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They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us
In an age of confusion, fear, and loss, Hanif Abdurraqib's is a voice that matters. Whether he's attending a Bruce Springsteen concert the day after visiting Michael Brown's grave, or discussing public displays of affection at a Carly Rae Jepsen show, he writes with a poignancy and magnetism that resonates profoundly.
In the wake of the nightclub attacks in Paris, he recalls how he sought refuge as a teenager in music, at shows, and wonders whether the next generation of young Muslims will not be afforded that opportunity now. While discussing the everyday threat to the lives of black Americans, Abdurraqib recounts the first time he was ordered to the ground by police officers: for attempting to enter his own car.
In essays that have been published by the New York Times, MTV, and Pitchfork, among others—along with original, previously unreleased essays—Abdurraqib uses music and culture as a lens through which to view our world, so that we might better understand ourselves, and in so doing proves himself a bellwether for our times.
In the wake of the nightclub attacks in Paris, he recalls how he sought refuge as a teenager in music, at shows, and wonders whether the next generation of young Muslims will not be afforded that opportunity now. While discussing the everyday threat to the lives of black Americans, Abdurraqib recounts the first time he was ordered to the ground by police officers: for attempting to enter his own car.
In essays that have been published by the New York Times, MTV, and Pitchfork, among others—along with original, previously unreleased essays—Abdurraqib uses music and culture as a lens through which to view our world, so that we might better understand ourselves, and in so doing proves himself a bellwether for our times.
322 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 14, 2017
About the author
Hanif Abdurraqib
26 books3,014 followersHanif Abdurraqib is a poet, essayist, and cultural critic from Columbus, Ohio. His poetry has been published in Muzzle, Vinyl, PEN American, and various other journals. His essays and music criticism have been published in The FADER, Pitchfork, The New Yorker, and The New York Times. His first full length poetry collection, The Crown Ain't Worth Much, was released in June 2016 from Button Poetry. It was named a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Book Prize, and was nominated for a Hurston-Wright Legacy Award. With Big Lucks, he released a limited edition chapbook, Vintage Sadness, in summer 2017 (you cannot get it anymore and he is very sorry.) His first collection of essays, They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us, was released in winter 2017 by Two Dollar Radio and was named a book of the year by Buzzfeed, Esquire, NPR, Oprah Magazine, Paste, CBC, The Los Angeles Review, Pitchfork, and The Chicago Tribune, among others. He released Go Ahead In The Rain: Notes To A Tribe Called Quest with University of Texas press in February 2019. The book became a New York Times Bestseller, and was met with critical acclaim. His second collection of poems, A Fortune For Your Disaster, was released in 2019 by Tin House. He is a graduate of Beechcroft High School.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 2,294 reviews
November 12, 2017
I'd never cried while reading an essay about fall out boy before, so that was new
December 8, 2018
One of those books where you read 20 pages, grab a pen and restart to take notes, and then abandon the pen at page 50 because you're underlining everything and making a mess of ink.
December 10, 2017
CRACKED MY HEART WIDE OPEN
November 1, 2023
This is an absolute must read
March 15, 2019
I had never heard of Hanif Abdurraqib (although I don’t read a lot of essay collections, so he might be more well-known in those circles), so it was by pure coincidence that I was in a local bookstore looking for Christmas presents and saw his book on the shelf of Staff Picks. If you want the short review, here it is: this is one of the best books I’ve ever read. Not one of the best essay collections – best books, full stop.
Even though I read and enjoyed [title] by Chuck Klosterman, there was definitely a generational divide that kept me from getting really immersed in his essays. Klosterman’s main focus is the music of the 1980’s, which I just don’t know very much about. It feels unoriginal (and a little reductive) to call Abdurraqib the Chuck Klosterman for Millennials, but if you were to ask me for my elevator pitch for They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us, that would be it. Abdurraqib writes about music that I have a much more personal relationship with, so I enjoyed his essays a lot more than Klosterman’s.
But to reduce Abduraqib to just a music or pop culture critic is to undersell the brilliance of his writing. Abdurraqib isn’t just writing about music; he��s writing about how music seeps into every aspect of our lives, and how it can shape and change our experiences. Abdurraqib doesn’t just write about concerts he attended; he writes about how it feels to be one of the few black kids at a punk concert. He writes about Fleetwood Mac and how artists commidify heartbreak (“At some point, a person figured out that the performance of sadness was a currency, and art has bowed at its altar ever since. Sometimes it’s a game we play: if I can convince you that I am falling apart, in need of love, perhaps I can draw you close enough to tell you what I really need.”). He writes about the concert he was at when the news came out about Trayvon Martin, and how nobody could get cell service inside the venue so when the show ended everyone was standing in the parking lot, staring at their phones as they read the news. He writes about the history of Fall Out Boy, and it becomes an exploration of ego and fame and then Abdurraqib makes it circle back to the beginning of the essay, when he wrote about an old friend who committed suicide.
“Patrick [Stump] once said, ‘I sang because Pete [Wentz] saw, in me, a singer,” and I think what he meant is that Pete saw, in him, a vehicle. This was the band’s great fascinating pull. That they were a bit of a mutation: a shy and otherwise silent frontman with a voice like a soul singer, belting out the confessional emo lyrics of a neurotic narcissist. Pete, who wanted the attention, but not enough to sing the words himself. I’m thinking about this again in a bar in Austin, Texas. Wearing a patch taken from my dead friend’s old bedroom, and considering the things we saw in each other that kept us whole for our brief window of time together. Tyler fought kids who fucked with us at punk shows because I saw, in him, a fighter. Until he stopped getting out of bed some mornings and I told myself that I saw, in him, a burden. Until the dirt was shoveled over the black casket and I saw, in him, nothing but a collection of memories.”
Music is so much more than just music.
Hopefully I’ve raved about this book enough to convince you to go out and buy a copy, but just in case, I’m going to quote the end of Abdurraqib’s (fucking transcendent) essay on Prince’s performance at the 2007 SuperBowl halftime show. If you’re not familiar with it, please watch this video and then come back to the review.
“There is no moment like this one in any other halftime show, before it or since. Prince, only a shadow, putting his hands to an instrument and coaxing out a song within a song. And of course there was still rain, beads of it covering the camera lens from every angle, drops of it covering the faces of the people in the front row, and still none of it visible on Prince himself. And of course there were two doves scattering themselves above Prince’s head when the sheet came down and he was whole, in front of us again, walking to the mic and asking, ‘Y’all wanna sing tonight?’
