Summer is the ideal season for fun, frothy reads. On languorous weekends or hard-earned vacations, many people skew their literary diet toward lighter fare—fast-paced thrillers, steamy rom-coms—rather than, say, an in-depth history or an experimental novel.
But fall is fast approaching. For some, that means a return to school; for many others, it represents the end of the most leisurely time of the year.
In one of my favorite videos of the singer-songwriter Glen Hansard, who died this week at the age of 56, he is standing in a small backyard in Cologne. It’s 2015, and he’s playing “Say It to Me Now,” which he performs in the opening scene of the breakout 2007 indie film Once; it’s a raw, wrenching plea of a song that explodes in its second half.
Music, of all art forms, is uniquely tied up with memory. It’s stitched into the fabric of daily life: Think about the mixtape you made for your first crush, the pop star whose posters were plastered in your teenage bedroom, the album that got you through your divorce, the jam band whose tour you followed across the country. All provide tantalizing insights into your past—and present—selves.It’s no wonder, then, that the best music writing gets personal.