Go Ahead in the Rain: Notes to A Tribe Called Quest by Hanif Abdurraqib

5/5 stars

What's it about? A heritage, a celebration, and an elegy delivered with Abdurraqib’s romance and ruin. No one writes culture quite like Hanif, and his honoring of A Tribe Called Quest is a sweet masterpiece.

How’d I find it? Hanif is one of our finest writers, so I want to read whatever he’s putting out.

Who will enjoy this book? Sure, this book will speak to hip-hop listeners, but it’s also for the MTV generation for whom music was a lens for America.

What stood out? Smart, generous, and nostalgic, the essays of Go Ahead in the Rain chart the rise and fall of A Tribe Called Quest within the legacy of Black art. Abdurraqib weaves in his own coming-of-age vignettes as a kid in Columbus who used music as a foothold. The book is gorgeously written, especially the chapter “Lament,” written in the form of letters to Q-Tip, Phife, and Ali Shaheed Muhammad.

Which line made me feel something? It’s hard to pick just one in a book so excellent, but I’ll settle on the following: “Which is why the sample is a joy, isn’t it? The wind blows a memory of someone into a room through sound, and the architect captures that memory with their bare hands and puts it on wax.”

They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us by Hanif Abdurraqib

4/5 stars

What's it about? In this collection of essays, Hanif Abdurraqib examines how music and performance influence and are influenced by culture, race, and coming-of-age experiences, an opportunity for reflections on the author’s own upbringing in Columbus, Ohio. Probing, eloquent, and personally generous.

How’d I find it? Ever since I read this poem by Abdurraqib, I’ve been collecting everything he puts out. This copy was purchased at Solid State Books.

Who will enjoy this book? Fans of Jia Tolentino’s Trick Mirror, Hilton Als’ White Girls, and Roxane Gay’s writing should like They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us.

What stood out? Abdurraqib hinges his social meditations on a variety of artists —Chance the Rapper, Carly Rae Jepsen, and Fall Out Boy, to name a few —that allows him to scan an impressive breadth of subject matter, and he meets the challenge handsomely in beautifully crafted and passionate pieces. Abdurraqib’s mastery as a poet can be both a blessing and a curse in a dense book of short essays like this; his stylistic flourishes get sometimes tired during a longer reading session.

Which line made me feel something? “If you believe that it rained in Ohio on the night Allen Iverson hit Michael Jordan with a mean crossover, you will also believe that I know this by the sound that lingered in the air after my small cheering, the way rain can sometimes sound like an echo of applause if it hits a roof hard enough. You will also believe that I know this by the way an unexpected puddle can slow down a basketball’s dribble on blacktop, especially if the basketball is losing some of its traction, some of the grip that it had in its younger days.”

Wagnerism: Art and Politics in the Shadow of Music by Alex Ross

4/5 stars

What's it about? A thorough deep dive into the art of German composer Richard Wagner and the ripple effects of his life and work in culture, politics, and society. Alex Ross has undertaken a mammoth cataloging that impresses and engages.

How’d I find it? Pure kismet while browsing at East City Bookshop. There’s nothing I love more than finding a book I’d never heard of.

Who will enjoy this book? This tome isn't for slouches, so fans of classical music and Wagnerites would be the best suited to enjoy.

What stood out? Ross cleverly arranges this book, grouping themes into chapters (occult Wagnerism, for example) titled according to some aspect of a Wagner opera. I found this an approachable entry point into the density of the subject. Despite the comprehensive index and frequent mention of works with only peripheral or assumptive links to the composer, I was surprised the following didn't make the cut for Ross's analysis (as I wanted to hear his thoughts!): the Irish series Love/Hate, in which Luke kills a swan à la Parsifal, and Lars von Trier's 2011 film Melancholia, which showcases the prelude to Tristan and Isolde.

Which line made me feel something? "Wagner's misogyny, like his racism, can dissipate in the face of an unexplained force that erases distinctions and brings about transcendent unity. This force was music itself - the uncontrollable factor that foils any attempt to sum up what Wagner means, or, indeed, who he was."