This book inspires me to discover and get inspired by good music (again).

Now I need to skim it again from cover to cover while looking up every single song I don't know on YouTube.

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.

A couple of times a year I make myself a tape to play in the car, a tape full of all the new songs I've loved over the previous few months, and every time I finish one I can't believe they'll be another. Yet there always is, and I can't wait for the next one; you need only a few hundred more things like that, and you've got a life worth living.

I love Nick Hornby. I love his voice. And I love that he's so neurotically obsessive about the things that he loves.

Here he dissects 31 of his favorite songs. I have a hard time believing that these are his actual favorite 31 songs. I felt like they were 31 good lead-ins to 31 essays, in a way. He had some points to make about music, and these particular songs, or artists helped to illustrate them.

I was most intrigued by the song "notes." I looked up each one on You Tube so that I could hear them as I read. He listed pretty specific details on some, and it was fun to catch on to what he was talking about. I was introduced to some songs and artists I'd never heard. Some struck a chord with me, some didn't. I made a list of some I'd like to hear again. (OK music freaks, I know you want specifics...how about Rufus Wainwright doing "One Man Guy"...or "Caravan" by Van Morrison?)

Hornby here writes like a magazine music critic. He likes to explain the "why" behind a song. He reminds me of a Biology professor, carefully dissecting a frog. There's a nerd, and a poet within him.

Only three stars because there were some uninteresting parts (did I really need a whole essay about why Los Lobos makes a good boxed set, but not Stevie Nicks? Aren't boxed sets already dated anyway, in this day of digital downloads?) But there were some highs, too, including Hornby devoting an essay to the musical interests of his autistic son--a very tender moment. Love you, Nick! You can make me a mix anyday.

Nick Hornby, autor de “Alta Fidelidad” y “About a Boy” escribe un libro sobre el impacto que han tenido 31 canciones en su vida. No siempre son recuerdos, ni cómo estas canciones afectaron como banda sonora de sus días, sino que usa cada una como una excusa para reflexionar distintos aspectos de la música en nuestras vidas. Desde recitales remotos y extraños que nos llegan al alma sin haberlo esperado, la magia de las bandas que hacen cut-up (música a partir de música existente), que se enfrenta a los prejuicios contra el Pop o la música country.  Hornby, cuya obra está atravesada por la música, escribe un libro que sirve para zambullirse en un mar de música nueva, vista a través de la lupa de un tipo que sabe.

De forma entretenida y humana, nos pone en contacto con artistas por un camino de vivencias muy bajadas a tierra, muy humanas. Conectando la música de “Badly Drawn Boy” (Que hizo la música de su película “About a Boy”) con su hijo autista o la escalofriante “Franky Teardrop” de Suicide con la necesidad de usar la música como método de escape de un mundo cruel y salvaje, Hornby expande nuestras fronteras musicales y lo hace de forma tan humilde y entendida que no se puede dejar de lado.

Hay una playlist en Spotify dónde estan reunidas muchas (no todas) las canciones del libro, así que les dejo el link:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1r4...

I actually like a number of the songs Hornby highlights in his book about the influence of pop music on his life--but I should never have listened to the accompanying CD, which I found to be mostly dreadful. It definitely colored my reading of the book.

I like Rufus Wainwright, but "One Man Guy" is far from his best song. The only other song that seemed worthy of the book was Ani DiFranco's "You Had Time".

The writing itself covers a much broader canvas, and even if you aren't that familiar with, or don't like, some of Hornby's greatest hits, you can appreciate the connections he makes between age, life events and experience, and the way music can keep you company while soothing and supporting. Hornby can be a bit overbearing with his particular approvals and dismissals, and has an aura of superiority about his taste which can annoy--but still, the book is entertaining and got me thinking, even if I was just arguing with him in my head.

The best chapter for me was "Gregory Isaacs--Puff the Magic Dragon", where he talks about his autistic son and how music anchors him in the world as a wordless but completely understandably method of interaction and communication.

