You know their songs; you know their moves. You might even be able to recite a few of their best anecdotes from late night television. But nothing reveals as much about a musician as their memoir. At once escapist and nostalgic, transporting and scandalous, these books aren't just for diehard fans who can list every track on an album's B-side. Memoirs have a sense of voice that provides a new level of intimacy. Here, we've selected twenty of our favorites, presented in no particular order. Get up close and personal to your favorite performers with these stories of love, loss, and phenomenal music. |
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Thanks to early Memorial Day deals, price drops have already started. |
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Take this quiz to learn how the paper industry supports America's most cherished land. |
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| It's up there as one of my all-time favorites, if not my all-time favorite photo: Almost-five-year-old you wore your pink bike helmet cocked on your head. Your little braids, accented with sky-blue bobbles, fell all around your face. You were seated on your pink-and-purple bike—yeah, we were heavy with the pink theme—in the park around the corner from your mom's townhouse, gripping your handlebars. You looked straight at me, the zealous photographer, with a smile of pure triumph. We took the picture during one of your bike-riding lessons. It ranks as one of my faves because it occurred in the midst of me chasing the impossibility of becoming a writer, a dream that risked 2,500 miles of physical distance—and no telling the size of an emotional chasm—between us, and because those lessons are my earliest memory of daddy-daughter time. For decades, I've believed myself near the limit of dodging danger, that the next thing could be the thing that wreaks the gravest harm. It gives me comfort to know that you are entering the working world braver than I have ever been. |
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| In the wake of the latest Star Wars sequel trilogy, one of the most exciting projects Lucasfilm announced was a film helmed by Damon Lindelof, the creator of Lost and The Leftovers. Though, after April's Star Wars Celebration—where we learned of three new films, none of which involved Lindelof—it became clear that his project would not be moving forward. It's a bummer. Lindelof certainly would have made something compelling. Now, in the latest episode of Esquire's "Explain This," Lindelof revealed for the first time that he did not leave the Star Wars universe by his accord. "I was in more than talks to join the Star Wars universe," Lindelof says. "I joined the Star Wars universe and was asked to leave." |
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| In high school I became, I wouldn't say "addicted," but I was very into male enhancement. My best friend and I would go to the gym together. We got into everything—pre-workout, SARMs, steroids. We tried it all. Putting shit into our bodies and we didn't even know what it was. One day this dude at the gym was like, "Dude, I have this stuff. You gotta try it. It makes you so good in bed." That's how I started using Cialis, which was the gateway into all of this. That solved my performance problem so I started to think about ways that I could make it bigger. I would watch YouTube videos of people saying how much size matters. Thing is, it's true. I don't care what anybody says about the motion of the ocean. To get the top girls, you gotta bring something to the table. |
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