Deep Cuts

by Holly Brickley

★★★★☆4.0 · 1 review

· ISBN MANUAL-1771827982397

Description

Look, the song whispered to me, that day in my living room. Life can be so big. It’s a Friday night in a campus bar in Berkeley, fall of 2000, and Percy Marks is pontificating about music again. Hall and Oates is on the jukebox, and Percy—who has no talent for music, just lots of opinions about it—can’t stop herself from overanalyzing the song, indulging what she knows to be her most annoying habit. But something is different tonight. The guy beside her at the bar, fellow student Joe Morrow, is a songwriter. And he could listen to Percy talk all night. Joe asks Percy for feedback on one of his songs—and the results kick off a partnership that will span years, ignite new passions in them both, and crush their egos again and again. Is their collaboration worth its cost? Or is it holding Percy back from finding her own voice? Moving from Brooklyn bars to San Francisco dance floors, Deep Cuts examines the nature of talent, obsession, belonging, and above all, our need to be heard.

Reviews

what the neighbourhood thinks

shraddha bodhankar★★★★☆

Percy, a cynical visionary, who gave me a sense of yearning to know more about music was equally and funnily insufferable. her need to be right was a bit too egotistical but also harshly relatable because I also have an undying need to be right most of the times. this book made self reflect, gave my music taste some variation and helped me realise that Joe was just another man, maybe without the balls. I almost felt pityful towards Percy's lack of doing things because to me she seemed a great but annoying character of judgement. made me almost angry because she could've done everything Joe did but she chose not to because her own mind was her prison. this book made my brain turn into a washing machine and washed off all the scares I still have about doing everything a man can do, all I have to do it let the envy wash away of the liberties they possess. Zoe was cool. Joe was boring to me. good shit, holly brickley.

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