"That's why I love the relationship with music he has already, because it's how I know he has something in him that he wants others to articulate....It's the best part of us, probably, the richest and strangest part, and Danny's got it too, of course he has; you could argue that he's simply dispensed with all the earthbound, rubbishy bits."

Music is magic, no argument there at all.

The chapter about Led Zep's Heartbreaker struck a particular chord with me in that it describes exactly my journey from believing that if it wasn't 'heavy' then it didn't matter to the point where I'll now listen to virtually anything and find something to appreciate in it, so it's nice to know that I'm not the only one to realise how daft I'd been.

While not being familiar with most of the songs included I understand the way they've made their way beneath Nick's skin and taken root there. This is how it works when a song seems perfect for a particular time or experience or sensation and his feelings of connection with certain songs at certain times will ring a bell with many people.

At no point are we told that we ought to feel the same way as Nick toward these tracks and that might just be the book's main strength. It waxes lyrical but without preaching and makes for a pleasant, easy read that you might go through in one long sitting.

If the author has tempted you to listen to the titles mentioned or inspired you to go back to rediscover the dusty, furthest recesses of your collection then that'll probably do for him.

Now, go and find you own 31 Songs.

If you find the idea of locating a through line in an author's work, I suggest you give Nick Hornby a shot. Whether writing a novel like High Fidelity or a series of personal essays about pop music, as he does here in Songbook, at all times he is channeling a sort of middle class Brit aesthetic that I think of as "benign mix tape." I find it charming.

I’m in the middle of reading Wolf Hall and thought tonight to interrupt my reading with this little gem from Nick Hornby. I had borrowed it months ago from a friend and they want to lend it to their nephew. 31 songs is insightful. In a sense we all could produce a list of songs, not necessarily 31, that have moved us in some way. Not that it was the song we first danced with a loved one or the song that reminds us of a certain holiday. More a song that spoke to us at a certain point in our life. This book also allows us to eavesdrop on some of his life and who inspired him to find his writing voice. Of course there are also some laugh out loud moments. I chuckled when I read, 'Rubbishing our children's tastes is one of the few pleasures remaining to us as we become old, redundant and culturally marginalised.'

All in all a good read, a quick read, and now it’s back to the court of King Henry VIII and wondering what TC will do next.

Songbook was going to be (I thought) my introduction to Nick Hornby. Hornby is, of course, the author of High Fidelity and About a Boy. I was looking forward to seeing Hornby's legendary mordant wit on display. To a certain extent that actually happened in Songbook, which is a collection of essays on music, specifically the music the author loves most-pop music. I cannot disparage the subject matter, but the book itself became a painful slog I only finished through sheer stubbornness. I quit even trying to listen to the author's musical choices after the first few essays. I am not sure what precipitated this reaction-maybe we like the same music but different songs, Mr. Hornby.

Witty and honest, as Nick Hornby usually is. There were a few phrases and descriptors that made me uncomfy. Surprisingly, the fact that I was not familiar with much of the music he reviews didn’t take away from the experience. It’s like a little time capsule from 2003.

I can’t do a better job of summarizing this than that New York Times blurb on the cover. What a pleasure, as always, to spend time with Nick Hornby, one of my author gods. I envy his talent, but I love him even more than I envy him. These essays were all so good, and they reminded me that I need to make an effort to listen to music more. Ever since the proliferation of podcasts and my embrace of audiobooks, my music consumption has declined, and it is very much to my detriment. When I think to listen to music in the car or while I’m cooking, I love it. It’s just making the choice to do so. I need to be like my friends Jared and Mike and carve out regular chunks of time where listening to music is the thing that I am doing, not something I multitask with other things.

Om man gillar Hornby och popmusik så är den här boken som en längre lättsam och kreativ pratstund efter en dekadent pizzalunch med två stora öl på ett sunkhak

Ofta välformulerat och inspirerande. Läsvärd.