Rob SheffieldBesprekingen

my favorite book in a while. I love the way he writes. Quick, awesome read. Easy to relate to.

Subtitled “The Love Story of One Band and the Whole World” I was expecting this to provide insights into the Fab Four’s cross-cultural international appeal.

It isn’t that. In fact it’s the exact opposite in that it’s a personal reflection of one individual’s relationship with The Beatles and their music.

Rolling Stone writer and music critic Rob Sheffield uses Beatle songs, albums, and Beatles moments as springboards for a series of stream of conciseness essays that come together to provide a loose history of the band and its ongoing legacy. As a personal account Sheffield makes several remarks that you may not agree with (he clearly does not like Paul), as well as some insightful observations that will get you nodding your head.

The style is very conversational and flows well. It was almost a single sitting read for me (my flight home needed to be just 30 minutes longer).

Perhaps the best summary of this book comes it’s final chapter “The Beatles story keeps taking new turns on the personal level as well as the public one.”

This is a terrific book from music writer Rob Sheffield. He approaches Bowie's career as a fan, not as a critic. For those of us who admired and loved Bowie's music, but might not have been aficionados of his every musical and cultural nuance, this book hits the sweet spot. It never dives into minutiae or feels heavy handed. It's like coffee with a Bowie fan who wants to share a fair assessment of his hits and misses, his humanity and his struggles.

The book, chaptered by albums and eras, takes us from his early days as David Jones to his passing in 2016 and the luminous "Lazarus" that capped off his career. I'd recommend it to anyone who is looking for an introduction to Bowie, or a high-level appreciation of his life and artistry. If you know the lyrics and session players for every album from "Low" to "Never Let Me Down", this might be a deep enough dive for you, but you'll appreciate Sheffield's honesty, respect, and awareness of Bowie and his impact on our culture.

I suppose it's nostalgia. Or maybe it's the fact that my son will never possess a mix tape the way technology is changing the way we listen to music – as I type this, I'm currently using my Pandora One account. Whatever the reason, however, there's something that tugs on the heartstrings between the lines of Rob Sheffield's writing.

Much like Sheffield, I spent the better part of my youth making mix tapes. Mix tapes for the girls I had crushes on. Mix tapes for my friends. Mix tapes for people I was getting to know. Mix tapes for my friends' sexual activities. Mix tapes to play while I was writing bad poetry and shitty short stories. Christmas jams 1999. Summer of Love '97. Songs to Kill Yourself To. Songs to be Reborn To. Life's soundtrack on tiny spools of magnetic tape. When CDRs came about, I segued in that direction. The latest shared playlists I made were on Second Life, back when I DJ'ed as Blaspheme Baxton. Nothing, however, can amount to the sweat and blood poured into the mix cassette tape.

And every mix tape tells a story, or part of one. It maps the path of good times and bad ones. It shows us that everything has its time, everything will pass. And isn't that what Sheffield is telling us? Each song brings him closer to his wife, while aiding him through the world without her.

One can only wish to possess Sheffield's musical insights, and his ability to write about experiences so beautifully. If not for responsibilities, I would have allowed the book to suck me in and not resurface until it was finished with me. If you haven't read it, I suggest you put down that current bestseller and pick up a copy of this baby.

A humorous and touching memoir centered around the author's dual relationship with music and his deceased wife as told via mixtape track listings and the stories/times they dredge back up for him. The only thing that could make this book better would be to somehow include (or make available via website) the mixtapes referenced. Makes me want to dig back into the songs of my high school years or the gems I might have missed from that era or earlier.

This is not a meticulously researched music biography. It’s Sheffield’s response to being asked to write a book in a month in the wake of Bowie’s death. I like the way Sheffield thinks and writes, even if I don’t agree with his interpretations a lot of the time, and he’s funny. Reading this book was like talking to a friend and fellow fan, discussing different Bowie TV interviews and other ephemera, which is a feeling I really enjoy in these isolated times.

I laughed, I cried. This book was a real tonic for me. (Results not guaranteed for you.)

I loved Rob Sheffield’s previous memoir, Love Is a Mix Tape, which was all about his first wife and all the mix tapes they made and her death. This one starts right where the last one left off. Love Is A Mix Tape had a very low-key style and comic touch that made it seem fluffy and lightweight even though it was about being widowed (widowered?), but then it haunted me (in a good way) and I ended up re-reading it a couple times. So this time I was prepared for Turn Around Bright Eyes to be kind of a sleeper! I feel like these are both books it’s easy to underrate, precisely because they’re charming.