Yes, Prince. This is the one we know all of the words to. Throw the microphone to the ground and walk away. We don’t need you now like we did in that moment, but we will remember it always. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called Life. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to cast away another hero on the face of a flood that began on a Miami night in 2007 and never stopped. Dearly beloved, when the sky opens up, anywhere, I will think of how Prince made a storm bend to his will. How the rain never touches those who it knows were sent into it for a higher purpose. Dearly beloved, I will walk into the next storm and leave my umbrella hanging on the door. Please join me.”
Even though I read and enjoyed [title] by Chuck Klosterman, there was definitely a generational divide that kept me from getting really immersed in his essays. Klosterman’s main focus is the music of the 1980’s, which I just don’t know very much about. It feels unoriginal (and a little reductive) to call Abdurraqib the Chuck Klosterman for Millennials, but if you were to ask me for my elevator pitch for They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us, that would be it. Abdurraqib writes about music that I have a much more personal relationship with, so I enjoyed his essays a lot more than Klosterman’s.
But to reduce Abduraqib to just a music or pop culture critic is to undersell the brilliance of his writing. Abdurraqib isn’t just writing about music; he��s writing about how music seeps into every aspect of our lives, and how it can shape and change our experiences. Abdurraqib doesn’t just write about concerts he attended; he writes about how it feels to be one of the few black kids at a punk concert. He writes about Fleetwood Mac and how artists commidify heartbreak (“At some point, a person figured out that the performance of sadness was a currency, and art has bowed at its altar ever since. Sometimes it’s a game we play: if I can convince you that I am falling apart, in need of love, perhaps I can draw you close enough to tell you what I really need.”). He writes about the concert he was at when the news came out about Trayvon Martin, and how nobody could get cell service inside the venue so when the show ended everyone was standing in the parking lot, staring at their phones as they read the news. He writes about the history of Fall Out Boy, and it becomes an exploration of ego and fame and then Abdurraqib makes it circle back to the beginning of the essay, when he wrote about an old friend who committed suicide.
“Patrick [Stump] once said, ‘I sang because Pete [Wentz] saw, in me, a singer,” and I think what he meant is that Pete saw, in him, a vehicle. This was the band’s great fascinating pull. That they were a bit of a mutation: a shy and otherwise silent frontman with a voice like a soul singer, belting out the confessional emo lyrics of a neurotic narcissist. Pete, who wanted the attention, but not enough to sing the words himself. I’m thinking about this again in a bar in Austin, Texas. Wearing a patch taken from my dead friend’s old bedroom, and considering the things we saw in each other that kept us whole for our brief window of time together. Tyler fought kids who fucked with us at punk shows because I saw, in him, a fighter. Until he stopped getting out of bed some mornings and I told myself that I saw, in him, a burden. Until the dirt was shoveled over the black casket and I saw, in him, nothing but a collection of memories.”
Music is so much more than just music.
Hopefully I’ve raved about this book enough to convince you to go out and buy a copy, but just in case, I’m going to quote the end of Abdurraqib’s (fucking transcendent) essay on Prince’s performance at the 2007 SuperBowl halftime show. If you’re not familiar with it, please watch this video and then come back to the review.
“There is no moment like this one in any other halftime show, before it or since. Prince, only a shadow, putting his hands to an instrument and coaxing out a song within a song. And of course there was still rain, beads of it covering the camera lens from every angle, drops of it covering the faces of the people in the front row, and still none of it visible on Prince himself. And of course there were two doves scattering themselves above Prince’s head when the sheet came down and he was whole, in front of us again, walking to the mic and asking, ‘Y’all wanna sing tonight?’
Yes, Prince. This is the one we know all of the words to. Throw the microphone to the ground and walk away. We don’t need you now like we did in that moment, but we will remember it always. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing called Life. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to cast away another hero on the face of a flood that began on a Miami night in 2007 and never stopped. Dearly beloved, when the sky opens up, anywhere, I will think of how Prince made a storm bend to his will. How the rain never touches those who it knows were sent into it for a higher purpose. Dearly beloved, I will walk into the next storm and leave my umbrella hanging on the door. Please join me.”
January 4, 2019
I’ve never read anything like this. This is everything I never knew that music writing could be. I’ve never read this type of music writing in say, the pages of the rolling stone or anywhere else that’s popular. Our particular experiences as young black music writers, purveyors and absorbers of the culture, are not given the space to take shape and breathe like this and I love that Hanif Abdurraqib just lets loose what was in his soul on so many different fronts.
As a metalhead, hip-hop fan and a young black woman growing up in a variety of scenes — every essay in this book hit me on levels. The pairing of different styles of music, to different life and coming of age experiences — in relation to race, interpersonal relationships, and his personal familial life experiences is again, the best I’ve ever read. I don’t mind stating that over and over. There are highs and lows here story wise, but no filler.
I love the continuous Marvin Gaye thread throughout the book.
The juxtaposition of pop culture and his own history is expertly and ingeniously crafted. Johnny Cash as seen in relation to Migos!?? Who would pair these stories together? A genius would! I’m here for it! Fall Out Boy as a retrospective of suicide and death - the insight is powerful.
This book really just hit me so hard and Hanif Abdurraqib is a talented writer with an exceptional intellectual ability to merge experiences and music in a way that’s viscerally astute.
As a metalhead, hip-hop fan and a young black woman growing up in a variety of scenes — every essay in this book hit me on levels. The pairing of different styles of music, to different life and coming of age experiences — in relation to race, interpersonal relationships, and his personal familial life experiences is again, the best I’ve ever read. I don’t mind stating that over and over. There are highs and lows here story wise, but no filler.
I love the continuous Marvin Gaye thread throughout the book.
The juxtaposition of pop culture and his own history is expertly and ingeniously crafted. Johnny Cash as seen in relation to Migos!?? Who would pair these stories together? A genius would! I’m here for it! Fall Out Boy as a retrospective of suicide and death - the insight is powerful.
This book really just hit me so hard and Hanif Abdurraqib is a talented writer with an exceptional intellectual ability to merge experiences and music in a way that’s viscerally astute.
May 17, 2024
There is very little I can say about this one except read it. This collection of essays blends pop culture (usually music, sometimes sports) with Hanif's experience as a Black man in America. It feels especially hard to review this because of how absolutely perfect it is. I have no notes and I have so many lines that I want to share that I’d just end up quoting the whole book. Hanif Abdurraqib is one of the best and this book was filled to the brim of essays about love, music, sports, pain, racism, suicide, and everything combined and he uses the juxtaposition between enjoying music and experiencing very real racism or seeing another black person unjustly killed so well. Every single essay is 5/5 stars and this is one of the most emotional books I have ever read. I would highly recommend checking out the audiobook as Abdurraqib reads the essays himself which adds another layer of emotions (and insights as it was recorded years after it was written). If you take any recommendation from me, please let it be this one. I will leave you with a list of my favorites, some of which you can find early versions of if you search them.
