This Woman’s Work: Essays on Music is edited by Kim Gordon and Sinead Gleeson and features contributors Anne Enright, Fatima Bhutto, Jenn Pelly, Rachel Kushner, Juliana Huxtable, Leslie Jamison, Liz Pelly, Maggie Nelson, Margo Jefferson, Megan Jasper, Ottessa Moshfegh, Simone White, Yiyun Li and Zakia Sewell.
Published to challenge the historic narrative of music and music writing being written by men, for men, This Woman’s Work seeks to confront the male dominance and sexism that have been hard-coded in the canons of music, literature, and film and has forced women to fight pigeon-holing or being side-lined by carving out their own space. Women have to speak up, to shout louder to tell their story – like the auteurs and ground-breakers featured in this collection, including: Anne Enright on Laurie Anderson; Megan Jasper on her ground-breaking work with Sub Pop; Margo Jefferson on Bud Powell and Ella Fitzgerald; and Fatima Bhutto on music and dictatorship.
This Woman’s Work also features writing on the experimentalists, women who blended music and activism, the genre-breakers, the vocal auteurs; stories of lost homelands and friends; of propaganda and dictatorships, the women of folk and country, the racialised tropes of jazz, the music of Trap and Carriacou; of mixtapes and violin lessons.
Kim Althea Gordon is an American musician, vocalist, and artist. She sings, plays bass and guitar in the alternative rock band Sonic Youth. She also plays in the band Free Kitten with Julie Cafritz (of Pussy Galore), and she has collaborated with musicians such as Ikue Mori, Kurt Cobain, DJ Olive, William Winant, Lydia Lunch, Alan Licht, and Chris Corsano.
This is a collection of essays on the subject of women in music, from the auteurs and pioneers who broke down barriers in a male-dominated world, to more personal tales of the ways in which music can enrich a life. It's co-edited by Kim Gordon from Sonic Youth and Sinead Gleeson, the Irish critic and author of Constellations, a terrific anthology of her own non-fiction.
The book gets off to a great start with Anne Enright's appreciation of the avant-garde composer Laurie Anderson. She talks about finally having the chance to meet her hero during an event the Irish Arts Centre in New York. All of the things Enright has wanted to say for years are racing through her head - she is bursting to explain how much Anderson's work has meant to her. And she ends up completely tongued-tied, unable to get anything remotely intelligible out. We've all been there, haven't we? It's a delightful take on the highs and lows of fandom.
Many of the pieces look at music as a form of identity in some way. Maggie Nelson writes beautifully about the American artist Lhasa de Sela, "my first and only truly bohemian friend." They were pals at school when a rudderless de Sela found her calling as a singer, later going on to create extraordinary albums that won multiple awards. She died of breast cancer aged 37 and though they had drifted apart in later years, Nelson looks back on their friendship with fond memories.
The standout essay for me comes from Leslie Jamison, and it's constructed around eight different mix-tapes that she has listened to at various times in her life. At one point she comes to realise that her taste in music has been shaped by her efforts to win the approval of men, "that I'd spent much of my life trying to gain the affirmation of men by loving what they loved, and by creating myself as a person they would see as worthy of love." But when lockdown arrives, she dances to her own playlists at home with her young daughter, and begins to write a new story for herself.
There were several other pieces I enjoyed, such as Sub Pop CEO Megan Jasper's memories of answering the phones when she joined the label as a receptionist at the height of grunge, and Gleeson's own account of her admiration for electronic trailblazer Wendy Carlos. It's a wide-ranging, thought-provoking collection of writing that shines a light on some of the female stories that have been marginalized through the history of music. I'd happily read another volume.
Pretty fucking cool! As with all anthologies, not all the pieces are slam-dunks, but many of them were brilliant and I'm just delighted to have come away with even more artists to listen to. Faves include Kim Gordon's interview with the incredibly cool drummer-and-more Yoshimi (who I'd never heard of before!), Maggie Nelson's love letter of sorts to a lost time, place, and friend, Lhasa de Sela, Margo Jefferson's stunning tribute to Bud Powell and (more importantly, I'd argue) Ella Fitzgerald, Sinéad Gleason's essay on electronic music foremother Wendy Carlos, and Megan Jasper's missives from the early days of Sub Pop to its present.
If approaching this collection expecting a feminist critique of the music industry, readers will be surprised but not necessarily disappointed to find a series of nostalgic ruminations from critics, essayists and industry professionals about the personal significance of music in their lives. This eclectic collection invites you to indulge in the fandom, influence and experiences (good and bad) brought about by the artists each contributor most admires.
