telling of the story. His love of music and humbleness in that love was incredibly touching, and the reverence with which he names all of these legends, both departed and still among us, didn't feel cheap, nor overly fanatical--rather, it was sweet and worked to shade in some parts of his character that can only be understood by an outside perspective. I have a host of names to look into now, which feels like the most I could give back for such an honest, worthwhile read. Though some corners are artfully skirted, they were meant to be--even when an artist sets out to give these pieces away willingly, we still aren't owed everything, and especially in a book as long as this one, we were given more than could even be expected. I have a new respect for both the man and his music, and I'm greatly looking forward to exploring the finer points of his catalogue with the light shed in these pages. After blazing through 2/3 of the page count in less than a week, I stand by my assertion that Costello's writing is a lot like sitting down with your uncle who used to party back in the day, but now I can say I'll greatly miss these talks.
Explanation after DNF'ing in November of 2021: Reading this book is a lot like sitting down with your uncle who used to party back in the day and his box of old photographs. You note some familiar names and faces with a smile, listen with interest as he explains the scenes captured all those years ago now spread out on the kitchen table before you, but at some point you start to get confused, a little dizzy, from the rambling way he explains it all.
Costello's writing is comfortable, just as chatty and winding as a conversation, and that pulls you in, but the construction of this book is a mess. He'll start telling a story and somewhere along the way you realize it feels like he never finishes telling any of them, instead doing the written equivalent of "hey, that reminds me of the time..." and telling another story within the first. We bounce around the years so often it's hard to tell where in the world you are, literally. Whether we're back to childhood or at familiar points in his career or closer to current times. It's frustrating, because the stories he does have to tell are fun and compelling, I just wish someone had thought to organize this box of photos.
I'm DNF'ing, but I'm going to do something I never do and keep this book around on my shelves. I actually think I'd like to finish it one day, it's just too hard to focus on for now.
Explanation after DNF'ing in November of 2021: Reading this book is a lot like sitting down with your uncle who used to party back in the day and his box of old photographs. You note some familiar names and faces with a smile, listen with interest as he explains the scenes captured all those years ago now spread out on the kitchen table before you, but at some point you start to get confused, a little dizzy, from the rambling way he explains it all.
Costello's writing is comfortable, just as chatty and winding as a conversation, and that pulls you in, but the construction of this book is a mess. He'll start telling a story and somewhere along the way you realize it feels like he never finishes telling any of them, instead doing the written equivalent of "hey, that reminds me of the time..." and telling another story within the first. We bounce around the years so often it's hard to tell where in the world you are, literally. Whether we're back to childhood or at familiar points in his career or closer to current times. It's frustrating, because the stories he does have to tell are fun and compelling, I just wish someone had thought to organize this box of photos.
I'm DNF'ing, but I'm going to do something I never do and keep this book around on my shelves. I actually think I'd like to finish it one day, it's just too hard to focus on for now.
I gave it the good ol' college try, but I couldn't finish this long-winded, unself-aware memoir. I slogged through Morrissey's memoir a few months ago and one self-indulgent memoir per year is all I can handle.
This memoir is a hot mess. What on earth is going on in the publishing industry?! Are there no more editors?! There was the potential for a great memoir here, but that didn't happen because Elvis was given free rein to write - and not write - whatever he felt like, no matter whether it furthered the book or not.
I read about a third of the book and then skimmed the rest. There is absolutely no self-assessment or growth in the memoir. Just a stream of consciousness about parts of his life. Elvis doesn't write in a chronological order, there is no continuity for the reader. The memoir veers wildly about, never settling on one thing for long.
The final straw for me was Elvis's HUGE problem with women. For some reason he never explains, Elvis looks up to his philandering father and that colors his relationships with women when he grows up. Why emulate a cheater? Why excuse the behavior ("oh, my mom never complained about it so it's no biggie")? Elvis has a real madonna/whore complex going on. Because of his Catholicism? Who knows! Elvis is all surface, no depth and never discusses why he acts the way he does. He is the king of downplaying and dismissing his behaviors. "It's too boring to write about" is how he rationalizes not writing in detail about any of his serious relationships except with his current wife. Hmmmm. So all the women prior to Diana Krall are "too boring" to write about? It reminds me of the old saying about how if you are complaining about how everyone around you is an asshole that maybe what is really happening is that YOU are the asshole, not every other person you interact with. It made me wonder what really went down in those other relationships that he cannot discuss them at all.
