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I've never liked a book this much and simultaneously disliked it as well. For every utterly fascinating passage describing the origin of a song or an encounter with an interesting person like Allen Tousaint, there's a handful of odd skips forward and backward in time or a reference to something or another given too ambiguously. In between the excellent parts there were a few too many frustrating parts, which I suppose is fairly analogous to Costello's discography. Perhaps it was all intentional.
The book is alright. I am a huge fan of Elvis Costello and this is packed with interesting anecdotes about his various adventures; but while I know a lot about his music, I don’t necessarily know a ton about his life, and the jumbled nature of his storytelling makes it a bit hard to follow at times. I would give the audiobook narration itself 5 stars though, because I could listen to him read the phone book (or whatever has replaced that in our modern lives).
It has the potential to be a good book, but alas, it is merely a good manuscript in search of a decent editor.
Costello has myriad interesting anecdotes to share about his roughly 5 decades in the music biz, ranging from inspirational and touching stories of accompanying Allen Toussaint back to NoLa for the first time after Katrina to funny little asides about the clever comments dropped backstage from someone like Johnny Cash, Paul McCartney, Bonnie Raitt, or George Jones.
The main problem is that it is just incredibly disorganized. A memoir need not be linear, but it should at least give the reader some sense of context, and many of this anecdotes raise more questions than they answer before they end abruptly or guilelessly segue into another seemingly unrelated anecdote from a seemingly unrelated incident or person. He often doesn't give the context for a story until the story is almost done, leaving you confused to the last, or sometimes he just doesn't bother at all and you can only take it as a non sequitor. He often quotes or makes vague allusions to his own or other artists' bodies of work, expecting the reader to share his own encyclopedic knowledge of every lyric, song title, or reference from the last 70 years or so of British and American pop music. And the callbacks are multitude. He expects you to connect the one anecdote on page 668 to the one on page 2xx with alacrity, apparently. It is tiresome, to be kind. Perhaps a reader like Nick Hornby who is a little bit more "cut from the same cloth" and shares more musical context with the author would relate better, but as someone who has grown up with Costello being a constant presence in my musical life since I was old enough to understand what music was, I felt overwhelmed. I've never encountered anyone besides my own mother who has a bigger fondness and familiarity with his entire catalog, but I still found myself completely overwhelmed by this book, I felt like it is truly reserved for the most hardcore Costellophiles or music journalists alone. This is not for a casual fan.
On a similar topic, I found that I have long had a fundamental disagreement with Costello about his identity and talent. He really seems to see himself as a songwriter and singer par excellence, deeply absorbed in his own cleverness of lyric and the sound of his own voice, who also happens to play some guitar, piano or other instruments as needed. whereas I had always perceived of him as a musician who also sings and writes songs. The difference being that he goes to great pains to quote himself frequently (often without citing the name of the song or album it comes from, or only doing so in the most obtuse manner, leaving the reader to turn to google to piece it together) and detail the inspirations and thoughts behind every ballad or lyric written in collaboration with another artists, but spends little time talking about the MUSIC itself. He also seems to spend considerable page count denigrating his most popular and successful early albums as amateurish and hackneyed, nearly painting himself and the Attractions as little more than cover artists who just cobbled together different pieces of songs that inspired them to create their biggest hits.
Well those early records (the first 4 LPs) are IMHO far and away the best stuff he's ever produced, but he essentially brushed them off as rough attempts at learning how to make music and get a career off the ground. Meanwhile he goes into great detail about all the emotions and personal history that went into writing some of the most boring and unexciting work of his mid-career when he produced many forgettable and downright dull records. He is self-deprecating about his best work, while self-aggrandizing about his worst.
I guess I can understand where he is coming from, perhaps wanting to give recognition where it is has been denied, but it left me with a sour taste in my mouth: he essentially gives the message that I have poor taste because I prefer his early "bad" records over his later mid-period "good" records.
Costello has myriad interesting anecdotes to share about his roughly 5 decades in the music biz, ranging from inspirational and touching stories of accompanying Allen Toussaint back to NoLa for the first time after Katrina to funny little asides about the clever comments dropped backstage from someone like Johnny Cash, Paul McCartney, Bonnie Raitt, or George Jones.
The main problem is that it is just incredibly disorganized. A memoir need not be linear, but it should at least give the reader some sense of context, and many of this anecdotes raise more questions than they answer before they end abruptly or guilelessly segue into another seemingly unrelated anecdote from a seemingly unrelated incident or person. He often doesn't give the context for a story until the story is almost done, leaving you confused to the last, or sometimes he just doesn't bother at all and you can only take it as a non sequitor. He often quotes or makes vague allusions to his own or other artists' bodies of work, expecting the reader to share his own encyclopedic knowledge of every lyric, song title, or reference from the last 70 years or so of British and American pop music. And the callbacks are multitude. He expects you to connect the one anecdote on page 668 to the one on page 2xx with alacrity, apparently. It is tiresome, to be kind. Perhaps a reader like Nick Hornby who is a little bit more "cut from the same cloth" and shares more musical context with the author would relate better, but as someone who has grown up with Costello being a constant presence in my musical life since I was old enough to understand what music was, I felt overwhelmed. I've never encountered anyone besides my own mother who has a bigger fondness and familiarity with his entire catalog, but I still found myself completely overwhelmed by this book, I felt like it is truly reserved for the most hardcore Costellophiles or music journalists alone. This is not for a casual fan.