The topic of the book is karaoke and how it helped the writer get in touch with his feelings, creativity, and true nature. This was funny for me because my girlfriend just did this project about how playing the drums helped her get in touch with her feelings, creativity, and true nature, so it seemed strangely familiar. If you think karaoke is a thin topic for a book, you’re right, but it is really just a jumping off point. So there’s also a lot of other stuff in the book that’s just tangentially related but interesting, like about his father or how he learned to not hate the band Rush. I identified with the writer because I also can’t sing. He explains it, “I have loved music all my life and as they say you always hurt the one you love.”

Actually, I’m going to let the writer explain what this book is really about: “The happy chapter of my life was over, and the world had run out of surprises. But it turned out my life was just beginning.” “There’s no future without tears. Are you really setting your hopes on not getting hurt at all? You think that’s an option?” “When you chew your way out a steel trap, you don’t return for a receipt.” “Nobody knows if your present mood is just your present mood—-maybe it’s not a mood, maybe it won’t end.” “Once again, I get scared of overdoing, and then end up finding out overdoing is the only thing to do.” “I was lucky to get a second chance. I thought I was too late, but it turns out I was just in time.” “At any moment, a song can come out of nowhere to shake you up, jump-start your emotions, ruin your life.” There, that’s clear, right?

My favorite chapters were:
-Chapter 3, Sing Your Life, because he lays out the whole point of the book in it.
-Chapter 4, Work It, which has a great description of Greenpoint, Brooklyn where the writer lived on Eckford Street, because I lived there for six years. Also sometime later he talks about Foodswings. Yay, best vegan food in the borough!
-Chapter 7, Crazy In Love, which was about microphones. Because he runs down who looks good with a mic, talks about the first time he ever saw the thing where the singer turns the mic into the crowd (it was Joe Strummer from the Clash); just fun stuff.
-Chapter 8, Rebel Yell, because it was about rock stars singing karaoke. It made me think of a picture I recently saw of the guy from Sparks singing his own hit song at karaoke in Japan, and a part in David Byrne’s Bicycle Diaries where he’s in Manila and someone tries to get him to sing Burning Down The House at karaoke but he’s taken aback and won’t do it.
-Chapter 13, Rock and Roll Fantasy, because it was about Sheffield taking part in an expensive fantasy rock band camp where he played the tambourine and it was alternately hilarious and heartbreaking. Also, whenever Sheffield meets a rock star, he overthinks it and decides to compliment them on their little-known song or band, which sometimes makes them happy but sometimes does not, and that was really funny. I get the strong impression that Rob Sheffield is a nice guy, not an asshole like rock journalists are supposed to be.
-Chapter 16, Debaser. Because this is where he meets his future second wife, an astrophysicist by day, college radio DJ by night. It’s very sweet. “I’m not sure how long it took for the Smiths to come up, but it was under two minutes.” He asks her what her favorite Pavement album is, and when she says Wowie Zowie, he decides he doesn’t have a chance with her because he’s a Slanted & Enchanted kind of guy. Then he’s eating dinner with her and some friends and they talk about the top 5 hottest guys in rock, and based on her answers I think I fancy her too.
-Chapter 26, Ziggy Stardust. Because, duh!
-My least favorite chapter was the one about Rod Stewart because: blech, do not like Rod Stewart.

I also found his depiction of NYC shortly after September 11 more true to life than anything I’ve ever seen in print. I guess that just means his perspective was more similar to my own than other stuff I read. Actually, because the book is not chronological, he started by just saying that he moved to Greenpoint from the Financial District in 2002, and I thought, “Oh great, he is not going to discuss September 11th at all, it’s just understood; how tasteful and humane of him.” But then he did later, however it was still tasteful and humane. I really liked his description of going to his first show downtown in a smelly venue after September 11. With me it was the Moldy Peaches at the Mercury Lounge in November 2001 and they vowed they were never going to play “New York City’s Like a Graveyard” again. (I wonder if they did or not?)

Lots of little things were very funny, like he stored cassette tapes in his oven, or how when he was a college librarian he kept secretly erasing the overdue fines (for a book named Sexual Unfolding) of a girl he had a crush on. Other times I wasn’t sure if he was kidding or not. Did Neil Diamond really have a conveyer belt that rotated him around the stage when he played at the Garden? Is life really that strange?