A tip for readers – don’t read in order. You won’t know all of the artists and many are hard to track down on streaming libraries. This might be off-putting for some, and makes certain chapters more difficult to relate to – but if you can find them, listening to the artist as you read gives the collection a whole new level of immersion. Who knows, maybe future editions will be published with a mixtape.
Even thugh for me this was a pretty uneven collection, I would still read 88 more books exactly like this: women talking about music and what it has meant in their lives.
Some of these essays were chef's kiss and others were kind of a snooze. The essay on Lucinda Williams and the one about Ella Fitzgerald were the stars of this show.
A book about a topic I've always been fascinated by, with many engaging and insightful essays by writers like Maggie nelson and Ottessa Mossfegh. Marred by some less interesting and/or vague essays
This Woman's Work: Essays on Music, edited by Kim Gordon and Sinead Gleeson, is a splendid mix of essays that touch on so many different aspects of music, performers, and particularly women musicians.
If you come to this collection without having your expectations too narrow I think you will enjoy all of the essays. By too narrow, I simply mean expecting one specific type of music essay, for instance one about musical influence or one about song meanings. These essays include everything from essentially a career overview told through interpreting (primarily) one song to the political importance/threat of music and poetry to simply, as most of us can relate, to being a starstruck fan of someone.
While the reader will relate to things in every essay these are also very personal essays. The essayists are writing from deep personal belief and emotion, we are being invited to both hear their stories and to relate our own to them. While they all work in different ways, they do all work. Like so many multi-author essay collections, I would recommend taking a break, even half an hour, to digest what you read before reading the next.
A wonderful additional aspect of this book is the playlist you'll create, whether in actuality or in your mind. I revisited some artists and songs I had forgotten about as well as discovered some new works. Make this a multimedia event for yourself, it will be fun.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
This is solid gold. It shouldn't be a rarity for women to work in music journalism. Women make music, we birth music, we love it and nurture it and feed from it. Why wouldn't we be experts in writing on it, too? This collection of essays is insightful, challenging, candid, funny and memorable in a perfect alchemy of writers who are united in their passion for music, but so different in their specific experiences. It's a joy to immerse yourself in one or two essays at a time, perhaps revisiting a line or a reference, and then taking a few days to think it over before continuing. Rachel Kushner is a lesson in class, as ever, and Kim Gordon's gorgeous paean to a largely underacknowledged punk rock pioneer is wonderful.
A lovely collection. Naturally, some pieces delight more than others, but highlights include one about Wendy Carlos and Kim Gordon's interview with that shimmering one Yoshimi Yokota. Thanks ren for the pressie! Japanese music ooh aah
1) I didn't read this book in order. Why? Because that is the pure joy of collections of essays. Thank you College Lit 101 for teaching me that (sorry I can't remember my professors name... but hey lady... I appreciate the thing you taught me). 2) I love collections. It's easily digestible. Easy to take up and read at my leisure and ease.
The cover has a photo of Kim Gordon. She is a contributor and one of the editors. That is not solely why I read the book, sure it didn't hurt but the idea of reading essays by women (possibly for and about women) was the attraction. It was not a disappointment, this book was lovely and a great way to kick off the literary year for me. I was introduced to so many different women writers and musicians that I didn't know about, my brain was opened up in a way that I didn't anticipate reacting to these essays.
The first essay that I read was which also kicks of the book- "Fan Girl" by Anne Enright. As I read this story I laughed out loud at points... the author meets one of her favorite musical artists (no spoilers) and reading about it was so wonderful. I can relate to her experience as I had the same reaction she did with her icon with several people that I have been fortunate enough to be able to meet some of my favorite artists. If you read the story you will laugh too because honestly... this is what happens. The essay continues with some additional information about further thoughts into the interaction. It made me really think deeply about my interactions and the sillieness but the reason why it was so silly and wonderful. I thank Anne Enright for taking me to a place that brought me such joy from my memory bank.
Another highlight was "Double-Digit Jukebox: An Essay in Eight Mixes" by Leslie Jamison. This essay is about various times in her life and how the mix tape plays a role. It was a delight. This sentence totally blew me away "sunlit salt breeze world of the west". She talks to her brother's influence on her musical taste, which is a truth for so many. I was the older sibling so I hope that my brother feels as warmly as the author does for her brother. Reading this essay made me remember something that is less than caring (a boyfriend back in the day, made a mixtape for another girlfriend that I didn't really know about... and yes, when I found that mixtape he made for the other girl... I walked. It is something that is breakupable... don't be fooled) but was a funny memory nonetheless. Music is such a trigger for memories and this essay brought some great things (and less than great). A miss from the author is that her playlists (today's mixtape are not up anymore... I would have LOVED to have listened to them. By the way I read this while I was at a bar listening to a live band. I had two folks come up and ask me what I was reading and I believe in my heart of hearts sharing the joy of what I reading had them add it to their wish list. Fingers Crossed.