On a similar topic, I found that I have long had a fundamental disagreement with Costello about his identity and talent. He really seems to see himself as a songwriter and singer par excellence, deeply absorbed in his own cleverness of lyric and the sound of his own voice, who also happens to play some guitar, piano or other instruments as needed. whereas I had always perceived of him as a musician who also sings and writes songs. The difference being that he goes to great pains to quote himself frequently (often without citing the name of the song or album it comes from, or only doing so in the most obtuse manner, leaving the reader to turn to google to piece it together) and detail the inspirations and thoughts behind every ballad or lyric written in collaboration with another artists, but spends little time talking about the MUSIC itself. He also seems to spend considerable page count denigrating his most popular and successful early albums as amateurish and hackneyed, nearly painting himself and the Attractions as little more than cover artists who just cobbled together different pieces of songs that inspired them to create their biggest hits.
Well those early records (the first 4 LPs) are IMHO far and away the best stuff he's ever produced, but he essentially brushed them off as rough attempts at learning how to make music and get a career off the ground. Meanwhile he goes into great detail about all the emotions and personal history that went into writing some of the most boring and unexciting work of his mid-career when he produced many forgettable and downright dull records. He is self-deprecating about his best work, while self-aggrandizing about his worst.
I guess I can understand where he is coming from, perhaps wanting to give recognition where it is has been denied, but it left me with a sour taste in my mouth: he essentially gives the message that I have poor taste because I prefer his early "bad" records over his later mid-period "good" records.
4.5/5 - recommend listening to the audiobook as Elvis does some fun impressions of people he’s talking about!
funny
informative
reflective
medium-paced
Elvis Costello is one of the most creative musicians of our time, and he's one hell of a writer too. Naturally, I enjoyed his book a whole lot. It's easy to imagine that some one who lacked familiarity with, or affection for, the author's work might find less to appreciate. But his insight into human fallibility, especially his own, should make for a fascinating read for anybody with curiosity toward that subject. And his broad knowledge of music history, coupled with his genuinely universal taste in good records, removes Unfaithful Music beyond the realm of simple memoir.
Structurally, this book is more like a series of thematic reminiscences in essay form than a straight autobiography. The chronology is loose, skipping back and forth between different decades between and within chapters, while retaining something like forward momentum. Costello/MacManus (the author often seems to regard his stage name as a bewildering accident) leads us from his youth to his maturity while leaving interesting threads hanging. Usually he gets back to them later, without indicating he's in any sort of hurry to wrap everything up. There's anecdotes galore, many of them pertaining to his high regard for every musician but himself and how mortified he was about his own choices. Contemporary Elvis seems much more at ease in his own skin, but he's not likely to let his past selves off the hook any time soon.
Structurally, this book is more like a series of thematic reminiscences in essay form than a straight autobiography. The chronology is loose, skipping back and forth between different decades between and within chapters, while retaining something like forward momentum. Costello/MacManus (the author often seems to regard his stage name as a bewildering accident) leads us from his youth to his maturity while leaving interesting threads hanging. Usually he gets back to them later, without indicating he's in any sort of hurry to wrap everything up. There's anecdotes galore, many of them pertaining to his high regard for every musician but himself and how mortified he was about his own choices. Contemporary Elvis seems much more at ease in his own skin, but he's not likely to let his past selves off the hook any time soon.
4.5 stars!
Unfaithful Music is just short of 700 pages long. Whew! I originally checked out the audio book from my library back in December 2015, but the loan period of only 2 weeks proved insufficient to listen to the entire book. So, I got back in line for it and it finally came back in a couple of weeks ago.
I learned a LOT from this autobiography, which is my main reason for reading or listening to them in the first place. Some, like the Patti Smith one I listened to a few months back, M Train, only allow a small peek into the day to day life of the subject. I don't like that-I want to know more.
With Elvis, I learned about what happened with that racial slur incident that everyone's heard about. I'm not sure I accept his explanation, but I learned about it. I learned that I'm not familiar with even 10% of Elvis' career. I had no idea of the range of the artists with which he's worked, either writing songs for them, collaborating on songs with them, or performing with them. His relationship with artists like Allan Touissaint runs so deep-I had no idea. His love of the Blues, (a personal love of mine), and all types of music, really, was never as evident to me as it is now. I can sum it up this way I guess, I now have a huge list of music that I want to listen to-not only Elvis', but other artists too, like the aforementioned Allan Touissaint. I also need to see his show that was on the Sundance Channel I guess, (where was I when this was on?) called Spectacle.
