Jules and Adam Newman's complex, often hostile, relationship has long fueled their music careers as they followed in their father's footsteps. After the release of their debut record, and while struggling to write tracks for the followup, the brothers begin to clash. Jules, the younger brother, feels cast aside and ignored by Adam, who has long been accustomed to having things his own way. From the studio to the stage and across the countless miles in between, Julian Tepper's third novel is a moody and heady work of auto-fiction based on his days in the Natural History, which he and his brother formed in 2001. Between the Records examines brothers, fathers, rock and roll, and the personal demons therein—both musical and familial.
Julian Tepper is the author of four novels, Cooler Heads, Between the Records, Balls, and Ark. His writing has appeared in The Paris Review, Playboy, The Brooklyn Rail, Zyzzyva, The Daily Beast, The Brooklyn Rail, Tablet Magazine, and elsewhere. His essay, "Locking Down with the Family You've Just Eviscerated in a Novel" was a "Notable Essay of 2022" in Best American Essays 2022. He was born and raised on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.
This book is stunning. The characters have so much heart. I found myself thinking about them all of the time. The interpersonal dynamics and deep connection between them resonated with me in such a real way I cried. And then I cried again when it ended. I had The Natural History (the band in the book) playing in the background while I read it which deepened the beauty of the experience. As a music fan, I loved this book but even if you’re not, the story will keep you on the edge of your seat.
Opening on Hollywood Boulevard in 1987, in a "mixed bag" apartment building of musicians, Julian and his brother listen outside the one-bedroom door, as their dad picks and plays his way to a second record.
"Memory repeats..." Julian's dad and 'uncle' croon, giving way to the next generation of brothers trying to break into the biz. But brothers as bandmates proves to be intense. "You saw Billy," his dad laments, "and you had to deal with a whole vision that included you and every second of your life."
Reminiscently noir, Tepper spins a ditty of the underbelly of LA's music industry in the late '80s with honesty, grit, loyalty, and love. Teetering between collaboration and competition, damage and destiny, he classily cuts through the smog and drugs, writing with clarity and electrifying the reader.
Peeling back twenty years of preconceived desires of the promise of fame, fortune, and getting tracks out, grown Julian questions if life between the records--or even music itself--is enough. Despite "getting everything" he's ever wanted, is Julian still that same kid he always was, the one who just wanted a better dad?
Very cool: The father is such a weird antihero role model, doing his self-defeating aging rock star routine and suffering for it. The story takes you into the house where the band members are holed up together. They argue about how they feel connected or how they are ready to split, though they usually don't articulate it in such explicit terms until it's already time for them to make a change. Captures a certain subcultural spirit.
I loved this book. The first chapter hooks you with a conflict among a father and two sons that is simultaneously archetypal and hyper-specific--specific to the rock and roll culture Tepper knows intimately from his own life--and doesn't let you go. I particularly recommend the audiobook, read by Tepper with passion and insight.
This Isn't Spinal Tap; more of a mini family saga about musicians. Heartwarming and very funny in parts. Great hair clipper sound effects from the narrator (Bzzzt!) Nice and short-give it a shot.
Brothers Jules and Adam have music in their blood. Their father is a musician, brimming with both talent and personal torment, and he lives vicariously through the band Jules and Adam form. The life of an indie band is far from glamorous, and the touring they did to promote their first album consisted less of screaming fans than fast food, bad motels, and occasional soul-crushing disappointment. Now they’re on the cusp of a new album--if they can just buckle down and get it done. But again and again, Jules and Adam lose track of the music as they argue violently about their father, each other’s flaws, and the direction the band should go. Drummer Abe does his best to keep the peace, but the brothers’ animosity is intense and deeply rooted. When the band gets a real chance at success, the brothers must confront their family dysfunction or risk losing their shot at the dream entirely.
A work of autobiographical fiction, //Between the Records// is a raw glimpse at the true cost of a musician’s life, but the grim moments of doubt, loss, and near-misses are balanced with moments of true exhilaration--when the payoff seems within reach, and the music being created surpasses anything they’d thought possible. Still, there’s sadness in imagining what could have been, and yearning for the bright moments that have passed. This is a story about a band, and about making music, and about chasing a dream--but it’s also about confronting adulthood head-on, when dreams and cold realities collide.
***Review originally written for the City Book Review. I received a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.***
I'm not a rock star, but this book is pure music to anyone who has ever tried to create something lasting while struggling with family and self-doubt. Jules and Adam are brothers in a band raised by a rock star Dad whose shadow hangs heavy on their psyches, and the book shifts between their uneasy childhood as the progeny of an artist and their search to make their own way as musicians. I read it in quarantine, and scenes where the brothers decamp to a cabin in Woodstock to isolate themselves with their art rang eerily true, as did a humorous scene set in Austin’s SXSW, when the band is dressed in head-to-toe branded denim, then make a pit stop at a Buffalo Exchange that feels like a baptism… or at least a washing away of commercialized waters.
There are gutting lines about the act of creation, like the brothers’ discussion about their father’s failures: "It’s that proclivity toward self-sabotage that worries me. It’s in all of us, you, me, anyone who created anything,” and a friend’s advice to Jules on aging as an artist: “You have a window, a window to be great or to be thought of as great and that window will close… they’ll look at you and see a person who’s no longer young and therefore no longer vital. You have to stop ignoring the importance of fame or start preparing yourself for irrelevancy.” Lines like these stay in your head long after the last page is closed… just like the lines of the author’s real-life song, “Don’t You Evah,” made famous by Spoon. A lyrical meditation on art, family, and fame.