Being a big fan of Wilco and Tweedy’s work with Mavis Staples I was really looking forward  to diving into this book. After the introductions I see that chapter one is dedicated to  “Smoke On The Water” by Deep Purple. So far so good. But then I start reading and I am  crushed realizing that Tweedy does not dig on the song or its MONOLITHIC riff. A riff so  heavy you need a forklift to change the record to side two. He goes on to call the riff  “dunderheaded” and I was about ready to trade my Wilco collection for an original piece of  vinyl by Blue Cheer or Rock’s own muscleman Thor. 

In the second chapter the subject of Leo Sayer rears its head. Most music people who have  vague memories of Sayer and his two US hits find him an easy target for ridicule without  realizing that his debut record Silverbird is held in high regard by serious music fans and  collectors. I’m almost sure Jello Biafra has a pristine copy in his collection. Tweedy  mentions none of this but instead goes on to mention the song’s “mild toxicity” and how  hearing the song made him uncomfortable.  

I was kind of not digging the smarminess and ready to put the book down but kept going.  And then I realized something as I went on and Tweedy’s motivations for the book became  obvious. This isn’t a book about music history for musicologists like me. This is a book for  people with deep and meaningful memories (pleasant or unpleasant) of hearing songs on  the radio back when radio meant something like me. Not only hearing songs on the radio.  Tweedy recalls many instances of hearing songs here and there. One of my favorite bits in  the book is Tweedy reminiscing about staying up late to watch The Cars on The Midnight  Special (with special guests Suicide!) and the high he got watching his Mother completely  relating to Lene Lovich singing “Lucky Number”. 

Also Tweedy is no one trick pony as far as his ears. Hearing Wilco I can’t really imagine  Tweedy sitting in his living room with a killing scowl on his face listening to Suicide’s  “Frankie Teardrop”. But he includes the song in the book and also gives praise to The  Minutemen, Randy Newman, Grandmaster Flash And The Furious Five, Television, Otis  Redding and many more. He also explains his reasons for not liking certain songs like the  above-mentioned Deep Purple masterpiece but also reserves some vitriol for “I Will Always  Love You”. In between we get random little anecdotes involving music including  troublesome coach drivers, a song that puts a bit too much perspective on his wedding day  and lots more. His writing is funny, warm, touching and sometimes mildly toxic. This is a  book about music and how it can affect you in ways far beyond being pleasing to the ear.