Where did I get this book: As soon as I learned of its existence, I put it on hold at the library. I was prepared to wait, even though there were a few people ahead of me and the book was still on order. But then, I was walking through Grand Central Terminal. . . and suddenly I could not resist. I walked into Posman Books as though pulled in by a tractor beam and walked straight up to the information desk. I did something I never do, the humiliating “I don’t remember the name of the book or the author’s name, but his other book is called. . .” thing. The clerk didn’t even have to look it up, he just smirked at me and pointed out how it was on the table right behind me. But why shouldn’t he have a little satisfaction in his life? I spent $28 on this book! I didn’t even use my one-time 20% discount because I always think I’ll need it more later. Anyway, it was worth every penny. Also just a PSA that bookstores still exist and you can in fact buy your books there.

Book design: The cover, whatever. But the interior is delightful! Each chapter heading has a drawing of a mic, and each one is different. The chapter headings all begin on the right side of the page, so if the previous chapter ends on a right-hand page, then the microphone cable is stringing all the way across the left-hand side of the page which is otherwise blank. (This will all make sense when you see it.) Very cool!

What other book is this like? It’s kind of the lite version of How Music Works by David Byrne.

Theme song: This is silly, when the whole book is itself a big playlist, but I’m going to say Destination Greenpoint by the Fleshtones.

Memoirs are dangerous and tricky things. They can be selfless and selfish at the same time, an expulsion of emotion and memory that you just needed to get out for your own sanity, while simultaneously inviting everyone through the door, basically begging them to ask for even more probing details than those laid out in the book. A common problem that arises in the development of a memoir is that you have to come off as someone interesting enough to read about, while still remaining human and humble enough that people don’t hate you for having an actual book written about your life. It’s an ambitious undertaking, but as Matthew Good points out so eloquently in his song 21st Century Living:

Ambition, ambition’s a tricky thing
It’s like riding a unicycle on a dental floss tightrope over a wilderness of razor blades (Matthew Good – Avalanche)

How much do you give of yourself before turning back from that line in the sand? How far do you walk away from the past to allow yourself to put it all down on paper, leaving others a breadcrumb path to wander back into those days gone by? Most importantly, how do you wrap it all up into a package interesting enough to make others want to ignore their own lives, step out of their shoes and walk a few hundred pages in yours? All of those questions and more plague the writer of a memoir, but now and again one finds the right combination, or in this case, the right mix, and everything flows in and out with the regularity and rhythm of the tides. It becomes relaxing and thoughtful, peaceful and terrifying, ever-changing yet always familiar. These are the ones that you read and somehow feel we all lived in our own way.

Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield is a musically charged farewell letter to a person we’ve all met at some point in our lives. The one who in normal circumstances we would never have the courage to talk to because the worlds were too far apart, but whether through cosmic destiny or the luck of the draw, that person enters your life and ignites the change you always knew would come. The book follows his relationship with his wife Renee and carves out each section in relation to a mix tape made during those cherished moments in history. This harmonic trip into Rob’s life also reminds us of the true power of music, the passion it can instill, the sorrow it can unfold and the memories it can unearth.

I saw this book a long time ago at the store and was instantly drawn to it because I was in the middle of writing my own memoir. My main reason for not reading it back then was I could already tell it was done well and something I would feverishly enjoy, but I didn’t want to consciously or subconsciously rip-off any of Rob’s devices, so I left it lying on the bookstore display table and hid it away on the shelf in the back of my mind. Years later, with my memoir wrapped up, destiny once again dropped this book in my path while trolling through Borders on the first day of their store closing sale (Everything Must Go!…and I want it all to go home with me.).

Any author of a memoir wants the reader to find something to identify with, one portion of their personality or circumstances that can draw the reader that much farther into their world. While I do enjoy my iPod injected rides to work in the morning, singing my way into the work day, hoping it will hold me through, I definitely do not identify with the level of knowledge or intensity Rob has for music (mine is more on the movie front). But as the pages turned and Rob begins to reveal his loss and how it was to walk through the fog of those weeks and months, the words spoke in an entirely new level of honesty and bravery. Anyone who has come through to the other side of a terrible tragedy will find portions of his story incredibly reminiscent of their own, although probably put in more colorful language and set to a better soundtrack. Even those who might still be lost in the fog of sorrow would benefit from this tiny playlist of memories, almost an attempt at one person’s “Guide to Life after Life”. Die hard music fans, especially those who grew up in the angsty revolution of the 90′s, will constantly chuckle with recognition at each song listed out on the mix tape covers, but even those less musically inclined will find their heartstrings played beautifully by this story of rambunctious love and loss.

