The Train in the Night: A Story of Music and Loss

by Nick Coleman

For thirty years Nick Coleman immersed himself in music, from rock’n’roll to “pro rock,” jazz to classical, until one morning as he sat up in bed, his right ear went stone deaf. His left ear—as though to compensate—started to make horrific noises “…like the inside of an old fridge hooked up to a half-blown amplifier.”

The Train in the Night explores the world in which a music critic must cope with a world that has abruptly lost its most important element, sound. But Coleman opens more than his struggle; he delves back into his past to examine how music defined his identity, how that identity must be reshaped by its loss, and how at time the memory of the music can be just as powerful as the music itself.

Genres: Music, Nonfiction, Biography, Memoir

304 pages, Hardcover

First published February 2, 2012

Reviews

[Laura · Rating 3 out of 5]

From BBC Radio 4 - Book of the week
Nick Coleman's account of how he struggled to overcome losing his hearing in one ear, and how he reinvented his relationship to music, his great passion in life. Today, the ability to hear is music is altered irrevocably, and the process of readjustment begins.

The Train in the Night is the new memoir by Nick Coleman and recounts how he lost his hearing in one ear, and how he struggled to overcome losing his inability to hear music by rethinking the complex relationship we all have with music from psalms and symphonies, to love songs, ballads and punk.

Nick Coleman grew up in the Fens. He has written about music throughout his career as a journalist for titles including NME, Time Out, the Independent and Independent on Sunday, The Times and The Wire.

Reader: Sean Foley, actor and comedian, is currently directing the West End production of The Ladykillers.
Abridged by Richard Hamilton
Produced by Elizabeth Allard.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01b90bt

[JDK1962]

Picked this up at the library primarily on the strength of Nick Hornby's "Wonderful" on the cover. But did not care for it...read the first pages, then read/skimmed the rest. The material about his hearing loss and its impact on his life is heartbreaking, but as he explains to an old crush at the end, the book is about going deaf, and Cambridge in the 70s, and about music. The problem here is that it's mostly about growing up and having rock albums meaning everything to you. And while I might enjoy (or not) his ruminations on albums with which I'm familiar, his discussions about unfamiliar albums seem more like (in the words of Laurie Anderson) dancing about architecture.

I got to the end of this, but am not giving it a star rating, due to the skimming. And I'm filing it as abandoned.

[Karen · Rating 5 out of 5]

One year down the line, I'm beginning to get swept up in how wonderful the Kindle is. And seeing how it panders to the absolute worst of consumerist tendencies, but understanding just how damn exciting that can be sometimes.

Heretofore my pleasure has been in the delayed gratification of keeping a little list of books I might like to read at some point, and scouring the shelves of whichever charity shop I found myself close to, snapping up any opportunity to tick somthing off my list for £3, max. Suits my current budget too.

My acquisition of this book was the polar opposite. Read the review in the Metro on Friday, immediately swtiched on my Kindle and preordered it, bristling with anticipation as I waited for its release date (partly berating myself for having spent £9 on something as horribly intangible as an electronic book - I cannot wholly suppress my inner Luddite), then switching the Kindle on again on Tuesday, and seeing the tantalising yet understatedly lower-case "new" appearing in the margin of the Home screen. The one-third finished Stephen Fry got unceremoniously kicked under the sofa (sorry Stephen).

I may well be in love with Nick Coleman. Now, I am wont to do this with men who write about music, well, who write passionately and personally about music. After reading '31 Songs' I would, at Nick Hornby's behest, blithely have walked out on my husband and children. But Coleman reaches the parts of my musical psyche that hold no interest for Hornby at all: languishing near the back of an adolescent orchestra, tick; the ineffable thrill of sacred choral music, tick.

It is not perfect; his use of interesting and unusual words (which demonstrated another of the Kindle's beauties - the built-in dictionary) was diluted when he used them more than once: "lambent" and "prolix" are just a couple of examples. And his diatribe against Cambridge, illuminating as it was, felt a bit shoehorned in.

But, just as you think it's going to go a bit too 'muso', you're brought back down to earth with the reminder that this is a personal, devastating, tragic story that makes you want to hug the book (then you remember that you're actually holding an electronic device, which is far less huggable. No matter...).

