A review by misterjay
Mo' Meta Blues: The World According to Questlove by Ben Greenman, Questlove

5.0

Like a lot of people, I was intrigued when I heard that The Roots would be taking the slot as the house band when Jimmy Fallon took over The Late Show. I knew who they were, of course; you can't skirt the edges of hip-hop and R&B without having run into them at some point. And I liked them even though I'd never made the transition to out and out fan. They were one of those bands that I liked whenever they showed up on something else I was actively paying attention to: a new record by Common or Mos Def, the Dave Chappelle Show, and on and on across the pop culture landscape.

But I didn't know much about them. I had heard the singles, I had seen a few videos, but that was about it until some of their performances on The Late Show began to go viral. The first one I remember really grabbing me and making me sit up and focus was a clip of The Roots backing Eminem during a burn down the house performance of "Won't Back Down." It stuck in my head for two reasons: one, it cemented the idea in my mind that The Roots really were the powerhouse they were rumored to be, and two, holy cats, is that a tuba?

From there, I got sucked more and more into the world of The Roots and of Questlove in particular. First it was a collection of 'likes' on YouTube, then it was a couple of records, and finally, perhaps inevitably, it was following Quest on Twitter and liking the man that seemed to emerge, 140 characters at a time.

So I knew the memoir was coming.

And yet, I wasn't prepared for how charmed I would be as the excerpts and quoted passages began to roll out ahead of the actual publication date. I wasn't sure what I wanted - more stories featuring Eddie Murphy and Prince? Tales of debauchery backstage in London? Maybe something a little salacious featuring Quest's roster of porn star friends (well, ok, maybe just Sasha Grey)? But, this was meant to be a memoir, not a tell-all. This wasn't meant to be Motley Crue's Dirt. On the other hand, as Quest himself notes in the book, a lot of memoirs begin with a birth and then spin out into facts and figures without any real insight into the person behind them.

Plus, there was the title: Mo' Meta Blues. I mean, it's a play on an old Spike Lee movie to begin with, and then, god, isn't meta kind of played out already?

So what kind of book would it be?

It turns out that it's equal parts actual memoir, history of hip-hop, African-American studies, and discourse on the personal connection people can have with music, the book is compulsively readable and accessible. At the same time, the comments, in the form of footnotes, or e-mails from the co-author to the editor, added a look behind the curtain, to see just how the Great and Powerful Quest was writing his book added the titled meta layer without getting in the way of the story.

And like all good narrative non-fiction, there is a story. It's the story of a young kid growing up in love with music and it's the story of how an unlikely pair of friends ended up forming one of the most influential bands in hip-hop, and it's the story of a life lived thoughtfully and with purpose. All of which made me like Quest that much more. Perhaps more importantly, from a commercial point of view, it made me want to run out and buy several hundred records. Not just ones from The Roots, but from the diverse collection known as the Soulquarians, and from the countless jazz, soul, and R&B records Quest talks about.

Hell, the book should have come with a soundtrack.

Maybe the timing was just fortuitous for me. I've been looking for some new music. Not just new music, but for something that would blow my mind and make me appreciate a sound I had been hearing but not hearing. This book provided that and then some; following the connections and reminders and recommendations here could fill up years. And that alone is worth the cover price.

Get this for the music fan in your life and get it for yourself. You'll be richer for it.