My recommendation, read Love is a Mix Tape to remind yourself there is music in everything, pleasure and pain, and to never tune it out.

p.s. Favorite line: “We were just a couple of fallen angels, rolling the dice of our lives.”

Pretty good. Really soars during the "courtship of his wife" section.

At times, this memoir hits all the right notes. He repeats himself, some of the jokes miss their mark, and it doesn't pack near the emotional punch as Love is a Mix Tape.

This book wasn't really my cup of tea, but I gave it to a friend and she loved it!

Although this book is a biography and memoir by genre, it could easily fit onto the shelf with Nick Hornby’s “High Fidelity,” “Nick and Norah’s Infinite Adventure,” and other favourite fiction of music lovers and awkward teens. Sheffield, who also wrote “Love is a Mix Tape,” is one of those down-to-earth, conversational writers who happens to know A LOT about music. And fortunately for us, he decided to write a second book — this one focusing on music of the eighties and why every girl then seemed to have a crush on the bassist of Duran Duran.

Each chapter is titled with a song, “some of my favorite ’80s relic songs that warped my brain with dubious ideas, boneheaded goals, laughable hopes, and timeless mysteries,” ranging from the Rolling Stones and David Bowie to Bonnie Tyler and Madonna; the stories in each chapter usually have something, somehow, to do with the song. Rob’s sisters, Tracey, Ann, and Caroline each make frequent appearances, usually helping Rob interpret some foreign action or habit of the female, such as their odd propensity for having toilet paper on the “the little rolling thing” instead of on the sink counter. Some of the lessons Rob learns are laughable, such as boyfriend lessons from Ray Parker Jr.’s “A Woman Needs Love,” and the fact that “rock epics are for boys; pop hits are for girls;” and some are mildly profound: “I Want the One I Can’t Have and It’s Driving Me Mad: one hundred percent of teenagers dream about making out, but they only dream about making out with 5 percent of other teenagers. This means our dreams and our realities are barely on speaking terms, so we look forward to making out with people who aren’t real, keeping us in a nearly universal state of teen frustration. It screws us up for the rest of our lives, as we keep hoping for the unattainable.”

Sheffield has written a funny, readable, and highly entertaining memoir which will appeal to a wide range of people — those who have their own horror stories revolving around the ’80s, to those who just have teenage horror stories. Recommended.

I first found out about “Dreaming the Beatles” from a review I saw on Twitter. Even though I am just a casual Beatles fan (if that), I thought it sounded interesting. It turns out it was more than interesting – it was absolutely fascinating. Rob Sheffield uses many short chapters to give his personal perspective on why the Beatles are the greatest band ever, and why they are still relevant today. The chapters cover their whole career, and moves past the break up and into today.
Many of the stories may be well known to serious Beatles fans, but for me most of them were new. I found them completely fascinating, and it made me listen to their music again and made me want to learn more.
It isn’t only about the Beatles themselves. For example, one chapter covers 26 songs about the Beatles. Another covers the Beatles versus the Rolling Stones. While reading, it wrote down references to check up later – mostly songs and albums not by the Beatles. The whole front of the book was covered in sticky notes by the end.
The writing is great throughout, and often quite funny too. While reading it I found myself wishing it wouldn’t end. Really recommended for a great and interesting take on the Beatles.

It's never too late to let a song ruin your life.

My favorite chapter in this book is the one about Tone Loc's "Funky Cold Medina" and the short-lived phenomenon of cassette singles. I was chuckling the entire chapter (actually most of the book) because I could relate to it completely. Just like Rob Sheffield still has his cassette singles, I do as well. I can't part with them because they are a part of my youth. This is a fun book to read, especially if you grew up in the 80s.

This was a lovely surprise to me. I learned more about the Beatles than I ever knew, and learned about songs that I may have heard but never thought about. It deepened my love fr the Beatles though I was never a screamer. I understood more about the impact their music and they themselves had on all pop and rock music and the culture.

