Listen to This

I had to read this for a college level music class. I was skeptical about reading the title, but the book is amazing. Considering music is a very important part of my life, I look at all music differently from the material Alex discusses in this book. I'd recommend this book to anyone who likes to creatively look at all sides of music. Trust me when I say its worth the read.

He had me at "national bombast, materialistic excess, and cultural bizarrerie"- with thoughts as well-formulated as that it will be a book I will look forward to reading; his thoughts transcend music- I just saw a 'thought-provoking' section at Barnes and Nobel, and this book should be placed front and center... He does lament the state of classical music in his preface- which may be a bit dated, or he hasn't been facing East considering what has been uploaded on Youtube recently (quite a direct social barometer)- it is plain to see (literally) that the Classical Baton has been passed from West to East- it has been taken up wholeheartedly and with a youthful, energetic, innocent enthusiasm never realized in the West- it is treated more like pop culture there (sans the gratuitous themes of decadence and death plaguing the West). I'm sure one of his purposes must be to bring relevance to classical music again, and to do that he had to explore the music that is currently relevant. He has a monumental task, for higher art in the West seems to be mired in glossy photos, receptions, and résumés, losing touch with the basic forces of (and fundamental reasons for) art, being more about the artist turning his back on the audience, and the audience is supposed to like it? Just what is going through the narcissistic minds of Western performers/composers these days? I'd say it verges on artistic cluelessness, and I am saying that angrily. He says today's composers hail from China, Estonia, Argentina, and Queens- as far as artistic relevance is concerned I would take that to a much further extreme... Like I said, thought-provoking, and I'll add stirring...

I bought this book to assign chapters to students for an introductory Music 101 class. Many of the chapters -- especially 1 and 3 -- are excellent for a course of this kind. Writings by Alex Ross are intellectual enough to be rigorous for a college course (or an intelligent lay-reader), but accessible enough that students/readers are never confused by musical jargon. That said, for those who want to read the book from beginning to end, it's not cohesive like "The Rest is Noise" -- just a scattered collection of New Yorker pieces.

Had I not read the author's "The Rest is Noise" before reading "Listen to This", I would probably have enjoyed "Listen" more and might given it four stars. But that's the problem with being the pretty good younger sibling of a dazzling first child: nobody judges you on your own merits. "Noise" is one of the few books that have really taught me a lot: it's also a beautifully written book, pulling the reader along without the effort usually entailed in learning a lot. "Listen" isn't in the same league as "Noise". Now, before going further, I should say that it clearly was not intended to be. "Listen to This", as Ross says, "combines various New Yorker articles, several of them substantially revised, with one long piece written for the occasion." The articles cover a wide range of musical topics, ranging in time from the Renaissance to yesterday, and in genre from the most popular to the most intellectualized. There is little structural linkage between one article and another, and it probably doesn't matter much if you read them out of order. The articles are well worth reading, though some (not surprisingly) are on topics of more interest to this reader than others. But that is good feature in this sort of miscellany. Reading something about a musician or composer in whom the reader has absolutely no interest could (and in this case did) spark some interest, leading to a listen to one of the works in question, and to a broadening of horizons. The first essay is of particular interest. It traces a pair of musical figures through the whole history of "western" music. It is also demanding, whereas some of the other essays are the non-fiction equivalent of easy listening. As usual, Ross's writing is a delight; clear, supple, and unusually successful in conveying something about music (so much writing about music brings to mind the quote about dancing about architecture) Also, thanks and cheers for his website [...] where you can listen to the music he discusses in the book. In sum, this is a pleasant and perceptive collection of essays by a music critic who is always worth reading. Let's hope that something more major is waiting in the wings.

This book so far has been a great read. Once again Alex Ross takes the reader beyond the music and words and bring us to a new level of understanding about music, he really opens us to many different generas of music that i have not listen to until reading this book. recommend reading, for music majors and for anyone that loves music

If you love music, worth reading.

This was a present for a friend who likes it. Alex Ross writes like a dream! I may order one for myself some time down the road.

Alex Ross is a fine writer on all areas of serious music and it's performance. He writes with authority with out being a know it all.

Magnifique livre où l'auteur d'une très grand érudition, nous parle sans pesanteur ni pédanterie, de toute la Musique qu'il aime.

If there is an underlying theme in this beautiful book this is the unity of music, classical and popular. The distinction between classical music as 'high art' and popular music as 'low art' is false. As Berg once aptly remarked to Gershwin, music is music. The author in providing an insight into the music of the Finn song-writer and singer Bjiork is simultaneously expressing criticism to both classical and popular musicians but also possibly expressing an ideal:'music is restored to its original bliss, free both of the fear of pretension that limits popular music and of the fear of vulgarity that limits classical music. The creative artist once more moves along an unbroken continuum, from folk to art and back again.' The elements that comprise the book's fascination are the erudition of the author -music critic for the New Yorker - his unbound love for the subject, his charisma in writing exemplified in the compelling narrative and the unimpeded flow of the prose, his personal interaction with the living musicians presented in the text and his uncanny ability to sketch the personalities of musicians - live and dead - appearing in the book and to provide a profound insight into the character and characteristics of their music. The book organized in three parts combines revised New Yorker articles, with one long piece written for the occasion. The first part comprise three aerial surveys of the musical landscape, encompassing both classical and pop terrain. The first chapter is a kind of memoir turned manifesto. The chapter 'Chacona, Lamento, Walking Blues' is the new thing - a whirlwind history of music told through two or three bass lines. 'Infernal Machines' brings together thoughts on the intersection of music and technology. The verdict is positive on Technology in that it democratizes music. The second part traces a dozen or so musicians living and dead:composers, conductors, pianists, string quartets, rock bands, singer-song writers, high-school band teachers. These essays generally excellent, some masterly are self-sufficient and consequently they can be read in any sequence and not necessarily in the order they appear in the book. The final part describes three radically different figures - Bob Dylan, Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, and Johannes Brahms who touch on things almost too deep for words. I found the essay on Dylan particularly fascinating and intriguing and possessing an elusive personality. Dylan is seldom talked in musical terms:his work is nalysed instead as poetry, wisdom or causing bafflement. Somehow I feel the urge to conclude the review with three Dylan songs of the several that appear in the text: William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll With a cane that he twirled round his diamond finger At a Baltimore society gathering. Me, I'm still on the road, heading for another joint We always did feel the same, we just saw from a different point Of view Tangled up in blue. A saxophone someplace far off played As she was walking on by the arcade As the light burst through a beat-up shade Where he was waking up She dropped a coin into the cup Of a blind man at the gate And forgot about a simple twist of fate.

I bought this book because I constantly go back to The Rest is Noise: Listening to the Twentieth Century for information and ideas about what to listen to next from the 20th century. Listen to This is as erudite and pleasant to read as the first book. I think this too will become a reference book for me as I listen to music from the fifteenth century to the 21st century. I highly recommend both books to music lovers.

Good product

Great book