I've been a Nick Hornby fan ever since I read High Fidelity and was blown away by what I consider to be one of the best "pop" novels ever written. But ever since reading High Fidelity, I've felt let down by his work. It's not that the other novels aren't enjoyable, but they don't emanate the same kind of raw honesty and personal meaning that High Fidelity did for me. There was something about that book that just seems very true to me.

That said, this is best book I've read by him since High Fidelity, and it might have something to do with the ground it covers: pop music. Rather than seeing and feeling pop music through the eyes of a fictional character, like we did with Rob in HF, Hornby writes about his own personal connection to music in this book. Each chapter talks about a song that has some sort of meaning for him. He tells the story of how he came to discover the song or of the moment that the song touched him. The moments would seem trivial if related by anyone else, but Hornby uses the stories as a launch pad to generalize about human experience, communication, and emotion. In one chapter, for example, he talks about his autistic son and how music is the one area in life where is son expresses himself, not by singing or dancing but just by listening intently and passionately. Subsequently Hornby writes about how he thinks all of us use music to express emotions that we can't verbally communicate very well with others.

Most of the songs he discusses is stuff you probably haven't heard before. But after reading the book you'll definitely want to listen to them. I recommend googling each song as you read the chapter. Google has a neat feature that will connect you to an mp3 of the song if it's available. You can stream the song for free while you read the chapter. You'll discover that Hornby has great taste.

“All I have to say about these songs is that I love them, and want to sing along to them, and force other people to listen to them, and get cross when these other people don’t like them as much as I do.”

Don’t I know that feeling, Nick… It should come as no surprise that the man who wrote “High Fidelity” wrote a book like this: I feel like he must have had most of this book in a back drawer somewhere as he created the character of Rob and his compulsive ‘top 5’ list making. I kept thinking about Rob wanting to re-arrange his record collection ‘autobiographically’: I’m guessing that this is what that would end up looking like.

But to be fair, he has a lot more to say than simply ‘I like this song’. I just read Jeff Tweedy’s book “World With a Song” (https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...), and he really focuses on the songs themselves, as where Hornby uses the songs to go on tangents about music that don’t necessarily have anything to do with the song the chapter is named after. This makes both books much more different than I had assumed they would be, and I have to say, they both scratch a totally different itch. Sometimes, you just want to deep dive on what a song has meant to you, what it makes you think of; but other times, the song is just an excuse to talk about why indie record stores matter, or what it feels like to have reached the life stage where you make fun of your kids’ taste in music…

Case in point: I got a copy of this book after realizing that Hornby and I both have a thing for Paul Westerberg (though I suspect the nature of our ‘thing’ differs - at least slightly) and that he had dedicated a chapter of this collection to the song “Born for Me”, a gorgeous piece I can listen to on a loop for hours without getting sick of it. I was somewhat disappointed because that chapter is not really about Westerberg at all (or the actual song, for that matter!), but about Hornby’s thoughts about solos, and how they serve as emotional punctuation in the hands of skillful musicians. Still interesting, just not exactly what I expected. But that’s not a bad thing.

Further case in point: I was very skeptical he would have anything to say about Nelly Furtado that I would actually care about, but he did have really interesting things to say about the power of a flavor-of-the-month pop song, how it can give temporary joy and bring people together even when it’s not an objectively good piece of music. In fact, that sort of discussion is a refreshing reminder that music doesn’t have to be ‘serious’ to be enjoyable, and it’s not a big deal. It’s exactly what I love about Chappell Roan, as a matter of fact, the pure joy her music gives me (though I firmly believe she will stand the test of time much better than Nelly Furtado ever has).

It must be noted that the book was published almost twenty-five years ago, so it feels stale at times, because there’s obviously nothing terribly fresh on his list (though in his defense, a lot of songs on my own top 31 would probably pre-date my birth, so I don’t want to throw stones from my glass castle). I wonder if he ever considered updating it and if he has since changed his mind about some of those songs. A life-long song is rather rare, while there are plenty of ‘favorite for now’ songs out there.

If I am honest, I liked Jeff Tweedy’s take on this exercise a bit better, probably simply due to the fact that our references and tastes overlap a bit more. Tweedy’s book is also much more recent, so I was more familiar with his selection. But Hornby’s prose is always fun, engaging, and thought-provoking, which makes it a pleasure to read.

Recommended for music fans, and please note that it really doesn’t matter if you like the same music as Hornby’s; it only matters that you care about music, any music.



“Sometimes, very occasionally, songs and books and films and pictures express who you are, perfectly. And they don’t do this in words or images, necessarily; the connection is a lot less direct and more complicated than that."

I was playing Queen for my daughter today, thinking it's 24 years since I first consciously listened to their music and irremediably fell in love with them (read Freddie, mostly) and I just realized I didn't say a word about this little lovely book.