Excellent! Must-read for Beatles fans.

The Wild Heart of Stevie Nicks by Rob Sheffield and narrated by the author is a short book about Stevie's professional and personal life. Her bands, lovers, hits, ups, and downs. I couldn't believe it when he said she is 78! She just seems forever young! 😎
Great narration especially for an author.

2.75

When I was in Junior High and High School my dream was to write for Rolling Stone magazine. Reading this was a nostalgia trip that made me recall my youth, and where those dreams were born. I enjoyed the trip down 80's lane that Sheffield provided, but I wish he would have driven us a bit farther. The book only scratches the surface of a memoir and is often disjointed on delivery. Its, at times, more of a photo blurb than a full article. Still, it was enjoyable enough to almost garner a full 3 stars.

The Real "Daisy Jones & The Six"
Review of the Audible Studios audiobook (2019) narrated by the author

If you're of a certain age and became a fan of Fleetwood Mac when its self-monikered 1975 album and 1976's "Rumours" were released, then modern day pastiches like Taylor Jenkin Reid's "Daisy Jones & The Six" just pale in comparison to the real life equivalent. A light romanticized soap opera just doesn't come close to an almost 50-year love-hate feud (if you start counting from the early Buckingham Nicks high school years) that is Stevie Nicks, Lindsay Buckingham and the rest of Fleetwood Mac.

The timing of this quickie Audible Original seems suspiciously close to the release of Reid's book and not to anything else specific in Stevie Nick's career as there is no new music that I am aware of. Rob Sheffield is a Rolling Stone magazine writer and editor who has several books on popular music to his credit. He is also a life long fan of Stevie Nicks which is very apparent in the occasionally gushy hyperbole in this career overview. Still, he provides a warts and all overview that sticks to the highlight periods of the Mac years and the better Nicks solo albums. It is up to date enough to reference the current Mac 2018-19 tour after Lindsay Buckingham's firing and to mention the latter's open-heart surgery on Feb. 8, 2019 without having anything new on his health prognosis.

The audio narration by the author was well done. This is one of the Audible Originals free offerings to its members for May 2019.

A heartbreaking love letter to Sheffield's dead wife. Lovely and moving, even though most of the music references went over my head.

Absolutely heartbreaking! It made me pull out my tiny collection of mixtapes and fly back in time, tears still in my eyes. Tops.

A music writer ties snippets of his life to popular 80's music while trying to explain how each music style reflected the times. A cute premise that grew very tiresome very quickly!

It took me less than three days to finish Rob Sheffield's equivalent of a sophomore album - his second book, Talking to Girls About Duran Duran. I was a huge fan of his memoir, Love is a Mix Tape, so I had high hopes for this book too. Now I didn't live through the 80s, I'm not a Duran Duran fan, not Irish Catholic, and didn't recognize the majority of these songs by name, but I ripped through this book. I would get to the end of a chapter (each chapter title a different song) and think, "oh...just one more". This allowed me to finish the book in record time. Talking to Girls About Duran Duran is Sheffield reminiscing over old 80s tunes and 80s culture (especially new wave music). But of course it is so much more. It's more windows into Sheffield's life, a life I admittedly fell in love with upon reading Love is a Mix Tape. Each chapter recalls a different 80s tune and it's importance in his life. Although towards the end he talks more about his life and less about the music, I didn't care. This might turn some people off, but I find Sheffield's teenage self (who dominates the majority of the chapters) to be adorably shy, and his writing witty. Sheffield understands the grave importance music plays in our lives, how intertwined it is with everything we do. And he understands life, or at least understands its indeterminability, its subtle nuances. Talking to Girls About Duran Duran is sprinkled with insightful observations, "I was too young to know adult life is full of accidents and interrupted moments and empty beds you climb into and don't climb out of." His writing is fresh and surprising and I love it; with phrases like "glitter encrusted sex cookies" how could you not? He knows how to manipulate a story, making the reader care about his memories, like picking up garbage on the freeway or clipping his grandfather's toenails, because he can plant you right into his emotions, whisk you straight back to the 80s. I recommend this book to fans of Sheffield's work, the 80s, music, memories, and life in general. It was an enjoyable 269page trip through the decade that no one seems able to completely leave behind.

Once again, Sheffield's pop culture references are quite often beyond my comprehension. Enjoyable nonetheless.