However, want to know what the freakiest thing about it was? When I switched the Kindle off at the end of the chapter where Coleman likens his father to Saint Jerome, in his study, with the lion... guess what the screensaver was?... Yup. The famous (apparently - I had to Google it - my knowledge of iconography is pretty woeful) Albrecht Durer painting. I don't know which option freaks me out more - that it was a massive coincidence or that my Kindle is far more self-aware than I give it credit for.

Anyway, I hope future reviews will be less to do with the Kindle than the book itself. Buy this book. Buy it now.

[Tracy Pierson · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was more music memoir than anything else, but when the author talked about how differently he heard music once he became deaf in one ear, it made me cry.

[Gill Jackman · Rating 5 out of 5]

How anyone can give this book 3 or 4 stars, I've no idea. Have they ever tried writing a book themselves? It should get 5 stars on prose style alone. Just on being grammarly.
But if I was being wholly subjective, I'd give it ..... 5 stars.
Because I, too was born in 1960 and so underwent a parallel process in terms of discovering Stevie Wonder was God at a certain age.(Younger than him, but then girls are more mature.)
And I, too, suffer from deafness in one ear. I had already given thanks that I don't have tinnitus before I read his scrapyard description of it and his longing for silence.
And I, too, set up my hi-fi before anything else when I move house and know to the last detail every middle 8 + harmonies that the Beatles, Kirsty MaColl and Kate and Anna McGarrigle ever created.
So if you're into music, this is the book for you. Nick Coleman has managed to communicate the impact of particular bits of music as no one ever has (and believe me, I've tried.) He does it by recreating the context (hormones, dullness of postwar, smalltime homelife, me-generation aspiration) in which it hit him, so we get a great deal more than technical know how, which never works. If you are over 40, there will be something here for you to relate to and if you're under, just listen and learn.
Also, going deaf has made the guy think about aural perception as never before, which is (obviously) very interesting and deeply connected to the question, What is Reality Anyway? Hospital incompetence deeply amusing (sorry, Nick). Death of Father deeply upsetting. (I cried) and all I can say is, thanks Nick Coleman and very best wishes to you, Jane and the kids. (I'd add one of those smiley things but can't see one here.)
6 people found this helpful

[Sue Robinson · Rating 5 out of 5]

I really really loved this book! To read Coleman's prose is utter joy. Joy of the sort he must have enjoyed listening to music before his loss of hearing. I am totally deaf in one ear, either from birth or soon after, so a lot of what he describes I sympathise with, I have never been able to hear music in stereo, and never before been able to understand what it meant to others. But now I do. I loved the part where he tells of spinning himself on the spot to discover where the sound is coming from. And looking all around like an idiot when someone is calling you and you can't tell where from. I have often done both. So his journey through his deafness meant a lot to me, nevertheless I still rate his prose some of the best.

[Mancman · Rating 2 out of 5]

The slow pace I read this reflects on my enjoyment level.
I was intrigued by the concept and the blurb. I wish I’d taken a little longer to sample the writing.
I struggled with this, it was like wading through treacle. I’m not sure what I was hoping for, but it wasn’t this.
If you’re into stories about someone’s journey through music, including obscure references then you’ve hit the jackpot.
I feel bad, because the author seems like a good guy, his writing just didn’t work for me.

[Jan · Rating 4 out of 5]

A really enjoyable trawl through one man's musical taste development and growing up through his musical background all set with a background of hearing loss and tinnitus.

Unfortunately it seemed to lose its way towards the end and meandered around a bit going nowhere.

[Ralph · Rating 4 out of 5]

Thought provoking and engrossing. One man's relationship with music is challenged by his loss of hearing leading to questions about what part music plays in our lives

[Chris Brown · Rating 3 out of 5]

Written clearly with a straight ahead gaze and no self-pity even though a painful affliction decimated his hearing. Very engaging

[Leeni · Rating 2 out of 5]

Uccelin muistelmia musiikista ja tytöistä, ja vähän myös yhtäkkisestä kuulon alenemasta. Pitkäpiimäinen lukukokemus, mutta kuulovamma kiinnosti. Pelottavaa kirjassa on se, että kirjoittaja vammautui yhtäkkiä, eikä sille ole yksiselitteistä syytä, paremminkin vain teorioita huonojen sattumien sarjasta.

[Bettie · Rating 2 out of 5]

Listen here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/...

blurb - The Train in the Night is the new memoir by Nick Coleman and recounts how he lost his hearing in one ear, and how he struggled to overcome losing his inability to hear music by rethinking the complex relationship we all have with music from psalms and symphonies, to love songs, ballads and punk.

