Cameron Crowe’s memoir The Uncool will leave you inconsolable

If you had envied him, and, like me, imagined yourself in his place countless times, you will be inconsolable after reading his memoir. His whole life appears to have been a series of journeys and interviews with many of the great musicians of rock and roll, from as early as the 1960s.

Through an honest and unassuming memoir, Crowe shows you the path he took, and it may sound like chance had brought him where he wanted to be, that he simply happened to be at the right place at the right time. But it is so much more a story of passion and perseverance. Yes, he was lucky to have had two elder sisters who introduced him to rock and roll, and to have been inducted to a magazine in high school, and to have had a mother who put him in school two grades early and bought him all this extra time. But it is undoubtedly Crowe’s own unwavering passion for music, his extraordinary knowledge of the art, and above all, his skills to tell a good story that made him such a beloved music journalist.

Reclusive musicians spoke to him

Almost Famous is a 2000 American comedy drama film written and directed by Cameron Crowe. (Wikimedia Commons)

He does not spell it out in his book but you can sense a deep empathy for the artist in his words, how else would such recluses as musicians be so much at ease with him. Kris Kristofferson gave him a precious interview at a hotel lobby, away from the bar, because Cameron was under-aged to go inside.  The evasive David Bowie got so close to him he let him have a few pages of an autobiography that he would never publish. For many readers, these stories about Cameron’s music journalism may far outweigh his filmmaking, and that is not because the latter was any less brilliant. It’s just music love.

Crowe wants to make sure that you get that this whole journey is as much about his family as the music and movies in his life. It began, if you want a starting point, when he attended Bob Dylan’s concert at the local gym in San Diego as a seven year old with his mother and sister. Twenty-five years later, he would do a rare interview of Dylan, he says.

No need to gasp right then, because such revelations keep coming through the book, and Cameron is not even attempting to blow his own horn. This book is not him saying, see I am this great journalist who had such a great time. He unburdens as much his tough days, and there are a lot of these, as his good ones.

Trusted by the greats

As someone who began his work so early in life, he missed out on having a regular childhood, but then his young age had clearly given him an edge over experienced others. The youngness allowed him a clarity that could recognise great art from a distance, even as they were only emerging and little accepted or acknowledged by others. It seemed like Crowe suddenly found a free pass to write about every unorthodox wonderful band that Rolling Stone had hitherto ignored or written off as passing fads. The band Led Zeppelin was not keen on the magazine, which had not been kind to them before, but young Crowe found a way to reach Jimmy Page.

Gregg Allman who had snatched Crowe’s recorded tape after giving him a wonderful interview, later returned it to him on post (it is another mood reading about a time you used tapes which may or may not record your interviews and film cameras which may not save your pictures).

The reclusive English singer-songwriter David Bowie grew close enough to pass him pages of an autobiography he would later not publish. And Crowe recognised the brilliance of then-new singers such as Bruce Springsteen as soon as they emerged on the scene.

He could pave these paths to reach the artists because he knew exactly what he was talking about when he talked about music. When David Bowie played a tape of The Spinners at a party he met Crowe in, they could talk about their shared love for the band. All through the book, you wonder if Crowe could sing too or play an instrument. He doesn’t say. His expertise, you surmise, comes in asking the right questions, and knowing when to remain silent, for an answer may just tumble out after a very long pause.

Talent very often spills over and Crowe’s dropped straight into the art of filmmaking. After wondering briefly on how Jerry Maguire (1996) came from the same man who made Almost Famous, you realise, of course, if he can move from writing covers for Rolling Stone to making movies, why not from one kind of movie to another.

The only constant seems to be his doing it all really well. So obviously when he went ahead and made a play called Almost Famous, it came as no surprise that he’d be just as good in theatre. By then, you have long resigned to the fact that music journalism worked for him not by chance but because he was so much into the music that he wrote about.

You examine yourself for that kind of passion and stop complaining if you don’t find any semblance of it inside you. You can’t be a surface level music lover and then expect all the glory to fall on you. Cameron’s book teaches you that, while it reminds you how intoxicating is that strange world of artists who make unimaginably beautiful music.