The one thing I knew for sure about Declan McManus, which this book only confirmed, was that the man can write. Not only songs, but this book too. His narration only served to emphasize the power of his writing. When speaking about the death of his father, I was brought to tears. Maybe it's because my father's death was eerily similar, but I think it's more because of the feeling that comes through in both Elvis' writing and in his voice. Both of which help to explain why the man's career has been so long lasting.
I highly recommend this book to anyone looking to learn more about Elvis' life, career and music. Yes, I do feel that it runs a bit too long, but I enjoyed it just the same. I think you will too, if you're looking to satisfy your curiosity about the man. (If Your Aim is True, so to speak. )
Unfaithful Music is just short of 700 pages long. Whew! I originally checked out the audio book from my library back in December 2015, but the loan period of only 2 weeks proved insufficient to listen to the entire book. So, I got back in line for it and it finally came back in a couple of weeks ago.
I learned a LOT from this autobiography, which is my main reason for reading or listening to them in the first place. Some, like the Patti Smith one I listened to a few months back, M Train, only allow a small peek into the day to day life of the subject. I don't like that-I want to know more.
With Elvis, I learned about what happened with that racial slur incident that everyone's heard about. I'm not sure I accept his explanation, but I learned about it. I learned that I'm not familiar with even 10% of Elvis' career. I had no idea of the range of the artists with which he's worked, either writing songs for them, collaborating on songs with them, or performing with them. His relationship with artists like Allan Touissaint runs so deep-I had no idea. His love of the Blues, (a personal love of mine), and all types of music, really, was never as evident to me as it is now. I can sum it up this way I guess, I now have a huge list of music that I want to listen to-not only Elvis', but other artists too, like the aforementioned Allan Touissaint. I also need to see his show that was on the Sundance Channel I guess, (where was I when this was on?) called Spectacle.
The one thing I knew for sure about Declan McManus, which this book only confirmed, was that the man can write. Not only songs, but this book too. His narration only served to emphasize the power of his writing. When speaking about the death of his father, I was brought to tears. Maybe it's because my father's death was eerily similar, but I think it's more because of the feeling that comes through in both Elvis' writing and in his voice. Both of which help to explain why the man's career has been so long lasting.
I highly recommend this book to anyone looking to learn more about Elvis' life, career and music. Yes, I do feel that it runs a bit too long, but I enjoyed it just the same. I think you will too, if you're looking to satisfy your curiosity about the man. (If Your Aim is True, so to speak. )
A surprisingly underwhelming and disappointing read for me. There were a lot of music industry anecdotes and accounts of name-dropping (Hi again Bob!), an interesting history of his family, particularly his father, and lengthy explorations on songwriting and construction. I'm pretty sure it was the latter that just made this tome overly long and boring for me.
One of my long-time favorite aspects of his songs (cramming way more words in than can possibly be proper) seemed to be the downfall of his memoir, for me anyway. Bummer.
One of my long-time favorite aspects of his songs (cramming way more words in than can possibly be proper) seemed to be the downfall of his memoir, for me anyway. Bummer.
Declan McManus is unsurprisingly forensic with his account of being a minstrel for nigh on 50 years. He gives the reader a significant "Who do you think you are?" chunk, and as with that program, it's extremely enlightening to understand the plight of his forebears. It is essential reading for those seeking to understand what goes on under the hood of songwriting.
It is great to read a considered and honest review of a career that is peppered with anecdotes that delight. Totally remedies my malady from reading Phil Collins forlorn tome......
It is great to read a considered and honest review of a career that is peppered with anecdotes that delight. Totally remedies my malady from reading Phil Collins forlorn tome......
Desperately in need of an editor, but relentlessly entertaining nevertheless. Full of glorious anecdotes about starting out as a new wave punk and writing songs with McCartney and Bacharach and appearing on stage with Dylan and Aretha and having tea with Johnny Cash and on and on. Any way you sing it, it's a life well lived.
If you're a music nut and came up age in the late 70s/80s, then this is 5-stars because it's loaded with lots of little things.
But . . . It's long. Really long. Part of the problem is that each chapter tends to combine two topics that are brought into juxtaposition. So that's interesting, but disruptive of a sequential narrative.
Meanwhile, much of the best stuff is in the final 150 pages, in particular, the author's loss of his father and the emergence of his relationship with Diana Krall.
So, a mixed bag. I wouldn't really have it any other way, but for those who are looking for an artist's narrative, this requires maybe more work than one would expect.
But . . . It's long. Really long. Part of the problem is that each chapter tends to combine two topics that are brought into juxtaposition. So that's interesting, but disruptive of a sequential narrative.
Meanwhile, much of the best stuff is in the final 150 pages, in particular, the author's loss of his father and the emergence of his relationship with Diana Krall.
So, a mixed bag. I wouldn't really have it any other way, but for those who are looking for an artist's narrative, this requires maybe more work than one would expect.