I read a couple more treats of essays in order and was introduced to musicans that I had never heard of. Some that I couldn't find the music of and others that have entire playlists dedicated to them. I suggest when you read these stories, find a playlist about the subject and have it in the background. Seriously ... It makes such a difference and it is a nice accessory to the experience.
I read the remembrances of a friend of author Maggie Nelson who recalls "My Brilliant Friend". It is a remembrance of her childhood friend musician, Lhasa. I hadn't ever heard of this artist and the story and essay ended up being a loving memorial to her friend. It was really wonderful. And I got introduced to a new musician. I appreciated the genuine discussion of and memory of the time they had together. Don't forget your friends- this is one of the messages and love these memories.
One other highlight was "Hearing Voices" by Zakia Sewell. To say that my heart broke while reading would not be a lie. It made me appreciate my Mom, the music that she brought into my life growing up and I want to thank the author for reminding me of my love for my childhood with all the music my parents and mom truly brought into my life.
This is a GREAT read by some amazing authors, writers, musicians and artists. I took a while to get through the whole book because I wanted to make sure that I absorbed all the different styles and stories.
Thanks to Hachette Books for providing me with an advanced copy. I look forward to sending this to a few friends for birthday presents. There are such treasures to hold onto in this book
This Woman's Work: Essays on Music is releasing on May 3, 2022 and it's absolutely worth picking up and reading!
They only selected the best of the best when it came to these essays and their contributors. Kim Gordon has got an eye, but of course she does.
Fatima Bhutto from Pakistan, referencing Bob Marley, discussing displacement, connecting Otis Redding-Sitting on the dock of the Bay, connecting internationally displaced people, victims of war and icons that stood up against injustice, connecting Iqbal Bano and Fela Kuti.. Yo this essay KILLED Me. It was so fucking good. Like insane. Amazing.
Every essay had that quality about it tho. I can't say enough good things about this read.
Kim Gordon interviewing her friend and influence, a Japanese drummer named Yoshimi that she's been friends with since her Sonic Youth early days was bomb.
Anne Enright writing about Laurie Anderson; influence, art, love and loss. Next level.
I don't even want to get into Juliana Huxtable writing about the legacy, and influence, impact of women who open space, and change things. Juliana goes hard talking about the incredible Linda Sharrock -- and it is a TRANSFORMATIONAL essay. Like, absolutely mind-blowing.
I started this as my women's history month read this year and I'm so glad that I did because it hit. It was everything.
I was fully on board with the concept of this book, described on the flyleaf as to "challenge the historic narrative of music and music writing being written by men, for men".
And there are some engaging essays in this anthology. Megan Jasper provides a reflection on the early days of Sub Pop which is at times funny, sad and jaw-dropping. Leslie Jamison's Essay in Eight Mixes uses mix-tapes she has loved at various points in her life as a device for sharing memories about work, identity and relationships that feel complete and coherent. And Ottessa Moshfegh's reminiscence about her music teacher Valentina, and her own journey away from performing as a musician, is a short but well-constructed piece of memoir.
Sadly, these essays are the exception. I struggled to stay with many of the other articles, which were often overly long and without any clear point to make. The writers meander around their musical memories and opinions in a manner that is close to self-indulgence, and when I did manage to make it to the end, I was none the wiser about what it was they wanted to convey.
This was a good idea for an anthology, but it needed tighter editorial discipline. Perhaps there will be a more successful second volume.
If there is any piece of writing I love writing and reading it is a music essay. Oftentimes the writing is less about celebrating the music itself and more about how the writer relates to what they're listening to and how it makes them come alive that is what is most interesting to me. I was very delighted that this book showcases a slew of talented writers (specifically Maggie Nelson, the Pellys, Ottesa Moshfegh and Leslie Jamison - writers whose writing I could read all day I could). My favorite piece was Jenn Pelly's essay on Lucinda Williams. The first year of the pandemic, all I listened to was Lucinda Williams and I related to it very much. It was also nice to see that the book doesn't only feature the white woman's point of view and that writers of different races, sexual orientations, and nationalities were present in this collection. Even the title "This Woman's Work," whether intentional or not (I think this was intentional) is an exciting little Easter egg for fans of Kate Bush. Thank you to Hachette and NetGalley for the ARC of this book.
