Books like The Stardust Road — picked by fans

This jive-tongued jazz cat really knows how to use language! His use of slang is evidenced by the ten-page glossary at the end of the book. Raw and gritty, Mezzrow’s memoir describes how he learned to play jazz and blues in a juvenile reformatory, where he developed his love for the Black “race” and its culture. He often riffs on race. In 1920s Chicago he rubbed elbows with Black and White jazz luminaries, plus gangsters, prostitutes, and drug dealers. During a side trip to Paris, France, he spread the gospel of jazz to Europe. In the 30s he lived in New York City’s Harlem, inhabiting a milieu similar to that in Chicago, peddling marijuana to jazz greats and others. His extraordinary writing inspired Jack Kerouac and the Beat writers.

Rereading this book, with its rhapsodic descriptions of some of the first jazz recordings, rekindles the excitement I was feeling about the early 1920s when I began writing my trilogy and researching the era. Kennedy chronicles the early Black and White jazz artists from New Orleans, who transplanted to Chicago, and the young Midwesterners who took up the mania for jazz. His enthusiasm for, and his devotion to the early development of jazz is infectious.

I highly value Condon’s ability to describe the daily anxiety and desperation of the poor jazz musicians, who constantly struggled to find work and pay the rent. He does so with great good humor. He tells a good story and he’s got a million of them, including a few about gangsters, but mostly about the many great jazz musicians like Bix Beiderbecke, whom he worked with and knew well. His many terse stories prove that brevity is the soul of wit. His dialogue is worthy of Ben Hecht—he’s good at wisecracks. I was sorry when the book came to an end.

I have so many reasons why this is one of my all-time favorite books. Berton’s descriptions of music, specifically jazz or music in general, are superb. Ralph Berton describes himself as a precocious 13-year-old (an understatement!), when in 1924 he meets Bix Beiderbecke, seven years his senior, and idolizes him. This relationship is a great part of the book’s charm. The Berton family—with its vaudeville background, two famous musical brothers (besides the child genius Ralph), and a Jewish mother—is another part of the appeal. But the heart of the book is his affectionate, penetrating portrait of Bix, derived from personal experience. He examines the myths and legends, sometimes debunking and sometimes reinforcing them. A magical, bittersweet book that often brought me to tears. Exceptional writing.

Space Is the Place opened so many windows for me into a world of esoteric spirituality fused with mind-blowing musical and theatrical creativity. John Szwed was a member of my PhD dissertation committee, although it was pretty hard to track him down, and he was wrapping up this book as I finished my own. I’d seen Sun Ra at my college and thought of the Arkestra as a kind of spaced-out novelty act, not knowing anything about Ra’s history: his celestial epiphanies; his long immersion in big-band jazz, including his stint with the great Fletcher Henderson; the cadre of stellar musicians he recruited and molded for the Arkestra; his entrepreneurial streak. When I turned to the study of music and spirituality, Szwed’s biography became an indispensable source. Afrofuturism has become a very hot topic in contemporary cultural studies, and there’s no better way into its arcane mysteries than through this… show more.

Don’t let the (original) lengthy subtitle, with its nearly forty-year-old date reference, put you off; this is a deeply original and highly engaging account of the music and philosophy of one of America’s most prolific and consistently creative musicians: composer, improviser, educator and multi-instrumentalist Anthony Braxton. With a double narrative that deftly alternates between lofty discussions of subjects such as metaphysics, mysticism, language, and astrology, and the daily grind of a challenging twelve-date tour of England by a Braxton quartet in the winter of 1985, Forces in Motion cleverly captures much of the complexity, intelligence, ambition and humour of its uncompromising subject. At one point Lock describes Braxton as “an alchemist, a man who opens doors you didn’t know existed”; the same can be said of the book itself. A perfect marriage of musician and writer. 

Penrod reminded the composer of the many adventures he had as a young boy along with his friends in the early decades of the 20th century. 

McKay remembered when he helped the son of a doctor who was a boyhood friend as they made placebos for the doctor's practice out of bread and water in the basement of the doctor's home. He also recalled street fights with other boys that did not always turn out well for undersized kids but were considered sporting in those times in frontier towns.

This is the first substantial biography of Mozart, published in 1798.  It was written by a Czech author, Franz Niemetschek, who probably knew Mozart personally and who certainly attended musical events at which Mozart participated in Prague in 1787 and 1791. 

While its tone is hagiographical, it contains important insights on Mozartian aesthetics, as well as invaluable recollections of Mozart in action.    

I love this book because it shows how a musical icon discovered and developed his own personal style.

Juan García Esquivel had a passion for music but no formal training. Without knowing the typical ways of arranging notes, Esquivel was free to experiment–and that made his work so unique that anyone hearing his music knew right away that he was the composer.

I think this book is great for showing the value of thinking differently. I also love the joyful illustrations inspired by ancient Mexican art.

The author, Mike Venezia, believes in having fun. If you want to introduce children to composers and music, make it fun for them. While reading the delightful, imaginative story about Aaron Copland play compositions such as Rodeo, Appalachian Spring, Billy the Kid, and Fanfare for the Common Man.

Mike Venezia has a very interesting, engaging way of introducing art, inventions, and period photography. Visual images bring his numerous children’s classical music books alive. He makes his composers become real people, like you and me.