I was looking forward to hearing about Elvis producing my favorite Pogues album and his meeting with Cait O'Riordan and what it was like for him to be involved - for 16 years! - with another musician and if that strengthened or hurt the relationship, both being in the same business. There is so much to write about here. They collaborated professionally and also were married. How do those two relationships overlap? What drew him to her? What caused them to break up? Instead Elvis devotes about 2 sentences in the book to her.
He writes about a paragraph about Bebe Buell, who he dated for years. Also extremely dismissive of her. No mention of how he pushed her to have an abortion - threatening to break up with her if she did not and make her raise the baby alone. It would have been interesting to hear about how he went back and forth from his childhood sweetheart/first wife to the much more worldly Bebe. Hello there Madonna/Whore complex! He could have written about how conflicted he felt being with Bebe, who represented the debauched rock n roll world that punk rock was degenerating. His relationship with her caused a lot of problems with his band but again, not written about.
I adore Elvis's music and am very sad that his memoir was such a huge disappointment.
This memoir is a hot mess. What on earth is going on in the publishing industry?! Are there no more editors?! There was the potential for a great memoir here, but that didn't happen because Elvis was given free rein to write - and not write - whatever he felt like, no matter whether it furthered the book or not.
I read about a third of the book and then skimmed the rest. There is absolutely no self-assessment or growth in the memoir. Just a stream of consciousness about parts of his life. Elvis doesn't write in a chronological order, there is no continuity for the reader. The memoir veers wildly about, never settling on one thing for long.
The final straw for me was Elvis's HUGE problem with women. For some reason he never explains, Elvis looks up to his philandering father and that colors his relationships with women when he grows up. Why emulate a cheater? Why excuse the behavior ("oh, my mom never complained about it so it's no biggie")? Elvis has a real madonna/whore complex going on. Because of his Catholicism? Who knows! Elvis is all surface, no depth and never discusses why he acts the way he does. He is the king of downplaying and dismissing his behaviors. "It's too boring to write about" is how he rationalizes not writing in detail about any of his serious relationships except with his current wife. Hmmmm. So all the women prior to Diana Krall are "too boring" to write about? It reminds me of the old saying about how if you are complaining about how everyone around you is an asshole that maybe what is really happening is that YOU are the asshole, not every other person you interact with. It made me wonder what really went down in those other relationships that he cannot discuss them at all.
I was looking forward to hearing about Elvis producing my favorite Pogues album and his meeting with Cait O'Riordan and what it was like for him to be involved - for 16 years! - with another musician and if that strengthened or hurt the relationship, both being in the same business. There is so much to write about here. They collaborated professionally and also were married. How do those two relationships overlap? What drew him to her? What caused them to break up? Instead Elvis devotes about 2 sentences in the book to her.
He writes about a paragraph about Bebe Buell, who he dated for years. Also extremely dismissive of her. No mention of how he pushed her to have an abortion - threatening to break up with her if she did not and make her raise the baby alone. It would have been interesting to hear about how he went back and forth from his childhood sweetheart/first wife to the much more worldly Bebe. Hello there Madonna/Whore complex! He could have written about how conflicted he felt being with Bebe, who represented the debauched rock n roll world that punk rock was degenerating. His relationship with her caused a lot of problems with his band but again, not written about.
I adore Elvis's music and am very sad that his memoir was such a huge disappointment.
How can a 670-page autobiography feel incomplete? Costello is a wonderful writer -- just as witty and insightful and withering as you'd expect if you're at all familiar with his music. But the topics feel all out of proportion. I didn't mind the nonchronological approach, but he's coy about the personal topics and expansive about all of his way-less-interesting post-Attractions collaborations, charity benefit performances, etc. His 17-year relationship with Cait O'Riordan (I was surprised to learn here that they were never legally married) merits only two pages of vague regret, but then he barfs up approximately 300 pages of namedropping T-BoneBurnettBobDylanEmmylouHarrisJohnnyCashAllenToussaintScarlettJohannsenblahblahblah. Also, anyone looking for some inside scoop on why the Attractions broke up is SOL -- something about drinking and Bruce Thomas being a jerk? It's all very reticent for a guy who once wrote "I wish you luck with a capital F."
The throughline is his relationship with his father and grandfather, also musicians, and Costello writes beautifully about them, and about his relationships with his own sons, who also seem inclined toward the family business. The chapter about his father's death from Parkinson's had me sobbing.