I misread what this collection of essays was. I thought it was authors writing about songs that influenced them. NOT the case. This is a group of essays about music, any aspect of music. It includes literary criticism and personal reflections. Hard to read sometimes. I loved some of the essays, but didn't get past the first paragraph of others.
An uneven collection of essays centered around female literary authors and their relationship with music, with interested contributors (kim gordon,otessa moshfegh, jen pelly, maggie nelson, etc) , warning before purchase that this is MOT a collection of essays about women in music
The essays centered around mixtapes, wendy carlos, etta james, the subpop label were the highlights for me. Consider flipping through the essays before purchase. You might be exposed to new female writers from this book which is always a cool thing.
A really cool idea for a book but mis-marketed and difficult to recommend. Difficult to rate due to uneven quality of essays.
Such evident effusion, eagerness; and affection in the author’s voices in each essay as they dissect or poke fun of or reminisce on the artists and production practices that shape the industry and their own lives today. Nice book to pick up and put down and the essay on Lucinda Williams was quite brilliant.
This is a interesting book about women speaking out and telling their their stories about being groundbreakers and having to break and kick a few doors to get where they are in music of their generation. I loved reading about how they started out and working their way up and dealing in a man world. It’s a powerful women story. Women need to speak up and shout loader to tell their stories
I loved this collection of essays. Maybe what others might be annoyed by, I found compelling- really a mishmash of approaches- some more memoir, some historical, some critical- on musicians I know and love and musicians I’ve never heard of. There really isn’t a weak link in the whole book. Flew through this.
lovely little collection (ty ellie!!) - it was very cool reading essays from some fav authors (moshfegh, maggie nelson) on topics that felt so different than their normal writing
special shoutout to my 6th grade science teacher mr K for showing me Little Boxes (mentioned in Broadside Ballads) and radicalizing me against suburbia at the tender age of 10
As with any nonfiction book of essays, especially when those essays are written by different contributors some are going to resonate more than others.
I would genuinely give this book 5 stars for the essays I liked, there were some I was so taken by. They hit me in a very visceral way. After reading; listening to music is my favourite thing. The feelings you get when a song means something to you. There is nothing better. Some of these essays really hit on that and I loved reading them.
I also learned something about music and artists that I hadn’t been aware of before this book. I’d never heard of Lhasa or her body of work but Maggie Nelson’s essay about her made her come alive for me and I felt her loss.
Also Fan Girl By :Annie Enright
I cannot say enough about that essay. Especially the passage she wrote about being embarrassed about being a fan of Laurie Anderson and having someone fault her for it.
“ I was not a true fan. If I were a true fan, I would have held all that close. You offer your liking to the world and the world goes meh. Some people survive this and some people cannot survive this and I am one of the latter.”
This was one of my favourite of her passages because it’s so endemic of the music industry and the entire “Stan” culture.
But I can’t tell you how difficult I find the music conversation - the one where people gather into tribes, swap favourites, judge, include, exclude, bond ,claim status or coolness or an identity because of their choices. Music undoes me. It does not tell me who I am. It is something I listen to on my own.
If you like music, and more specifically women writing about their experiences with listening to, making or enjoying music this is for you.
Give it a try, the essays might not all speak to you but even if you find only one, it’s worth the read.
I was expecting this book to be a collection of essays about musicians, by musicians I couldn’t name other than Kim Gordon (mainly why I picked up this book) but I was wrong. A good mix of musicians and music journalists. I thoroughly enjoyed the opening piece by Anne Enright, (Fan Girl), a perfect humourous essay to begin the book. Kim Gordon’s piece was interesting, but rather than about herself, it was an interview between her and Yoshimi, a drummer for a Japanese “Japanoise” equivalent of Sonic Youth, Boredoms. I guess because she wrote her own memoir Kim felt compelled to write about someone else but I feel like that would have worked better if Yoshimi submitted an essay herself. Other than that, a great read.
As usual with a collection of essays there are some here that are good and others that just don't appeal at all. Unfortunately the majority of this collection was leaning towards the latter which is really disappointing, I found myself skimming through essays just to be done with the book.
Essays by artists, writers, and musicians on the impact of woman musicians on their lives. Ann Enright writes about meeting her favorite musician and imagines eloquently expressing her impact on her, but instead finds herself stumbling over her words. Fatima Bhutto talks about the need for music for those in exile. She writes, "now dictators hate beautiful things like music since it inspires people and they cannot control it." So many more experiences from Sonic Youth's Kim Jordon to the CEO of Subpop records.
