novel Archives - tonefiend.com

Monday: Theory and Technique
Tuesday: Gear
Wednesday: Repairs and DIY
Thursday: Biography
Friday: Fiction

Thanks to all my smart and cool readers who contributed to the first (maybe annual?) Tonefiend Book Week! I loved chatting about some old favorite books, and getting exposed to so many cool new ones.

An encyclopedia of rad. — An encyclopedia of rad mods.

I have just two quick additions: the first concerns an exciting new acquaintance, and the other a sad departure.

In comments to Tuesday’s post on DIY and repair books, reader smgear mentioned Nice Noise, a book on prepared guitar by Bart Hopkin and Yuri Landman. I immediately ordered a copy, and received it the other day. I’m blown away. It’s a small-format book, a mere 72 pages, but it is a veritable encyclopedia of alternate guitar treatments.

Hopkin (he edited the journal Experimental Musical Instruments and wrote the fabulous alternate instrument books Gravikords, Whirlies & Pyrophones and Orbitones, Spoon Harps & Bellowphones) and Landman (he builds mutant guitars for Sonic Youth, Liars, Melt Banana, and other artists) discuss pretty much every avant-garde guitar mod I’ve ever heard of, and many besides. It’s not just a catalog — it’s a detailed how-to, meant to be consumed alongside the pair’s online audio library of musical examples. I’m sure you’ll be reading about it more here, because I’m definitely going inflict some of these rad alterations on some unwitting guitars.

One of the finest rock-and-roll novels. — A great rock-and-roll novel.

An a sadder note, the death of Scotland’s Iain Banks this weekend reminded me of a book that should have been inclued in Friday’s installment on musical fiction. Both funny and moving, his 1987 novel, Espedair Street, is simply one of the finest rock-and-roll novels ever. Its protagonist is a fabulously successful rock star (think Floyd or Fleetwood Mac in their prime) who must process his own past while grappling with the prospect of suicide.

Readers in the UK, where Banks is hugely popular, may be surprised to learn he’s strictly a cult figure in the States. While Espedair Street is his only work to focus on the music world, he wrote many fine novels marked by wry humor and vast empathy. (The Crow Road and Whit are two other favorites of mine.) He also wrote scads of science fiction under the name Iain M. Banks. Banks, 57, had only recently learned he was dying of cancer. In April he composed a final communique to his readers, writing:

I’ve asked my partner Adele if she will do me the honour of becoming my widow (sorry – but we find ghoulish humour helps). By the time this goes out we’ll be married and on a short honeymoon. We intend to spend however much quality time I have left seeing friends and relations and visiting places that have meant a lot to us.

Tonefiend Book Week 2013
Friday: Musical Fiction

Monday: Theory and Technique
Tuesday: Gear
Wednesday: Repairs and DIY
Thursday: Biography
Friday: Fiction

Tonefiend Book Week is simple: I discuss a few titles I’ve found particularly enlightening, useful, or entertaining, and then you jump in and do the same. I’ve organized the days of this week by subject matter. Today’s topic: musical fiction.

In comments to yesterday’s installment on musical autobiographies, several folks mentioned the Real Frank Zappa Book. Which reminds me of a quote often (and apparently incorrectly) attributed to Frank: “Writing about music is like dancing about architecture.”

Glimpses — A music fan rescues ’60s rock via time travel. (Not as dorky as I’m making it sound!)

The line probably originated in reference to music journalism, but it applies just as well to fiction about music. Countless novelists and screenwriters are ardent music lovers. Yet there aren’t many novels or films that capture the act of music creation — what’s it’s like to be a musician.

The problem isn’t a lack of passion for music. Leo Tolstoy, Thomas Mann, and Victor Hugo were knowledgable listeners who channeled the emotions they perceived in great music into equally great prose. But even among literary titans, depictions of the music-making process tend to be as bogus as that clichéd Hollywood montage: Composer paces room. Furiously crumbles aborted manuscript page. Howls at moon. And then — Eureka! — a Masterpiece is born. [CUT TO END OF CONCERT, STANDING OVATION.]

Writers seem to do better depicting the worlds that surround music. For example, Jennifer Egan’s 2011 novel A Visit from the Goon Squad includes scenes set in the old San Francisco punk scene, and she nails the vibe. Many fine younger writers — Egan, Dave Eggers, Jonathan Lethem — are obvious rock geeks who skillfully evoke the experience of music consumption. There are also memorable depictions of fandom, notably Nick Hornby’s 1996 novel High Fidelity. But few books attempt to provide glimpses into the musicianly mind. (Actually, I haven’t yet read Lethem’s You Don’t Love Me Yet, which is set in the indie rock scene. Have any of you? I sure love his Motherless Brooklyn and Fortress of Solitude.)

At worst, smart writers sound stupid when attempting to write knowingly of music creation. I dig most Salman Rushdie I’ve read, but man, his 2000 “rock” novel, The Ground Beneath Her Feet is a stinker. Rushdie attempts an alternate rock history via his signature South Asian magic realism, and the result isn’t fantastical — it’s bunk. Sorry, partying with members of U2 doesn’t automatically afford vast insight into the musicianly mind. Or at least that’s been my experience. 😉