"Sometimes, very occasionally, songs and books and films and pictures express who you are, perfectly. And they don’t do this in words or images, necessarily; the connection is a lot less direct and more complicated than that"

This quote really sums up what 31 Songs (Songbook) is about. There's a lot of love in it, for music, obviously, for Danny, his autistic son, for friends, for places, for Bruce (Springsteen), for Lee (not Bruce Lee, though :-)), there's sadness and there's joy. It's almost like an open invitation to introspection. I'd love to do it, but I'm not sure I'm ready to dig so deep into myself.

Hornby is just about my age, and as we all know a person's age is one of the best determiners of the sort of things you'll have on your shelf. Although I am more of a jazz listener than Hornby, I found that there was a fairly extensive crossover between my collection and his list. What makes the book fun-- what makes lists like that fun-- are the arguments he sets out to make the case for his selections. His defense of Rod Stewart, for example, is spot on-- Stewart is cool, up to a point, and then he is inexcusable. It is best to pretend that his career ended about the time of "Smiler" and move on. None of want to think about what came next, but what came before was pretty terrific.

I am tempted to say that what I liked about the book was that it was like "High Fidelity" without all the relationship stuff, but of course it is impossible to write about pop music and not have some emotional seepage-- one of the reasons that there is pop music is that it allows even the most buttoned up personality a means of expressing things that otherwise would go unsaid. There is no prettier Valentine than a mix tape for exactly that reason, and that is what Hornby accomplishes in this book.

3.5

Este libro de Nick Hornby es una amable colección de ensayos en los que el autor explora de manera autobiográfica su relación con la música a través de 31 canciones que le gustan. No las que considera las mejores del mundo, sino simplemente aquellas que le despiertan algo, que lo transportan a un momento, a alguna etapa de la vida, a algún estado de ánimo, a un concepto.
Quizás yo no soy lo suficientemente melómana para este libro. Quizás los gustos de Hornby están estrictamente ceñidos a un ambiente anglosajón (lo cual no es un problema en sí, él es inglés y es lógico que esa sea su banda sonora). Esto hace que, al leerlo, me costara conectar porque esas referencias, por geografía, por falta de cultura general, por distancias generacionales, etc., a mí me quedaban un poco perdidas.
Esto no significa que haya sido una pérdida de tiempo. Muy por el contrario, uno puede escuchar a un físico apasionado hablar de Einstein sin entender ni jota y aún así admirarse y disfrutar con la pasión con la que habla. La música, por otra parte, la música popular, es más accesible para todos que la física. Aunque no tengamos la misma experiencia que Nick Hornby con cierta banda, nuestra mente inmediatamente compara experiencias, elabora listas personales.
Así, el libro brilla más para mí cuando toca experiencias universales. Particularmente conmovedores son los ensayos en que se refiere a su hijo.
Es mi primera introducción a leer a Hornby -extraño lugar para empezar, eso seguro-y me quedo con ganas de seguir. Tiene una sencillez encantadora, un universo urbano de hombre rockero sensible que me resulta muy simpático.

fands toll :) das buch ist von 2004 und besteht aus essays zur (damals aktuellen) pop(musik)kultur ( ich war erstmal überrascht, was bei ihm alles in das genre pop fällt haha). Nichts weltbewegendes & einfach zu lesen.
Aber die essays hatten die perfekte mischung aus persönlichen stories zu den vorgestellten songs, reflektierten (und nicht zu ernst genommene) kommentaren und interessanten denkanstößen.

damals wurde musik noch ausschließlich über platten, kassetten und cds konsumiert & ich habe auf jeden fall gespürt, wie viel wert den einzelnen alben noch zugeschrieben wurde. war ein schöner eskapismus aus dem heutigen schnelllebigen digitalen konsum

What could perhaps described as autobiographical music criticism. Anyone who knows me knows I frequently cite the often miss attributed quote "writing about music is like dancing about architecture" (Costello? Monk? Mingus? Kant?) so this book is kinda like that. Plus, Hornby frequently comes across as an old, liberal fart, especially in his descriptions of 21st century pop music and hip hop BUT HE KNOWS HES AN OLD LIBERAL FART AND HE REALLY LOVES Nelly Furtado so that sort of makes it OK doesn't it? Not really. I don't even know where to begin with that one.

Still, his passion for music made me pull out a couple CD's I'd bought out of guilt and/or curiousity and listen to then, only to realize I still didn't like them.

Reflexionen zu 31 Songs. Es ist nicht ganz klar, was diese 31 Songs wirklich bedeuten. Nach dem Vorwort denkt man, er wolle wirklich über die jeweiligen Lieder sprechen, aber er nimmt sie nur zum Anlass zu mehr oder weniger autobiographischen Anekdoten oder Grundsätzliches über Soli oder Vorurteile. Ist auch okay, aber ein bisschen Schwindel. In so einer Liste Suicides Frankie Teardrop zu finden, ist ja schon toll, aber was soll es, dass er das Stück 15 Jahre nicht gehört hat? Bei mir ist das auch drei, vier Jahre her, aber Grund, es wieder aufzulegen. Beneidenswerter Mann, der für sowas einen Verleger findet.