Nick Coleman grew up in the Fens. He has written about music throughout his career as a journalist for titles including NME, Time Out, the Independent and Independent on Sunday, The Times and The Wire.

Reader: Sean Foley, actor and comedian, is currently directing the West End production of The Ladykillers. Abridged by Richard Hamilton Produced by Elizabeth Allard.

The rhapsody from Dies Natalis by Finzi (Traherne's mystical poem) mentioned in episode 1 is here: http://youtu.be/JMAYUdwvLyM

This Beeb production is superb - they have cut in snatches of the music referred to, and seeing that I am in the age group he refers to (Mowtown's greatest vol III was my fav too!) then we are cooking on gas.

[Roger Irish · Rating 4 out of 5]

What can I say? I enjoyed this so much I didn't want it to end. It's a strange mixture: partly the author's experiences after a sudden traumatic loss of hearing (one theme that runs throughout the book); also the story of someone obsessed with music and their relationship to it (another constant theme) interspersed with an account of growing up as a teenager in the mid 1970's.

High spots: His account of discussions of the merits of various albums amongst his friends; the musical transformation as punk hit the scene in latter half of the 1970's; Lulu (not that one) - another theme; his descriptions of the way he feels about music and how much it means to him.

If you were a teenager in the 1970's or love music or just enjoy a really human story about the trials of real life read it! Note: He does not like the music of Frank Zappa, he is a huge Stones fan and he does support Arsenal. In the interest of no surprises, I'm just putting this out there.

As tradition dictates I can only close this review with one word (to be shouted at the top of your voice: "Albatross!"

[Nick Davies · Rating 3 out of 5]

A difficult one to summarise - it started abrasively but improved. When the author is talking about human nature and the experiences that we share as children and adolescants and people, he was witty and insightful. When he was talking about other stuff that I couldn't find relevance in, it just came over as the rambings of a frustrated music journalist (which, essentially, it was). Obviously a confident and proficient writer, some of the prose was beautiful, but on the other hand there were huge sections which I could only skim as it was so self-indulgent. All that said, I am aware that perhaps I was just born too late to 'get' a lot of the cultural references, and would recommend the book for people born in the early-mid 60's.

[Pep Bonet · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a book which could be interesting for many people, but I must confess my alienation while reading it. Probably because my teen age was more than music, we'll, indeed there wasn't much music in it, because I found and still find other compelling subjects of interest, but also because I feel like an alien reading it. Most of the music mentioned is foreign to me, except the Floyd, the Dead, the Stones and a couple others, but also because not being a Briton, I don't recognise the society, even the language. I must admit the writing must surely be very catching, but I got tired most of the time, had to indulge in skipping here and there and couldn't follow the book with full attention.

[Greta · Rating 3 out of 5]

I chose this book from the library because it looked interesting and because it was something I thought someone I know would enjoy reading, but I thought I should read it first. The story of this man's love of music, how it shaped his life and the impact his hearing loss had on his life and his ability to participate in his world of music was all well-written, thought provoking and, in the end, makes you realize how "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone". It was a pleasant memoir to read, despite the difficulties Nick encountered in his quest to get back into music.

[Adam Wilson · Rating 4 out of 5]

A compelling, moving wonderful book from music journalist Nick Coleman. Autobiographical it charts Nick's lifelong love of music and the dramatic impact a loss of hearing played on this aspect of his life and beyond.

[micheal vickers · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great read...

This is an amazing book. Nick Coleman takes you through a period of his life when he felt the most detached from the one thing he loved the most- music. To go through the ordeal he did dealing with SNHL and to finally be able to listen to music again is amazing.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

Much more than the story of a guy who loses his hearing. Lyrical, thoughtful and captivating. My book of the year so far.

[Simon Packham · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hugely entertaining - particularly for anyone who was a teenager in 1976.

[Chris Perley · Rating 4 out of 5]

Beautifully crafted book. And I could relate to it, both as a teenager in the 70s, and to the nature of loss.

[Ingmar · Rating 2 out of 5]

Despite the acclaim from Nick Hornby, I found this book to be rambling, lacking any insight, and ultimately pointless. A great premise boringly executed.

[Mark Brown]

Moving account of someone coming to terms with sudden acute hearing loss: some great descriptions of growing up with music in the seventies.Makes you want to enjoy those musical experiences now,not wait until it's too late.