I remember the first time I saw Jeff Tweedy. My buddy Brian and I were into this alt-rock supergroup named Golden Smog at the time. To be honest, we were more into Gary Louris of the Jayhawks, which is how we found ourselves at the Legendary Horseshoe Tavern in downtown Toronto for the Weird Tales tour. It was warm in there, but one musician wore a balaclava despite the heat. It was odd, to say the least. About three songs in, Jeff took off his balaclava and stepped up to a mic with his acoustic to play “Pecan Pie.” I was hooked.

Since then, I’ve gone back through the Uncle Tupelo Albums, forward through all the Wilco incarnations, and caught up with Loose Fur and the Woody Guthrie project along the way. I’ve watched Wilco open for Neil Young at the Air Canada Centre and headline the Fox Theatre in Detroit on their Sky Blue Sky tour. I dug Sukairae and have WARM in heavy rotation. I can’t stop listening.

When I heard about Tweedy’s memoir, I knew it was a must-read. It didn’t disappoint. I now know what made that loud thumping sound at the end of “Being There” and the noisy chaos of “Misunderstood.” Little details like that really satisfy a long-time listener.

This is an honest memoir. Everything from the pain of band break-ups to struggles with addiction and recovery are shared. Tweedy even uses dialogue with his wife and son to clarify his perspective within the narrative. Very postmodern.

Need I say more? If you’re into Wilco, you’ll want to read this book.

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Tweedy, Jeff. Let’s Go (So We Can Get Back): A Memoir of Recording and Discording with Wilco, Etc. New York: Dutton, 2018.