Favorites (in order of appearance):
“A Night In Bruce Springsteen’s America”
“I Wasn’t Brought Here, I Was Born: Surviving Punk Rock Long Enough To Find Afropunk”
“Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die”
“Death Becomes You: My Chemical Romance And Ten Years Of The Black Parade”
“Fall Out Boy Forever”
“Tell ’Em All To Come And Get Me”
“February 26, 2012”
“In The Summer Of 1997, Everyone Took To The Streets In Shiny Suits”
“August 9, 2014”
“Fear In Two Winters”
“My First Police Stop”
“They Will Speak Loudest Of You After You’re Gone”
“Nov 22, 2014”
“On Summer Crushing”
Favorites (in order of appearance):
“A Night In Bruce Springsteen’s America”
“I Wasn’t Brought Here, I Was Born: Surviving Punk Rock Long Enough To Find Afropunk”
“Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die”
“Death Becomes You: My Chemical Romance And Ten Years Of The Black Parade”
“Fall Out Boy Forever”
“Tell ’Em All To Come And Get Me”
“February 26, 2012”
“In The Summer Of 1997, Everyone Took To The Streets In Shiny Suits”
“August 9, 2014”
“Fear In Two Winters”
“My First Police Stop”
“They Will Speak Loudest Of You After You’re Gone”
“Nov 22, 2014”
“On Summer Crushing”
January 16, 2019
"I'm not as invested in things getting better as I am in things getting honest."
▫️▫️▫️
Hanif Abdurraqib's essay collection 'They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us' was a stunner. Many pieces are about popular music and musicians - Chance the Rapper, Fall Out Boy, Bruce Springsteen, The Migos, and Johnny Cash - relating certain songs or memories of a live show to larger life subjects like death and grief, race, religion, and growing up.
Abdurraqib is a poet, and his essays show this background. Beautiful quotes and such care with word choice. Can't wait to see what he does next.
Also, best cover for my 2018 reads 🐺 brilliant design.
4/5
▫️▫️▫️
Hanif Abdurraqib's essay collection 'They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us' was a stunner. Many pieces are about popular music and musicians - Chance the Rapper, Fall Out Boy, Bruce Springsteen, The Migos, and Johnny Cash - relating certain songs or memories of a live show to larger life subjects like death and grief, race, religion, and growing up.
Abdurraqib is a poet, and his essays show this background. Beautiful quotes and such care with word choice. Can't wait to see what he does next.
Also, best cover for my 2018 reads 🐺 brilliant design.
4/5
April 5, 2022
Y’all know I don’t rate books on here, because I sometimes feel like it doesn’t allow me to have nuanced thoughts about something and also numbers to quantify someone else’s life work when maybe it just ~wasn’t for me~ feels weird to me! (I overthink everything even goodreads star reviews!)
But this is an easy 5 stars. Hanif Abdurraqib’s voice has been one I have admired and loved and drowned in (in the best way) since finding his spoken word on YouTube in middle school and this book of incredible essays tackling music, sports, culture, and the personal: grief, friendship, fear, being Black in America, etc. is another addition to his growing collection of culture-honoring and culture-shifting work.
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: I am incredibly grateful to live in a world where I get to experience his work.
GodDAMN, this was good.
But this is an easy 5 stars. Hanif Abdurraqib’s voice has been one I have admired and loved and drowned in (in the best way) since finding his spoken word on YouTube in middle school and this book of incredible essays tackling music, sports, culture, and the personal: grief, friendship, fear, being Black in America, etc. is another addition to his growing collection of culture-honoring and culture-shifting work.
If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times: I am incredibly grateful to live in a world where I get to experience his work.
GodDAMN, this was good.
January 29, 2023
I struggled to decide if this was a 4 or 5-star read for me. Abdurraqib is brilliant. The two books of his that I read before this one were absolutely 5-star reads . Part of my problem is the comparison with Go Ahead in the Rain and A Little Devil in America. Both of those books are so consistently exceptional, so surefooted, it creates a really high bar. This book is also brilliant but less surefooted than those I read before (but which were written and published after this book.) There are some pieces in here that are among the best I have read of his. While all of Abdurraqib's work is personal, there are essays in this collection that are astonishingly intimate and which really touched me. The story toward the end of seeing himself on the front of his hometown paper and weeping in an airport store while thinking about the fact he could not show the article to his late mother on this, her birthday broke me. Here he was weeping about how proud she would be and no one saw his tears, they just saw a Black man lingering; the story was infuriating and beautiful all at once. The essay about processing the loss of a friend to suicide, a friend who apologized on Facebook for letting the sadness win, reached inside of me and made me think about a similar loss from years ago. So much was great. Actually my biggest issue was with Abduraib's comments on the stories. (This might only exist on the audio.). He disclaims or reframes a lot of what he wrote just a few years earlier based upon the stories' subjects later revealed activities and his evolving knowledge. It weakened every point he was trying to make. He needs to worry less about what other's think of him and allow his words to shine in their own time capsules.
In the end, there were enough 5-star essays and poems, many where he lays bare his soul, that I had to go for the 5-star. But I have to qualify that by noting that it is a weaker 5 than the other two books I have read. Still, even if I actively resisted feeling empathy, these essays created understanding where there was none. They are masterfully crafted irresistible forces for empathy, and today that gets him a 5.
In the end, there were enough 5-star essays and poems, many where he lays bare his soul, that I had to go for the 5-star. But I have to qualify that by noting that it is a weaker 5 than the other two books I have read. Still, even if I actively resisted feeling empathy, these essays created understanding where there was none. They are masterfully crafted irresistible forces for empathy, and today that gets him a 5.
February 20, 2023
I have read hundreds of books over the years but i have never been stopped in my tracks and absolutely shattered by a single paragraph like this before.
“When people in America are faced with confronting and accepting the evolving landscape of human gender and sexuality, one of the earliest cries often heard is “how will I explain this to my children?” People become so caught up in a child’s understanding of a world much larger than their own, one that, I imagine, they are in no great rush to understand. I think of these people, eager to burden their children with their own discomforts, every time there is a mass shooting. Their question is often posed as “How will I explain this person in the bathroom to my child?” Or “How will I explain those two people kissing to my child?” but rarely, How will I explain to my child that people die and we do nothing? How do we explain to a child that children have been buried and we were sad but could not let go of our principles and our history and the violence that is born and reborn from it - that we cling to our guns, those small deadly gods, more tightly than our neighbors?”
