Have you ever wondered what sustenance kept Mick Jagger alive all these years? Or how Clairo has the soothing intonation of an angel, while also ripping the same Marlboro Lights that make my throat burn and lungs dry? And what exactly is Phoebe Bridgers eating to keep her skin effortlessly glowing as she shuffles between solo project, Boy Genius tours, and famous actor and comedian boyfriends?
Fortunately for us, two indie rockers have linked up to give music junkies and avid readers insight into life on tour. Musician Alex Bleeker (Real Estate) and food and travel writer Luke Pyenson (formerly of Frankie Cosmos) penned their first edition of Taste in Music: Eating on Tour with Indie Musicians (Chronicle Books, September 2024). It’s a love letter to life on the road, and the meals and gas station sandwiches that fueled indie rock’s most remarkable minds – or bogged them down – along the way.
Bleeker and Pyenson gathered essays and interviews from dozens of indie musicians from pockets all over the genre, with their tall tales from touring sprinkled in along the way. We hear from the likes of Kero Kero Bonito, Adam Schatx (Japanese Breakfast), Natalie Mering (Weyes Blood), Eric Slick (Dr. Dog), Amelia Meath (Sylvan Esso), and many, many more. Almost all of these featured players are friends from their rolodexes. As the book explains, indie rock is a smaller world than you may think.
I also reference this book as a first edition because, despite the 200+ pages of beautifully penned essays and insights from a variety of the most accredited indie icons, there will never be enough of these essays to satiate the indie rock consumer at least not for me. And as much of a self-proclaimed fanatic as I am of the genre, I was so pleasantly surprised to learn that I didn’t know every band out there. I’m probably the last person to learn of the band Vetiver, but what a treat.
And while there are countless memoirs from rock musicians of the early aughts, many of our beloved present-day performers have not since put down the guitars and amps and had the time to write a book. So, this collection gives us the perfect voyeuristic view of the dinner tables and into the minds of our favorite indie rock artists. And, as the duo writes in the introduction — “stories centering food are the perfect gateway into understanding tour itself.”
Who knew food and music fit so well together?
Indie rockers were the perfect choice to churn out a beautiful book of essays. If they can make driving down the New Jersey highway downtempo and melodic, they can tell exciting tales of Japanese gas station snacks and gut-wrenching stories about breakfast sandwiches and love.
And if you’re wondering, “how the hell do these guys remember what they ate on tour in 2012?” Kevin Morby has an answer for you.
“There’s a lot that I don’t remember about eating on the road,” Morby writes. “And though I’ve been given the good fortune to dine all over the world over the past decade, I’d be hard-pressed to tell you the actual names of most of the restaurants, neighborhoods, or even the cities and towns where the dining took place…Instead of trying to relocate them, I simply let them settle quietly into my past not as a specific time, place, or person, but rather as a feeling.” He then goes on to discuss feeling “cool” as he ate sushi at sunrise in Tokyo, and “fancy” while eating smoked fish at an Icelandic spa, the list goes on.
Or as Ethan Bassford, bassist of NYC art-pop group Ava Luna, writes of a Turkish flat bread, he stumbled upon after playing a festival in Mannheim, Germany. A stranger feeding the hungry touring band, a man who did not speak his native tongue, left him with not just the memory of good food but “the sweet memory of being welcomed.” These are some of the little insights that will leave your heart feeling full.
Taste in Music also shows us that musicians are cultured not just because they’re effortlessly cool and good at music, but because they’ve literally seen the ins and outs of different cultures, continents, and places we didn’t even know existed. But as these rockers, often poor in the beginning, living off a $3 a day per band member food budget, they’re shown a lot of love by locals. They’re given the perspective that we may not see as outsiders on the walking tour around Berlin – and not to mention, they perform for different crowds and cultures every night.
Aside from the beautiful and fun bits, the book is also a raw look at how touring impacts artists – not just the glamorous, fun parts. Artists have seemingly opened up about the grueling lifestyle of life on tour. In 2024, it’s not uncommon for an artist to cancel shows, citing physical illness or full tours outright naming the intense strain of touring on mental health.
Bleeker’s essay in part two of the book resonated deeply. He writes about, no matter how good a show might have been, he’d find himself wasting hours staring at photos of himself, critiquing every angle, vowing to do better, and eating the same shit the next day. It’s comforting to know that even some of our favorite artists are, well, human.
It’s something I think a lot of society forgets. Rockstars are people too.
I’d also like to note the layout and format of this book are so fun. While I read my copy digitally, I can only imagine how these colors, fonts, and beautiful images from the artists (chefs, producers, managers, and more) pop off the page. It has that Rachel Ray cookbook type of feel, with the big bold lettering and of course, the little doodles in the margins — the drawings of which came as no surprise to me, a lifelong fan of Lauren Martin, also of Frankie Cosmos, and her artwork (I’m staring at a poster of a smiling bagel as I write this sentence).
Here’s to hoping we get many more books (and albums!) from Luke Pyneson and Alex Bleeker. Pick up a copy here.
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