Honest, Witty, entertaining, and thought-provoking. Jeff knows how to write well.
dark emotional funny inspiring reflective sad fast-paced

Tweedy is a terrific writer: funny, insightful, and highly readable. Great for anyone interested in music or creativity, not just Wilco fans.

I can’t recall reading any other music-related memoir, so it was all new to me to bear witness to this musician I have long admired break down his musical empire in ways that I could understand. Tweedy’s memoir is a conversation with the reader. The first chapter, in which he falls all over himself explaining what he wants to do and not do in the book, and the Epilogue, in which he pulls the title all together with the stories he’s told, are consistent with the many times he directly asks the reader a question or otherwise addresses us. I loved the chronicle of his life and the evolution of his creativity- childhood musical allure, Jay Farrar and Uncle Tupelo, Wilco and Jay Bennett, all the albums I’ve known and loved, his boys, his new solo album. He writes compellingly about how he makes music and why. Addiction is a major part of the story he tells; I found his rawness so refreshing and relatable after having a total breakdown in my early 40s as well. I felt so nostalgic for the days in which I discovered Wilco and listened to them all the time, and then also for the days when my now husband introduced me to Uncle Tupelo and Son Volt. Whatever old band mates or others might say about his weaknesses and bullshit (which sometimes I felt lurking under the surface of the stories he told of times gone bad), I feel so enriched this conversation with Jeff Tweedy and I’m so grateful he’s still making music that is important to my life.

A must read if you’re a Wilco fan. Jeff has evolved considerably since he’s been sober and that evident in his writing. He’s honest about his shortcomings and I really marveled at his descriptions of how he writes a song. It’s still baffling to me but grateful that he is still making so much music.

An honest and endearing music autobiography that takes you from Tweedy's youth in southern Illinois through band breakups and Wilco's success and his growing family. Ironically, the music autobiography this most reminds me of is Bruce Springsteen's, and Tweedy talks more than once about how growing up he didn't really want to be like Bruce Springsteen.

Yankee Hotel Foxtrot is one of my favorite albums of all time, but I don't know that I would consider myself a diehard Wilco fan, and therefore didn't know too much about the disputes he had with bandmates or this band's history before reading. What's most interesting, though, is getting insight into Tweedy's unique way of looking at the world and at music and creativity; that's where the book shined for me--not so much in the stories about drinking or fighting with the band or his drug abuse, but more his songwriting process, what it's like to be paid to do what you love and how wearing your heart on your sleeve can sometimes payoff in the end.

It’s not often my husband reads a book and hands it to me saying, “this book says things about myself in ways that I could never explain.” I was intrigued... I like Wilco and Jeff Tweedy...

Well, Jeff Tweedy can write. This a a beautifully written book about how his life turned out so far flaws and all.

This is a passage that I think speaks to my husband and all musicians. (Note, the guitar is not my thing.)

“Learning how to play the guitar is the one thing I always look back on with wonderment. I’m reminded of ‘What ifs?’ every time I pick up a guitar. Where would I be? I have sort of a survivor’s gilt about it that makes me want it for everyone. Not the ‘guitar’ exactly, but something like it for everybody. Something that would love them back the more they love it. Something that would remind them of how far they’ve come and provide clear evidence that the future is always unfolding toward some small treasure worth waiting for.”

As my husband sits in his office with his guitar, I guess this book does make me get it. The odd part is that I think books are my guitar, so in a weird way Jeff Tweedy connected an understanding in each of us.

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This was a moment of Right Book Right Time for me. I’ve been a middling Wilco fan for 10ish years, I love seeing the band live and they call up very specific Chicago memories for me. But I would never say I was a superfan meaning I didn’t know much of their history.

This book is as honest as I imagine many memoirs can be. It’s vulnerable, snide, and wryly funny in the way that Jeff Tweedy just IS. Listen to the audio, he reads it and there is a bonus outro song. You’ll find yourself wanting to revisit every Wilco album and side project again.

So we were all just angsty as hell, huh?