“When people in America are faced with confronting and accepting the evolving landscape of human gender and sexuality, one of the earliest cries often heard is “how will I explain this to my children?” People become so caught up in a child’s understanding of a world much larger than their own, one that, I imagine, they are in no great rush to understand. I think of these people, eager to burden their children with their own discomforts, every time there is a mass shooting. Their question is often posed as “How will I explain this person in the bathroom to my child?” Or “How will I explain those two people kissing to my child?” but rarely, How will I explain to my child that people die and we do nothing? How do we explain to a child that children have been buried and we were sad but could not let go of our principles and our history and the violence that is born and reborn from it - that we cling to our guns, those small deadly gods, more tightly than our neighbors?”
December 12, 2017
There are some books, man. Some books that just make you stop every few minutes and stare and close your eyes and let the unpunctuated words echo around a bit in your head and where every few chapters you've gotta steel yourself when you feel the feels. Prose as poetry, and when you're done you'll feel like you know Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib like you know your closest friends. This is one that sticks with you.
December 31, 2022
I think this work is generation-defining. While the author and I have little in common socio-economically, what we do have in common is a set of years into which we arrived at adulthood, and a series of events that create markers in my memory. He speaks so beautifully on so much of the culture we share. I instantly bought this as a gift and listened again to it.
Read
September 7, 2017Poet, writer, and critic Willis-Abdurraqib has written a series of smart essays about music and his thoughts and feelings about it in relation to current events and culture, including the Springsteen concert he attended the day after visiting Michael Brown’s grave and seeing PDA at a Carly Rae Jepsen show. AND THAT COVER. W-o-w!
– Liberty Hardy
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– Liberty Hardy
------------
Tune in to our weekly podcast dedicated to all things new books, All The Books: https://bookriot.com/listen/shows/all...
September 12, 2018
This is, single-handedly, the greatest music/culture book I have ever read. Two essays in and I felt that; two essays in and I was recommending it far and wide. It sustained across the whole collection. Hanif writes in a way that blows music out beyond a sub-culture; it's true that it bleeds into everyday life, but to see it articulated in such a way is surreal and fantastic as a reader and a music fan. He is basically what every music writer should aspire to, imo. He makes you feel a lot, even when talking about artists you're only passingly into. As I saw many of the bands I grew up alongside featuring in the collection, I flicked back to the contents to see what else was to come: seeing that a writer of this calibre wrote about my favourite and formative band (My Chemical Romance) was almost unsettling. Am I ready to see the music that meant so much written about in such an emotive and powerful way? (I wasn't, but I read it anyway and - surprise - it was incredible.)
This is an absolute must-read for anyone who likes music. It tackles everything from the most pressing issues of the day, to the little idiosyncrasies of the individual, all through the lens of culture. I will never shut up about this book - just warning you.
This is an absolute must-read for anyone who likes music. It tackles everything from the most pressing issues of the day, to the little idiosyncrasies of the individual, all through the lens of culture. I will never shut up about this book - just warning you.
Read
January 14, 2018An outstanding collection of essays about music, race, and life in contemporary America. Hanif is a black Muslim who grew up in Columbus, Ohio, and his writing on being who he is in that Midwest space is out of this world good.
All of the essays have a connection to pop culture, and most to music, and it doesn't matter whether you know or like any of the thematic threadings of the pieces. They're about much, much more.
(And that Carly Rae Jepson piece!)
Those who love and laud Roxane Gay would do really well to pick this up, too.
All of the essays have a connection to pop culture, and most to music, and it doesn't matter whether you know or like any of the thematic threadings of the pieces. They're about much, much more.
(And that Carly Rae Jepson piece!)
Those who love and laud Roxane Gay would do really well to pick this up, too.
January 29, 2022
5 stars plus infinity. I laughed, cried, reflected, raged, felt both massive guilt and massive pride. I have never read something so emotionally raw and truthful. I do not have the gift for words that Hanif does, so it is absolutely impossible for me to review this. All I can say is that I am grateful that this beautiful man shared his soul. I will read this book over and over.
September 18, 2022
his tone is such a comforting sadness. one of my favorite books ever probably and i can not wait to read the rest of his work wow wow
February 21, 2018
I can't adequately describe how much or just why I love this book so much. Hanif Abdurraqib writes so powerfully and with such insight about all the things we as a nation are grappling with right now.
[A note to potential readers: I loved this book out of the gate but a few essays about emo bands about 80 or so pages in gave me a bit of a stumble near the middle of the book, and I almost didn't finish. What a tremendous mistake that would have been. Perhaps I have been watching too much Olympic downhill skiing, but this book just gains power as it moves forward.]
The density of insight, observation, and challenges to do better beg for multiple readings. I kept wanting to read the next essay but knew I wasn't taking adequate time to synthesize all the knowledge getting dropped on me at every turn.
Read this now!
[A note to potential readers: I loved this book out of the gate but a few essays about emo bands about 80 or so pages in gave me a bit of a stumble near the middle of the book, and I almost didn't finish. What a tremendous mistake that would have been. Perhaps I have been watching too much Olympic downhill skiing, but this book just gains power as it moves forward.]
The density of insight, observation, and challenges to do better beg for multiple readings. I kept wanting to read the next essay but knew I wasn't taking adequate time to synthesize all the knowledge getting dropped on me at every turn.
Read this now!
March 10, 2019
Ok. This is going to be a long one. I fully expected to love this book, and in certain spots I really did, so I felt like it deserved an honest explanation of why i only gave it two stars.
For starters, I was disappointed Abdurraqib picked mostly music I didn’t know. In and of itself, this should not have presented much of a problem, as a good critique will often give me an understanding of what makes the item being appraised important, and will also make me want to experience that item myself. This did not happen in They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us. Throughout the book, I felt apathetic toward the vast majority of the music, even that which I already knew. This took on less importance as the book progressed into talking about icons of pop culture.
The thing that dragged me, time and again, out of listening to what Abdurraqib had to say was, perhaps surprisingly, his own voice. Abdurraqib is certainly capable of stringing words together prettily, but when one actually examines his sentences rather than skimming through them, they are revealed far too often to be vague, unclear, or sometimes, unfortunately, just vacuous nonsense. Abdurraqib seemed to be trying so hard to write something beautiful that his point frequently got lost in the wordy and stylistic excess.
