Maybe, like me, you've loved albums deeply, desperately. They have been there for you, grown with you, named the unnameable. There are books who do the same, and then there is Hanif Abdurraqib, who is both. These are not just essays about music, or they are, but they reach into the social context of a song and an album and lay it bare. They are the music's subtext. We can only hope to be as open, as feeling.
— From Amanda's Authors to Watch (Holiday 2018)*2018 12 best books to give this holiday season --TODAY Show
*Best Books of 2018 --Rolling Stone
A Best Book of 2017 --NPR, Buzzfeed, Paste Magazine, Esquire, Chicago Tribune, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, CBC, Stereogum, National Post, Entropy, Heavy, Book Riot, Chicago Review of Books, The Los Angeles Review, Michigan Daily
*American Booksellers Association (ABA) 'December 2017 Indie Next List Great Reads'
*Midwest Indie Bestseller
In an age of confusion, fear, and loss, Hanif Abdurraqib's is a voice that matters. Whether he's attending a Bruce Springsteen concert the day after visiting Michael Brown's grave, or discussing public displays of affection at a Carly Rae Jepsen show, he writes with a poignancy and magnetism that resonates profoundly.
In the wake of the nightclub attacks in Paris, he recalls how he sought refuge as a teenager in music, at shows, and wonders whether the next generation of young Muslims will not be afforded that opportunity now. While discussing the everyday threat to the lives of black Americans, Abdurraqib recounts the first time he was ordered to the ground by police officers: for attempting to enter his own car.
In essays that have been published by the New York Times, MTV, and Pitchfork, among others--along with original, previously unreleased essays--Abdurraqib uses music and culture as a lens through which to view our world, so that we might better understand ourselves, and in so doing proves himself a bellwether for our times.
Funny, painful, precise, desperate, and loving throughout. Not a day has sounded the same since I read him. --Greil Marcus, Village Voice