Nick Hornby ist passionierter Musikliebhaber und nimmt uns in diesem kleinen Büchlein mit in seinen ganz persönlichen musikalischen Kosmos, anhand von 31 ausgewählten Liedern.

Er erzählt Anekdoten aus seinem Leben, über große und kleine Momente, in denen die Musik eine Rolle gespielt hat, spricht von musikalischen Entdeckungen, Zeitgeistphänomenen und Sammelwut, von (Musik)Liebe auf den ersten Blick und Künstlern und Songs, die erst nach und nach ihre Wirkung entfaltet haben, aber auch über persönliche Höhen und Tiefen wie eine berührende Erkenntnis über seinen autistischen Sohn, die ihm beim Hören eines bestimmten Stücks aufgegangen ist.

Ziemlich aus dem Herzen spricht er mir mit seiner Ablehnung von Musik-Snobismus und der Ansicht, dass Bob Dylan zwar definitiv ein prägender Künstler war, aber dennoch auch ganz schön überschätzt wird.

Sehr gefreut hat mich, gleich zu Beginn des Buches einen meiner Lieblingssongs vorzufinden, nämlich "Thunder Road" von Bruce Springsteen. Ansonsten waren mir zwar nicht die meisten Interpreten, aber doch die meisten Stücke unbekannt. Daran merkt man dann doch, dass richtig gute Musik zwar generationsunabhängig gut ist, aber die musikalische Sozialisation stark von der Zeit abhängt, in der man aufwächst. Aber das eine oder andere werde ich mir sicher mal anhören, um zu schauen, ob ich zum gleichen Schluss komme wie Hornby selbst.

Wie meistens bei kurzen, eher episodenhaften Büchern hat mir beim Lesen ein wenig der Fluss gefehlt, was aber eher an mir als am Buch liegt. Man kann es sicher prima in kleinen Häppchen lesen und genießen, vielleicht wirkt es dann sogar noch besser.

An absolute blast to read. It had me rediscovering my love for old songs, finding love for new ones, and thinking about why they move me so much.

I thought this would be some kind of pretentious snobbery featuring lots of indie bands I'd never heard of. Okay, so it did feature lots of bands/musicians I've never heard of but mostly it reveals Hornby's incredible love for music. Of all kinds. And even if he doesn't like a particular genre, he doesn't 'diss' those who do.

(Reposting an old review)


A few pages into book brought me to the observation. It’s not the typical Nick Hornby piece. Don’t expect to find yourself in the psyche of some middle-aged guy coming to terms with his personal foibles and neuroses. The book is a collection of essays on selected songs that Hornby relates to certain moments in his life – his personal soundtrack so to speak.

Granted, the topic is boring or, at the very least, uninspiring. His song selection is quite esoteric. Only two of the songs and a third of the artists rang a bell. And what do I care about Nick Hornby’s life? I read books to amuse myself on their content, not to catch a glimpse of the author’s adolescence or religious beliefs.

Nevertheless, there’s one thing that I could not deny. Reading the book was sheer pleasure.

I guess that’s what makes a writer like Nick Hornby so popular. He can captivate his audience even with the most mundane topic at hand.

Somewhere in the book, Hornby refers to himself as a “prose stylist”. I consider him more of a “prose stylist extraordinaire”. It is not the idea he is communicating that piques my interest, but the manner through which he communicates them. I end up reading the book for the sake of reading, as if reading itself provided a satisfaction separate and distinct from the ideas Hornby wishes to convey. Next thing I know, anecdotes on Hornby’s first visit to America or his inspiration for a particular chapter of High Fidelity have become as enticing as a tall tale of witchcraft and wizardry.

It’s like going to a restaurant and, for one reason or another, choosing the fish over the steak, despite knowing that steak has more inherent taste and flavor. You expect to be moderately sated by a bland entrée that surprisingly outclasses even the finest of beef.

That’s what Hornby does. He evokes the sublime out of the ordinary. He is a literary master chef who magically seasons a flavorless main ingredient with a spice repertoire of wit, sarcasm and an uncanny use of metaphors.

In his review of the song So I’ll Run, Hornby himself cleverly discusses this dilemma of writing about the ordinary –

“ It’s all very well writing about elves and dragons and goddesses rising out of the ground and the rest of it – who couldn’t do that and make it colorful . . . But writing about pubs and struggling singer-songwriters – well, that’s hard work. Nothing happens. Nothing happens, and yet, somehow, I have to persuade you that something is happening somewhere in the hearts and minds of my characters, even though they’re just standing there drinking beer and making jokes . . . ”

In differentiating music and lyrics in another review, he says “music is such a pure form of self-expression, and lyrics, because they consist of words, are so impure, and songwriters . . . find that, even though they can produce both, words will always let you down. One half of [the] art is aspiring towards the condition of the other half, and that must be weird, to feel so divinely inspired and so fallibly human, all at the same time. Maybe it’s only songwriters who have ever had any inkling of what Jesus felt of a bad day.”

See what I mean.

Hence, after going through the entire book once and selected chapters several times, I still find myself lifting the book from my shelf and revisiting a chapter or two – for the sake of sheer hedonism.