For example, I jotted down the following sentence toward the end of the book: “Real power, I am reminded, doesn’t need a new reason to stop pretending to be what it actually is underneath.” At first glance what he’s saying seems clear, but if one were to remove the double negative and unnecessary modifiers, the sentence would read, “Real power will always pretend to be what it is.” What? It’s not a pretense if it’s showing itself as what it is. Vague and convoluted sentences like this litter the pages of this book. They sound nice, but when I actually read them more carefully, I realized, in most cases, they weren’t actually saying anything.
The thing that frustrates me is there is some good stuff in here. When Abdurraqib forgets about trying to be profound and talks about a formative or enlightening event, either in his own life or in the lives of the icons he is examining, that writing is extremely good. However, less than a page after relating an experience that broadened my worldview, Abdurraqib would often draw a conclusion or make a point about it that would dull its impact or limit its interpretation. The thing I really enjoyed about his writing was the smattering of disjointed observations, when he trusted the strength of the experiences to make his point for him, instead of relying on several paragraphs of verbose exhibition to make the moral of the story explicit.
Clearly Abdurraqib does not need my affirmation; this essay collection has done extremely well. I only wish the gems of his wisdom were not obscured by needless artistic effects and interjections; if the writing were slightly simplified, this could have been a profound work of incomparable beauty.
For starters, I was disappointed Abdurraqib picked mostly music I didn’t know. In and of itself, this should not have presented much of a problem, as a good critique will often give me an understanding of what makes the item being appraised important, and will also make me want to experience that item myself. This did not happen in They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us. Throughout the book, I felt apathetic toward the vast majority of the music, even that which I already knew. This took on less importance as the book progressed into talking about icons of pop culture.
The thing that dragged me, time and again, out of listening to what Abdurraqib had to say was, perhaps surprisingly, his own voice. Abdurraqib is certainly capable of stringing words together prettily, but when one actually examines his sentences rather than skimming through them, they are revealed far too often to be vague, unclear, or sometimes, unfortunately, just vacuous nonsense. Abdurraqib seemed to be trying so hard to write something beautiful that his point frequently got lost in the wordy and stylistic excess.
For example, I jotted down the following sentence toward the end of the book: “Real power, I am reminded, doesn’t need a new reason to stop pretending to be what it actually is underneath.” At first glance what he’s saying seems clear, but if one were to remove the double negative and unnecessary modifiers, the sentence would read, “Real power will always pretend to be what it is.” What? It’s not a pretense if it’s showing itself as what it is. Vague and convoluted sentences like this litter the pages of this book. They sound nice, but when I actually read them more carefully, I realized, in most cases, they weren’t actually saying anything.
The thing that frustrates me is there is some good stuff in here. When Abdurraqib forgets about trying to be profound and talks about a formative or enlightening event, either in his own life or in the lives of the icons he is examining, that writing is extremely good. However, less than a page after relating an experience that broadened my worldview, Abdurraqib would often draw a conclusion or make a point about it that would dull its impact or limit its interpretation. The thing I really enjoyed about his writing was the smattering of disjointed observations, when he trusted the strength of the experiences to make his point for him, instead of relying on several paragraphs of verbose exhibition to make the moral of the story explicit.
Clearly Abdurraqib does not need my affirmation; this essay collection has done extremely well. I only wish the gems of his wisdom were not obscured by needless artistic effects and interjections; if the writing were slightly simplified, this could have been a profound work of incomparable beauty.
May 6, 2024
Imma need Hanif to update the audiobook with a chapter on the current diss track discourse
September 17, 2017
I've read five stellar essay collections that came out in 2017 and this one might sit at the top of the pile. Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib has this way of laying out whatever it is he wants to discuss, then beautifully diving into it and taking the reader in directions they weren't expecting, but that all end up feeling totally right. Seeing Bruce Springsteen in 2016 turns into a meditation on something much bigger than simply seeing a rockstar; Ric Flair, growing up Black in the 1990s, Chance the Rapper, Fall Out Boy and so much more. I'd say this is a book of mostly essays on music, but that puts They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us into a box it totally doesn't deserve to be in. These are essays about living and trying to survive in America and they're brilliantly filtered through music and pop culture in a way that makes me think Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib is one of our great voices that everybody should pay attention to.
November 2, 2022
Do yourself a favour and READ THIS BOOK, or LISTEN TO IT which is even better. Hanif Abdurraqib has put his heart and soul into these essays, making this book an instant hit for readers like me who crave honesty and emotions. This collection of essays is rich in American music, African American culture, and the grief of an entire suppressed race. The writing makes you feel so many emotions at the same time - anger and joy, and especially despair and hope. Listening to Abdurraqib narrate his experiences felt so pure. I know I should stop because I'm overdoing adjectives, but I'm feeling a cyclone of emotions whirling inside me. Please don't let my inability to express my love for this book overshadow this review, and for heaven's sake, grab this audiobook.
Thanks to OrangeSky Audio and NetGalley for the ALC.
Publication Date: November 15th, 2022.
TW: Racism, Injustice, Death, Grief, and Heartbreak.
Thanks to OrangeSky Audio and NetGalley for the ALC.
Publication Date: November 15th, 2022.
TW: Racism, Injustice, Death, Grief, and Heartbreak.
February 4, 2024
This is the best book I have and will read in 2024.
I want to make a full video review on the book, so I will share the link once I do.
But in summary "Welcome to the Black Parade" we are sad to see you.
Update:
Link to video review: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C27v7f...
Additional thoughts:
✨ I could spend the rest of my days reading and listening to his words, seeing the world through his eyes. They Cant Kill Us Until They Kill Us is a book I will never forget.
✨His discussion on blackness in tbe Punk/Emo Scene spoke to my own experience as a woman of color who’s obsessed with a genre that ignores her presence unless it is as an object to gawk at.
✨His connection to his Muslim identity and Blackness were beautifully explored throughout the book.
✨Hanif is the kind of writer that will not allow you to hide from the ugliness of the world but will remind you that you are still worthy of being present. He is unafraid in his criticism, as well as in his discussions of love, emotions, and connections.
✨I loved this book so much I even listened to the acknowledgments because I never wanted it to end.
TW: suicide, racism, death, parental death, drug use, violence.
I want to make a full video review on the book, so I will share the link once I do.
But in summary "Welcome to the Black Parade" we are sad to see you.
Update:
Link to video review: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C27v7f...
Additional thoughts:
✨ I could spend the rest of my days reading and listening to his words, seeing the world through his eyes. They Cant Kill Us Until They Kill Us is a book I will never forget.
