 | By Cornelia Channing Editorial Assistant, Sunday Opinion |
Not all celebrity memoirs are made equal. There are great ones, of course, but too many read like long-form news releases.
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So this summer, when I received a copy of Jeff Tweedy's new book "World Within a Song: The Music That Changed My Life That Changed My Music," I cracked it open with a certain amount of wariness, unsure what to expect. |
Tweedy, the frontman for the alt-rock band Wilco, is a legend in some circles, and his memoir, it turns out, is one of the great ones. Thoughtful and full of gritty humor, each chapter in the slim book sees him riffing on a different song, what it means to him and how it relates to his own music. Woven throughout are musings, reflections and anecdotes from his career. |
I tore through it and jumped at the chance to work with him on an excerpt. In the resulting guest essay, published last week, Tweedy reflects on his youthful dislike of the Swedish pop band Abba and, in particular, its 1976 hit "Dancing Queen." |
"As a kid who liked punk rock," writes Tweedy, "this tune was situated deep in enemy territory, at the intersection of pop and disco." And for that reason, Tweedy reflects, he never gave the music a chance. Only later in life did he realize how "colossally wrong" he had been. "Looking back," he writes, "the weirdest part is that I ever felt I had to hate something so clearly irresistible." |
Many of us, I think, have experienced some version of this. For me, it is — I am ashamed to say — Sinead O'Connor, whose music, until recently, I had never really paid attention to. |
Of course, I had heard "Nothing Compares 2 U" (I don't think it's possible to be a conscious English-speaking adult and not know that song), but I was probably more familiar with Prince's version than with hers. And to be honest, I found it sort of annoying and over the top. Desperate. Whiny, even. Like something tailor made to be belted by drunken karaoke singers. |
Wow, was I wrong. So, so wrong. |
After reading news of O'Connor's death in July, I revisited "Nothing Compares 2 U" from a more thoughtful place and found it haunting. For days, I listened to it on repeat. The very things that had once bothered me about it — its melodrama — are, I now see, what makes it so good. How had I not seen that before? |
In the months since, I have listened through the rest of O'Connor's discography, reveling in its surprises and strange delights. It is astonishing to me that I went nearly 27 years without appreciating her genius, and I relate deeply to Tweedy's line "I mourn every single moment I missed loving this song." |
Both O'Connor's music and Tweedy's essay make me excited to be alive, because both offer the promise that a great bounty of artistic genius and sensory enjoyment exists all around us, if only we'd get over ourselves and pay attention. |
Tweedy writes, "I try to never listen to music now without first examining my own mind and politely asking whatever blind spots I'm afflicted with to move aside." And even then, if he thinks he doesn't like something, he makes "a mental note to try it again in 10 years." |
May we all aspire to listen with such generosity. It's a lofty aspiration. |
But if nothing else, I hope Tweedy's essay will inspire you — as it did me — to go home, pour a glass of something, turn the lights down low and listen to "Dancing Queen" at the maximum responsible volume. You won't regret it. |
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