The throughline is his relationship with his father and grandfather, also musicians, and Costello writes beautifully about them, and about his relationships with his own sons, who also seem inclined toward the family business. The chapter about his father's death from Parkinson's had me sobbing.
dark
funny
informative
lighthearted
slow-paced
Finally finished this whilst on holiday. There is no doubt that Elvis is exceptionally gifted as a songwriter and musician - his knowledge of music is profound, which is ably demonstrated here. Clearly he often did not behave well when younger; like his music, he has had rough and smooth moments. Tellingly, with the exception of his first wife Mary, he is very coy in the book about his other long term relationships. The book starts in a conventional way, talking about his early life in an engaging narrative. Six hundred-odd pages later and he has dissolved into a melange of thoughts and memories and lyrics and stories, trotting around the timelines unrestrainedly. I'm afraid this became wearisome for me. A good editor might have made this a better autobiography of a fascinating and talented man.
As a longtime Elvis Costello fan, I snapped up and read his memoir, "Unfaithful Music & Disappearing Ink," the moment it became available. I loved it, and I think you will too -- especially if you're already a fan of his, of music generally, and/or of great writing, with a strong dose of self-deprecating British/Beatlesque humour. (He has roots in Liverpool and spent part of his growing up years in nearby Birkenhead.)
It's not perfect -- it's a long read (almost 700 pages!) & the narrative does ramble, going back & forth in time. Song lyrics are quoted at length, although sometimes I wasn't sure whether they were Elvis's or someone else's. It's all a tad self-indulgent, perhaps -- but you forgive the guy (at least, I did), because he's such a great writer and storyteller. There are some stories he refrains from telling or glosses over -- for example, I can't remember if he even names Wife #2? -- Cait O'Riordan of the Pogues -- and while it lasted 16 years (!), he says very little about that marriage, although we gather that it was not a happy time in his life, particularly toward the end.
While I was familiar with Elvis & his music, particularly the early stuff, there was a lot I didn't know about him personally. His dad, Ross MacManus, was a versatile big band singer who also recorded knock-off covers of current hits. He even played a Royal Command performance on the same bill with a hot new band called the Beatles (the very same show where John Lennon infamously instructed the audience, "Those of you in the cheaper seats, clap your hands... the rest of you, if you'll just rattle your jewelry..."). His grandfather, Patrick MacManus, played in an orchestra aboard ships for the White Star line.
So music is clearly in Elvis's bones & blood: he's a walking encyclopedia of musical knowledge and appreciation that spans genres and decades. Beyond the stuff we're all familiar with, he's recorded country, soul and jazz music, scored films and plays, and collaborated with everyone from Paul McCartney and Burt Bacharach to Loretta Lynn and Allen Toussaint. Johnny Cash & June Carter Cash, George Jones, Levon Helm, Joni Mitchell, Tony Bennett, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan are just a few of the other musicians who make memorable appearances in the pages of this book. Reading it was a great way to spend Christmas holidays & start off the new year.
It's not perfect -- it's a long read (almost 700 pages!) & the narrative does ramble, going back & forth in time. Song lyrics are quoted at length, although sometimes I wasn't sure whether they were Elvis's or someone else's. It's all a tad self-indulgent, perhaps -- but you forgive the guy (at least, I did), because he's such a great writer and storyteller. There are some stories he refrains from telling or glosses over -- for example, I can't remember if he even names Wife #2? -- Cait O'Riordan of the Pogues -- and while it lasted 16 years (!), he says very little about that marriage, although we gather that it was not a happy time in his life, particularly toward the end.
While I was familiar with Elvis & his music, particularly the early stuff, there was a lot I didn't know about him personally. His dad, Ross MacManus, was a versatile big band singer who also recorded knock-off covers of current hits. He even played a Royal Command performance on the same bill with a hot new band called the Beatles (the very same show where John Lennon infamously instructed the audience, "Those of you in the cheaper seats, clap your hands... the rest of you, if you'll just rattle your jewelry..."). His grandfather, Patrick MacManus, played in an orchestra aboard ships for the White Star line.
So music is clearly in Elvis's bones & blood: he's a walking encyclopedia of musical knowledge and appreciation that spans genres and decades. Beyond the stuff we're all familiar with, he's recorded country, soul and jazz music, scored films and plays, and collaborated with everyone from Paul McCartney and Burt Bacharach to Loretta Lynn and Allen Toussaint. Johnny Cash & June Carter Cash, George Jones, Levon Helm, Joni Mitchell, Tony Bennett, Bruce Springsteen and Bob Dylan are just a few of the other musicians who make memorable appearances in the pages of this book. Reading it was a great way to spend Christmas holidays & start off the new year.