✨His discussion on blackness in tbe Punk/Emo Scene spoke to my own experience as a woman of color who’s obsessed with a genre that ignores her presence unless it is as an object to gawk at.
✨His connection to his Muslim identity and Blackness were beautifully explored throughout the book.
✨Hanif is the kind of writer that will not allow you to hide from the ugliness of the world but will remind you that you are still worthy of being present. He is unafraid in his criticism, as well as in his discussions of love, emotions, and connections.
✨I loved this book so much I even listened to the acknowledgments because I never wanted it to end.
TW: suicide, racism, death, parental death, drug use, violence.
November 22, 2018
Did you feel my absence, Goodreads friends? I haven't been here in a while, it seems like I haven't been able to finish a book since September, a month that coincided with me finishing the Neapolitan Novels and moving away from my hometown for the first time. I tried to move on since Ferrante, but her unyielding prose put other author's words to shame and put me in a slump like no other, one that coincided with me being unemployed and cursed with reader's block.
They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us is the first book I've been able to finish in that slump, a collection that reinvigorated my literary senses. I've never read a collection of cultural criticism quite like this. Abdurraqib is a poet, a clever one at that. It shows, whether he is writing about Pete Wentz or Sandra Bland. His talent lies in the juxtaposition of his essays and the twists they take; for instance, making the connection between Migos in one paragraph and Johnny Cash in the next seem natural, logical, inevitable - Why did I never think about it like that before?
Stand out essays for me were "Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die," "Fall Out Boy Forever," "February 26, 2012," and "On Future And Working Through What Hurts." The only essay that flatlined for me was the one about Fleetwood Mac, but to paraphrase Meatloaf, 42 out of 43 ain't bad.
They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us is the first book I've been able to finish in that slump, a collection that reinvigorated my literary senses. I've never read a collection of cultural criticism quite like this. Abdurraqib is a poet, a clever one at that. It shows, whether he is writing about Pete Wentz or Sandra Bland. His talent lies in the juxtaposition of his essays and the twists they take; for instance, making the connection between Migos in one paragraph and Johnny Cash in the next seem natural, logical, inevitable - Why did I never think about it like that before?
Stand out essays for me were "Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die," "Fall Out Boy Forever," "February 26, 2012," and "On Future And Working Through What Hurts." The only essay that flatlined for me was the one about Fleetwood Mac, but to paraphrase Meatloaf, 42 out of 43 ain't bad.
Read
April 28, 2022A beautiful body of work, They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us is a collection of essays about music, race, and life in modern America. Hanif Abdurraqib has an incredible voice and weaves personal stories with pop culture and the difficult to discuss realities of America. Even if you are not interested in the pop culture aspect, the essays are about much more than what is on the surface. My personal favorite essay is Fall Out Boy Forever. -Jenny L.
November 15, 2020
I was not fully prepared for how good this collection was going to be. Sure, I saw good reviews. But not until I started reading did I realize how well-crafted every sentence is. Each essay moved me through a whole story. Typically, Abdurraqib starts with a life story that quickly brings in the element of music belonging to that time in his life. Even if you don’t know the band(s) and album(s)/song(s) in the particular story, you fully understand the connection that Abdurraqib is making.
I had so many shreds of yellow post-it stickies on profound sentences that I finally just had to stop. I obviously need to buy my own copy of this book. Maybe I would underline/highlight items, but I would like to be able to loan this book to friends and have them pick up their OWN pearls and not get distracted by that which seemed important to me. For this book can appeal in different ways to different people, even at different times in their life, the way great books can. So even my own re-reading of this book eventually, I would not want to distract even myself with my gold nuggets found on that day.
I feel like I should write a separate review for every single one of these 43 essays. The book is beautiful in the ability to read one of these in-between reading other books. I found myself saving special reading time in the evening in my favorite chair for these when I know my concentration is at its best. There is even slam-poetry style stories, with no capital letters or use of a period, and every sentence simply connected with & Some of the “I” and “II” might be 1-page, and there is the occasional 10-page story, so I might read a couple. But I found I had to check this book out from my local library on multiple occasions to finish this book since I found myself savoring this slowly.
All of these are so incredibly readable and relatable. You can feel the pattern in each story:
Act 1 where you may not yet see the connections but you better be paying attention because this ALL has meaning
Act 2 where all the powerful connections of music and life and friends all are made known
Act 3 the finale where wisdom is imparted without preaching to you as you get goose-bumps of realization of what you have just read and its personal meaning to you, the reader.
I almost would not want this book at the beach, where I like long single-story-books with multiple characters. This is great for in-between study and classes for busy students, or anyone with small 10' segments of time. Read a story, then take the proper time to digest its meaning(s)!
There are 43 essays here. Even the “I”, II”, etc are short essays.
CONTENTS
I.
Chance The Rapper's Golden Year
A Night In Bruce Springsteen's America
Carly Rae Jepsen Loves You Back
The Night Prince Walked On Water
ScHoolboy Q Wants White People To Say The Word
The Weeknd And The Future Of Loveless Sex
II.
I Wasn't Brought Here, I Was Born: Surviving Punk Rock Long Enough To Find Afropunk
Under Half-Lit Fluorescents: The Wonder Years And The Great Suburban Narrative
All Our Friends Are Famous
The Return Of The Loneliest Boys In Town
Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die
Searching For A New Kind Of Optimism Death Becomes You: My Chemical Romance And Ten Years Of The Black Parade
Defiance, Ohio Is The Name Of A Band
III.
Fall Out Boy Forever
IV.
Ric Flair, Best Rapper Alive
It Rained In Ohio On The Night Allen Iverson Hit Michael Jordan With A Crossover
There Is The Picture Of Michael Jackson Kissing Whitney Houston On The Cheek
Black Lift On Film
Tell 'Em All To Come And Get Me
Burning That Which Will Not Save You: Wipe Me Down And The Ballad Of Baton Rouge
Rumours And The Currency Of Heartbreak
V.
February 26, 2012
On Kindness
In The Summer Of 1997, Everyone Took To The Streets In Shiny Suits
Nina Simone Was Very Black Blood Summer, In Three Parts.
August 9, 2014
Fear In Two Winters
On Paris
My First Police Stop
Serena Williams And The Policing Of lmagined Arrogance
They Will Speak Loudest of You After You've Gone
Johnny Cash Never Shot A Man In Reno. Or, The Migos: Nice Kids From The Suburbs
The Obama White House, A Brief Home For Rappers
The White Rapper Joke
On Future And Working Through What Hurts
November 22, 2014
Surviving On Small Joys
VI.
