An excellent artifact for Wilco fans, “Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back)” is likely also a worthwhile read for anyone interested in a firsthand look at the music industry as it moved from the label/A&R days into streaming and beyond.

Singer and songwriter Jeff Tweedy walks us through his life, taking us from a rundown, if relatively secure, childhood in Belleville, Illinois to his more elevated experiences playing around in the Wilco loft and making records with his kids. Throughout, he is approachable, candid and often funny.

A good portion of the book is dedicated to the Jays in his life. Jay Farrar, his band co-leader with Uncle Tupelo, is portrayed as distant and withholding, while Jay Bennett, his sparkling Wilco sideman, comes across as warm and addicted (if sometimes scheming).

Tweedy doesn’t shy away from his own addiction and rehab, but his songs are the book’s primary focus. Tweedy admits he isn’t the best singer or guitar player (although I enjoy him in those capacities), but he is an excellent songwriter, prolific, evocative and adaptable. He shares his working method, the core of which seems to be simple, sustained effort.

Tweedy also speaks at length about the anxiety that underlies his mellow public persona, a family trait that seems linked to a tendency to self-medicate. He is game throughout, reliable and generally funny, if prone to a few clunkers in that regard.

Given everything he’s accomplished, though, it’s easy to suspect that he has to be a bit more ambitious than he lets on. The tone in the book is a bit, “aw shucks, it all just happened.” It’s hard to believe it was quite that simple.

But Tweedy shares some real wisdom too, particularly when he reflects that while a band may be important, it’s a temporary arrangement at best, not a blood pact to be preserved at all costs. In one of the blunter moments of the book, Tweedy reflects that he kicked Jay Bennett out of Wilco because he was afraid he was going to die otherwise. It rings true, as does much of his memoir.

Quotes

“When my dad died we put together a playlist of all of ‘his’ songs to play at the funeral home before and after the service. My sons, Spencer and Sammy, fell in love with “Southern Nights” in particular, so after the funeral we drove back to Chicago listening to Glen Campbell in the car. It was beautiful to hear that song through their ears and feel it being liberated from its past, transforming into something with powerful personal meaning for all of us. We just opened the windows and let it blare. And then we got home and learned that Glen Campbell had died. I’m pretty sure we killed Glen Campbell.”

“The look on Jay’s face was tragic. I felt bad for him. This was not a serious vehicle. I’m not sure how we talked him into climbing aboard, and once we did, I have no idea how we got him to stay, because the interior was even worse. White leather, mirrored ceilings, and a purple neon sign in the back lounge informing everyone, in cursive, that they were aboard the ‘Ghost Rider’ lest they forget. So we embarked upon Uncle Tupelo’s last tour learning how to sleep while being shot at eighty miles per hour down the highway inside a metal box that looked like the VIP room at a strip club and made us all feel like we were living inside a cocaine straw.”

Author Jennifer Keishin Armstrong offers a nice inside view into Seinfeld’s origins and impact, taking the series from Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David getting to know one another in New York City’s comedy scene all the way through minor-league baseball “Seinfeld” nights and “Soup Nazi” publicity tours.

The book is at its strongest at the series’ genesis, highlighting the co-creators’ ambivalence toward sitcom tropes and traditional measures of success as well as the series’ unusual creative freedom and climb to success. It’s fun to see the cast fall into place and meet the writers who shaped some of Seinfeld’s most memorable episodes.

Structurally, the book feels a little scattered–the chronology seems to double over itself a few times, and not enough time is spend exploring the series at its peak. Armstrong does a good job not just compiling plots and top lines from the series. Still, it would have been nice to focus more on the core of “Seinfeld’s” success and less on cultural phenomenon/career launchpad it became.