Take a photo of a barcode or cover
228 reviews for:
Let's Go (So We Can Get Back): A Memoir of Recording and Discording with Wilco, Etc.
Jeff Tweedy
4.38 AVERAGE
228 reviews for:
Let's Go (So We Can Get Back): A Memoir of Recording and Discording with Wilco, Etc.
Jeff Tweedy
4.38 AVERAGE
It reads like a conversation with Tweedy at a kitchen table. He’s raw, honest and open. I loved it.
There will never be another rock and roll memoir that will hit me as hard as this one. It's better than I could've ever hoped for. And now I'm going to listen to Wilco songs for the rest of the year.
Probably a little better than I expected. Musically, it feels a little slight -- when Tweedy talks about his songs, he skims a lot and the modesty can get a little boring. He never really goes into much detail. Where this memoir succeeds is in its descriptions of the author's relationships -- with his parents, his wife, his kids, his friends and bandmates. Lots of great stuff about the Uncle Tupelo days in Belleville, though I suspect he's been a bit hard on Jay Farrar. Lots of great Chicago stories with Wilco. If you're a fan, there's no way you'll be disappointed. He's a charming, insightful, and honest writer. But if you're going into it looking for in-depth treatments of particular songs, well, this is not that book.
I want to be Jeff's new best friend...or even, like, fetch him coffee while he works.
What’s not to love about Jeff Tweedy? Honest and enjoyable memoir by a guy who’s done the emotional work to be the best version of himself and who has made some truly wonderful music.
The stories about a pharmacist/fan just handing him bags of opioids were frankly terrifying—he’s lucky to be alive. I wonder if the pharmacist made it through his own addiction. Yikes.
The stories about a pharmacist/fan just handing him bags of opioids were frankly terrifying—he’s lucky to be alive. I wonder if the pharmacist made it through his own addiction. Yikes.
A very thoughtful, honest stroll through Jeff Tweedy's journey to this point. Like his songs, Tweedy tackles complex issues by revealing their simplicities: They can all be boiled down to their essentials. There is one chapter that stands out to me, a chapter that looks at his theory and practice when it comes to creating. Although I don't believe it was meant to be inspiring, it is. For the Wilco/Uncle Tupelo fan, there is enough here to gain insights into that part of his life, but I walked away feeling as though I know Tweedy the man (not the rock icon) better...and I like him, warts and all.
emotional
funny
inspiring
reflective
fast-paced
I want to be Jeff Tweedy when I grow up.
I like Wilco, but I love this book. Tweedy comes across as refreshingly down to earth, willing to admit when he is wrong and even how he's struggled to live up to the expectations of being a "rock star." (Which, frankly, he doesn't.) He's worked hard on his marriage, dotes on his two sons, and really works at being a professional musician, whether it's writing a song every day or simply trying to express in music what's going on in his brain.
He freely admits his struggles, including a mental health crisis that put him in a facility for months (and not one of the high-priced ones you read about; this was a run-of-the-mill place in Chicago where his housemates were felons and the fallen). He agonizes over his wife's cancer, laments the way he left relationships with people he no longer plays with, and simply puts one foot in front of the other.
(Also, he converted to Judaism for his wife and sons. A fellow landsman! I never would have expected that. Too bad he only hints at the story of his adult bris.)
He finds things to admire in all kinds of music and doesn't put down the stuff he doesn't like. Even the story of Uncle Tupelo's tour bus -- provided by the record label and formerly used by Kiss, with the attendant decor -- comes through with a gentle smirk.
He sounds like a good guy to hang around with -- and he's a great, and honest, storyteller. After all the predictable rock memoirs I've read, it was nice to be continually surprised by one that was willing to burrow deep inside.
I like Wilco, but I love this book. Tweedy comes across as refreshingly down to earth, willing to admit when he is wrong and even how he's struggled to live up to the expectations of being a "rock star." (Which, frankly, he doesn't.) He's worked hard on his marriage, dotes on his two sons, and really works at being a professional musician, whether it's writing a song every day or simply trying to express in music what's going on in his brain.
He freely admits his struggles, including a mental health crisis that put him in a facility for months (and not one of the high-priced ones you read about; this was a run-of-the-mill place in Chicago where his housemates were felons and the fallen). He agonizes over his wife's cancer, laments the way he left relationships with people he no longer plays with, and simply puts one foot in front of the other.
(Also, he converted to Judaism for his wife and sons. A fellow landsman! I never would have expected that. Too bad he only hints at the story of his adult bris.)
He finds things to admire in all kinds of music and doesn't put down the stuff he doesn't like. Even the story of Uncle Tupelo's tour bus -- provided by the record label and formerly used by Kiss, with the attendant decor -- comes through with a gentle smirk.
He sounds like a good guy to hang around with -- and he's a great, and honest, storyteller. After all the predictable rock memoirs I've read, it was nice to be continually surprised by one that was willing to burrow deep inside.
funny
reflective
fast-paced
Excellent read. This book is very well written. It seemed to flow very nicely without a lot of BS that I would often tend to not believe from other writers. It was written in a way that would keep my attention.