Notes for me…
Here are some of my yellow-sticky-note quotes. Like I said – I had to give up doing this since they were CONSTANT throughout this book.
P18 Staring down the life you have left and claiming it as you own, living it to the best of your ability before the clock runs out.
P18 The ability to make the most out of your life, because it’s the only life you have.
P24 Even in a city that makes you feel small, there is someone waiting to fall in love with you.
P26 This is the difficult work: convincing a room full of people to set their sadness aside and, for a night, bring out whatever joy remains underneath – in a world where there is so much grief to be had, leadin the people to water and letting them drink from your cupped hands.
P26 Sometime around the third song of Jepsen’s set, I started to notice people kissing. One couple first, and then another, and then another. This continued for the remainder of the show.
P28 “I remember [broadcast producer] Don [Mischer] said, ‘Put me on the phone with Prince.’ Don says, ‘Now, I want you to know it’s raining.’ And Prince is like, ‘Yes, it’s raining.’ [Don said], ‘And are you okay?’ and Prince is like, ‘Can you make it rain harder?’”
P30 The crown jewel…
P41 2p, The kind of sex…
P51 4p, What I imagine to be …
P56 2pmid To often, the choice between…
P38 2p That love is the greater…
P58 end I don’t know how to be honest…
P61 1p Not lost and anxious…
P62 1p I understand …
P62 20mid “Summers in PA” could …
P73 endbigPara “Teasing to Please,” watching the show…
P77 p1 upper3rd There will always be something great…
P77 late bot3rd All thing do not pass. Sometimes, that…
P79 My Friends and I were wrong about …
P81 lastP I have been thinking…
P89 1P I imagine my fondest memories…
P108 midP In some Rolling Stone …
P109 2P It’s easy to convince people…
I had so many shreds of yellow post-it stickies on profound sentences that I finally just had to stop. I obviously need to buy my own copy of this book. Maybe I would underline/highlight items, but I would like to be able to loan this book to friends and have them pick up their OWN pearls and not get distracted by that which seemed important to me. For this book can appeal in different ways to different people, even at different times in their life, the way great books can. So even my own re-reading of this book eventually, I would not want to distract even myself with my gold nuggets found on that day.
I feel like I should write a separate review for every single one of these 43 essays. The book is beautiful in the ability to read one of these in-between reading other books. I found myself saving special reading time in the evening in my favorite chair for these when I know my concentration is at its best. There is even slam-poetry style stories, with no capital letters or use of a period, and every sentence simply connected with & Some of the “I” and “II” might be 1-page, and there is the occasional 10-page story, so I might read a couple. But I found I had to check this book out from my local library on multiple occasions to finish this book since I found myself savoring this slowly.
All of these are so incredibly readable and relatable. You can feel the pattern in each story:
Act 1 where you may not yet see the connections but you better be paying attention because this ALL has meaning
Act 2 where all the powerful connections of music and life and friends all are made known
Act 3 the finale where wisdom is imparted without preaching to you as you get goose-bumps of realization of what you have just read and its personal meaning to you, the reader.
I almost would not want this book at the beach, where I like long single-story-books with multiple characters. This is great for in-between study and classes for busy students, or anyone with small 10' segments of time. Read a story, then take the proper time to digest its meaning(s)!
There are 43 essays here. Even the “I”, II”, etc are short essays.
CONTENTS
I.
Chance The Rapper's Golden Year
A Night In Bruce Springsteen's America
Carly Rae Jepsen Loves You Back
The Night Prince Walked On Water
ScHoolboy Q Wants White People To Say The Word
The Weeknd And The Future Of Loveless Sex
II.
I Wasn't Brought Here, I Was Born: Surviving Punk Rock Long Enough To Find Afropunk
Under Half-Lit Fluorescents: The Wonder Years And The Great Suburban Narrative
All Our Friends Are Famous
The Return Of The Loneliest Boys In Town
Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die
Searching For A New Kind Of Optimism Death Becomes You: My Chemical Romance And Ten Years Of The Black Parade
Defiance, Ohio Is The Name Of A Band
III.
Fall Out Boy Forever
IV.
Ric Flair, Best Rapper Alive
It Rained In Ohio On The Night Allen Iverson Hit Michael Jordan With A Crossover
There Is The Picture Of Michael Jackson Kissing Whitney Houston On The Cheek
Black Lift On Film
Tell 'Em All To Come And Get Me
Burning That Which Will Not Save You: Wipe Me Down And The Ballad Of Baton Rouge
Rumours And The Currency Of Heartbreak
V.
February 26, 2012
On Kindness
In The Summer Of 1997, Everyone Took To The Streets In Shiny Suits
Nina Simone Was Very Black Blood Summer, In Three Parts.
August 9, 2014
Fear In Two Winters
On Paris
My First Police Stop
Serena Williams And The Policing Of lmagined Arrogance
They Will Speak Loudest of You After You've Gone
Johnny Cash Never Shot A Man In Reno. Or, The Migos: Nice Kids From The Suburbs
The Obama White House, A Brief Home For Rappers
The White Rapper Joke
On Future And Working Through What Hurts
November 22, 2014
Surviving On Small Joys
VI.
Notes for me…
Here are some of my yellow-sticky-note quotes. Like I said – I had to give up doing this since they were CONSTANT throughout this book.
P18 Staring down the life you have left and claiming it as you own, living it to the best of your ability before the clock runs out.
P18 The ability to make the most out of your life, because it’s the only life you have.
P24 Even in a city that makes you feel small, there is someone waiting to fall in love with you.
P26 This is the difficult work: convincing a room full of people to set their sadness aside and, for a night, bring out whatever joy remains underneath – in a world where there is so much grief to be had, leadin the people to water and letting them drink from your cupped hands.
P26 Sometime around the third song of Jepsen’s set, I started to notice people kissing. One couple first, and then another, and then another. This continued for the remainder of the show.
P28 “I remember [broadcast producer] Don [Mischer] said, ‘Put me on the phone with Prince.’ Don says, ‘Now, I want you to know it’s raining.’ And Prince is like, ‘Yes, it’s raining.’ [Don said], ‘And are you okay?’ and Prince is like, ‘Can you make it rain harder?’”