Favorite Passages:
There is liberty in musical dissonance. And where there is liberty, there will be mutiny. Tyrants hate music because no matter their force and their power, they will never, not ever, be able to control what is beautiful.
“Fruits of My Labor" is a song I most often turn to when I'm at sea in my desk chair with a blank page and the curtains drawn to trick myself into believing I'm writing at dawn. It's a reminder that I'm not the only person who has sat alone with my thoughts and wondered how life got so very confusing, wondered if I can be satisfied, wondered if I can regain the plot, wondered if I can work through my doubts and come out with some beauty.
Betrayal is a immanent risk. The disciplinary structure of language which announces its presence at many encounters—class, gender, race, national border—is a cancer endemic to any attempt at the command or disavowal of a language built to monitor scrutinize and direct expression and labor. This betrayal, or its risk, is a terror from which the only escape is a different register altogether.
When I witnessed that, I was convinced that music becomes audible when the musician is physically touching the instrument, but the music is already being played within that person. If the music you hear is made up of the vibrations being emitted from one person, layering multiple sounds on top of each other is an extraordinary phenomenon. Then you have an audience who comes to see that, and they bring that influence home with them. Music is vibration, so it enters people's bodies and souls like light. In order to be able to make the music audible that is already playing within you, you need to prepare yourself as a vessel to receive the music. You could say that that's my technique. It's all about keeping yourself light and putting yourself in the position to receive, rather than being tense.
There is a disconnect there and being in this position it makes me feel uncomfortable sometimes. But it's all a part of life. when I create music or art and express myself, in a way, I'm posing everything that is inside of me to the outside world. As soon as my expression makes its way into the world, the person Who receives it interprets it in their own way. The receiver will project themselves onto me, the source of the expression, and create their own mental image of me. All the different people who receive my expression will have different mental images of me, so in a way there are multitudes of "me" that exist. By the time a person receives my expression, I don't exist there anymore. So being the source of this expression, all I can do is be myself and express myself honestly. My job is to expose the sounds that are within me in a way that feels good to me, and be myself to the best of my abilities.
Questo libro è un gioiello. Da un punto di vista strutturale, è composto da 16 saggi scritti da donne che, in un modo o nell'altro, vivono di musica: c'è Kim Gordon, che non ha bisogno di presentazioni, ma anche Megan Jasper, AD della leggendaria casa discografica Sup Pop di Seattle; e poi dj, giornaliste musicali, scrittrici che si occupano/si sono occupate anche di musica. Dal punto di vista contenutistico, alcune persone mi hanno fatto notare la non perfetta aderenza del titolo all'argomento dei saggi, in quanto l'aspettativa che la copertina crea è quella di trovare raccontata l'esperienza "materiale" delle donne nel mondo del lavoro musicale, mentre di fatto la maggior parte dei contributi sono o di critica-teoria musicale, o pezzi autobiografici che parlano del ruolo della musica nella vita delle autrici. Se comprendo la matrice di questa osservazione critica, non riesco tuttavia a condividerla in pieno. Penso che il libro abbia il grande merito di mostrare - senza peraltro la pretesa di impartire lezioni a nessuno - come le donne siano soggetti musicali, di contro alla visione predominante che vede la donna come "oggetto" di musica (e di arte in generale), incapace (o meno capace) di astrazione teorica e prassi immaginativa. Il libro si oppone a questo senza peraltro voler criticare nessuno: semplicemente, in un modo disarmante, apre uno spazio libero e sicuro dove donne di provenienza ed esperienze diverse si ritrovano insieme per parlare di musica e le loro voci si intrecciano e creano uno scambio reciproco e con i lettori, come se fosse un grande variegato dialogo in cui non c'è giudizio, ma solo una grande libertà e un grande amore. Perché sì, quello che più traspare da questi saggi è il profondo amore per la musica di queste persone, seppure in modi anche molto diversi (per un'autrice la musica è un "simbolo della vita" e non la vita stessa, per un'altra è una dimensione in cui l'Io scompare, per un'altra ancora è il legame con sua madre e i suoi antenati...). Non meno importante, questo libro vi farà scoprire tantissime artiste più o meno dimenticate o variamente sottovalutate, e che invece meritano il riconoscimento della loro arte e del loro sudato lavoro (appunto). Perché essere donne, in ogni tempo, è già un atto rivoluzionario, e fare musica è l'essenza stessa della rivoluzione. Dunque, in definitiva, fare musica è proprio un lavoro da donne.