P30 The crown jewel…
P41 2p, The kind of sex…
P51 4p, What I imagine to be …
P56 2pmid To often, the choice between…
P38 2p That love is the greater…
P58 end I don’t know how to be honest…
P61 1p Not lost and anxious…
P62 1p I understand …
P62 20mid “Summers in PA” could …
P73 endbigPara “Teasing to Please,” watching the show…
P77 p1 upper3rd There will always be something great…
P77 late bot3rd All thing do not pass. Sometimes, that…
P79 My Friends and I were wrong about …
P81 lastP I have been thinking…
P89 1P I imagine my fondest memories…
P108 midP In some Rolling Stone …
P109 2P It’s easy to convince people…
December 27, 2021
This is one of the most powerful and enlightening books about race I've ever read. It's also one of the most powerful and enlightening books about music I've ever read. To be able to do those two things at once, and to have one enlighten the other and vice versa, while also inviting the reader in with such a warm voice, like an old friend sharing stories on the porch, without judgement or snobbishness, with an aim at understanding and love is an absolute miracle. That he was able to reach such heights with almost every essay here is astounding.
I think something I've noticed about the way he explains racial misunderstandings is that a lot of times it comes from a lack of context.
It's like a person who has never been hungry looking at someone who is starving and asking "why are you acting this way? Why aren't you using the proper utensils and being proper?" and just not understanding that how they (someone who has been fed) would act is different and not at all relevant to the starving person's predicament.
A lot of this is about survival, and when it's not about survival, it's about joy. About enjoying the moment BECAUSE you never know how long you're gonna get to.
Also: even though some of this music might not be your jam, don't let that deter you. The music writing here served as an eye opening way for me to enter worlds I was not aware of before. Even when I didn't enjoy the same music he's talking about, the essays here made me appreciate where each artist was coming from and how to listen, how differently one can listen (in all senses of that verb: to listen).
Lastly: unlike most books on race, this one actually gives me a strange hopefulness, while still being gut-wrenchingly realistic about the horrible state of the world.
I think something I've noticed about the way he explains racial misunderstandings is that a lot of times it comes from a lack of context.
It's like a person who has never been hungry looking at someone who is starving and asking "why are you acting this way? Why aren't you using the proper utensils and being proper?" and just not understanding that how they (someone who has been fed) would act is different and not at all relevant to the starving person's predicament.
A lot of this is about survival, and when it's not about survival, it's about joy. About enjoying the moment BECAUSE you never know how long you're gonna get to.
Also: even though some of this music might not be your jam, don't let that deter you. The music writing here served as an eye opening way for me to enter worlds I was not aware of before. Even when I didn't enjoy the same music he's talking about, the essays here made me appreciate where each artist was coming from and how to listen, how differently one can listen (in all senses of that verb: to listen).
Lastly: unlike most books on race, this one actually gives me a strange hopefulness, while still being gut-wrenchingly realistic about the horrible state of the world.
February 3, 2024
An absolutely phenomenal book of essays from Hanif Abdurraqib, via Two Dollar Radio. Abdurraqib has a new essay collection coming out in March 2024, so the time seemed right to pull this from the shelf. So glad that I did - I was blown away by this writing. The essays generally start in discussing music or other aspects of pop culture, but they always gravitate towards discussions of race, religion, police violence, otherness, sports, and life in America in the 21st century.
What a voice - can't recommend this highly enough! His upcoming collection is going straight to the top of my must read list.
What a voice - can't recommend this highly enough! His upcoming collection is going straight to the top of my must read list.
January 14, 2019
“Sometimes it isn't what we're battling that takes us, but simply the battle itself.”
.
More of a reaction piece // ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS I’VE EVER HAD THE PLEASURE OF READING. This essay collection is made up of arresting and powerful insights into social issues juxtaposed against the backdrop of popular music (Chance the Rapper, Fall Out Boy, Bruce Springsteen, Migos, My Chemical Romance, Carly Rae Jepsen, etc.) Themes: Abdurraqib talks about being a black kid going to punk rock shows, he talks about addiction and romance and death, he talks about Trump America and xenophobia and the fear of Muslims, he talks about suicide and about getting older, he talks about toxic masculinity, he talks about blackness and whiteness and othering, he talks about childhood, he talks about police brutality and gun violence, he talks about the future. He talks about hope.
.
Reading this was like finally feeling completely understood and heard. EMOTIONS ALERT: I related to observations of being a black kid in spaces where no one else looked like me or having people decide what music I should strictly like or having people look at me like why is he here? I am angry at watching the news and seeing how black bodies are being treated and then forgotten. Frustrated over certain individuals telling us how we should feel and when we should feel it. Tired of being seen in a threatening manner even though I’m the furthest thing from a threat. I know the feeling of losing a friend to suicide and feeling the guilt of not doing more. Then the moment of realizing that it is not about me. I am not explaining this right, and that’s all right. If any of this piqued your interest, check out this book. But there is one other surprise: these essays are all gorgeously written. Lyrical, beautiful, observant, scathing, contemplative, and brave. But this is not the kind of beautiful writing with the trappings of empty meaning. Every essay will make you sigh and then say, hmm. Maybe because he hit the nail on the head or he said something you hadn’t thought about before or maybe he said it a whole lot better than you ever could. Hmmm.
.
More of a reaction piece // ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS I’VE EVER HAD THE PLEASURE OF READING. This essay collection is made up of arresting and powerful insights into social issues juxtaposed against the backdrop of popular music (Chance the Rapper, Fall Out Boy, Bruce Springsteen, Migos, My Chemical Romance, Carly Rae Jepsen, etc.) Themes: Abdurraqib talks about being a black kid going to punk rock shows, he talks about addiction and romance and death, he talks about Trump America and xenophobia and the fear of Muslims, he talks about suicide and about getting older, he talks about toxic masculinity, he talks about blackness and whiteness and othering, he talks about childhood, he talks about police brutality and gun violence, he talks about the future. He talks about hope.
.
Reading this was like finally feeling completely understood and heard. EMOTIONS ALERT: I related to observations of being a black kid in spaces where no one else looked like me or having people decide what music I should strictly like or having people look at me like why is he here? I am angry at watching the news and seeing how black bodies are being treated and then forgotten. Frustrated over certain individuals telling us how we should feel and when we should feel it. Tired of being seen in a threatening manner even though I’m the furthest thing from a threat. I know the feeling of losing a friend to suicide and feeling the guilt of not doing more. Then the moment of realizing that it is not about me. I am not explaining this right, and that’s all right. If any of this piqued your interest, check out this book. But there is one other surprise: these essays are all gorgeously written. Lyrical, beautiful, observant, scathing, contemplative, and brave. But this is not the kind of beautiful writing with the trappings of empty meaning. Every essay will make you sigh and then say, hmm. Maybe because he hit the nail on the head or he said something you hadn’t thought about before or maybe he said it a whole lot better than you ever could. Hmmm.
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