Fans pick 51 books like Dance Music Manual

Definitely dated, UK-centric, and undeniably highly opinionated, this is nonetheless essential. It is a fascinating read, a historical document of the height of the 90s dance scene, and it's both honest and humorous to boot. If you want a pile of hints and tips about how to DJ well while at the same time finding yourself falling in love with how special dance music can be and what it can mean to those who dedicate their lives to it, add this one to your list.

Not one to leave lying around, though, as it is pretty honest about the underbelly of the dance scene in places—as is another book we're getting to later in this list.

I have to declare an interest here as I was John's technical editor for the most recent edition of this book (which isn't that recent, to be honest—but trust me, a lot of this advice is timeless). Therefore, this book remains a great guide to DJing if you're more interested in learning how it was done before laptops, subscription music services, sharing your mixes online, and all the other bells and whistles that digital has brought to the table.

One of the central skills of DJing is being able to "beatmix" tunes effectively, and John is particularly good at teaching systematically how to do this without using any of the aids modern DJing affords the beginner. Dated, then, but still undeniably useful.

As a DJ tutor who's been in this game for 30+ years, I'm amazed at how often students really want me to tell them a bit about what it was like to DJ on the club scene "back in the day." When they do, I send them to this book.

Written by an anonymous DJ who toured the world playing in the best clubs for long enough to experience many highs and some considerable lows, it is part memoir, part Spinal Tap, as it lifts the lid on the hedonism, stupidity, and craziness of the club/rave scene at its height. Certainly harrowing in parts, but it is also laugh-out-loud funny - and is nothing if not brutally honest.

It's a good book to own alongside the same authors' "how-to" guide listed above. I always recommend this one for my students when they want to understand a bit more about what it is actually like to DJ professionally and why people dedicate their lives to it.

The book is in the form of a series of interviews with DJs, many of whom are well known (or at least, were at the time it was written—it is quite old), but many of whom certainly weren't ever famous, and historically it covers a large timespan. Success in DJing means something very different depending upon your outlook, where you are in the world, and so on, and this book empowers the learning DJ to have confidence in their dreams by sharing a wide range of stories and experiences of the life of the DJ.

Herman Klein wrote for the magazine, Gramophone during the 1920s and his reviews of the then-current 78 r.p.m. recordings are among the best you can read. This book from Amodeus Press contains all his reviews and articles for that magazine and is a fascinating, essential read. This is another book that I have read and re-read over the years, scribbled in the margins, and quoted from in my own writing.

This account of how LAX shaped its surrounding environment usefully affirmed my own decision to focus on a particular place. Its careful focus on how jet noise catalyzed relationships among a wide array of people and social forces in Los Angeles helped me understand better how such relationships had developed about 400 miles to the north.

Beyond all of that, this book has a lot of smart things to say about how noise more generally shapes our urban environments and attunes us to them.

This book is full of unexpected delights from beginning to end.

The first spread states, “ROAR!! Goes the…” opposite a cutout that shows a tiger driving. The next spread says, “…TRUCK that rumbles up the road,” and shows the tiger driving a truck with a crate of tacks tumbling onto the road.

Likewise, “Hiss…goes the CAR that gets a flat tire,” driven by a snake. A parade of vehicles gets held up behind them until a coyote-driven police car (Awooo!) and beaver-driven tow truck (chomp!) save the day.

Cushman’s illustrations contain even more visual jokes. The sloth passing the pile-up on the sidewalk while pushing a tennis-ball-footed walker made me laugh out loud, even without a vehicle- or animal-loving toddler to read it to.

Known as ‘the man who invented the ‘80s’, Trevor Horn is considered one of the most innovative producers of modern pop.

He revolutionized production from his group The Buggles Video Killed the Radio Star to Band Aid’s Do they Know It’s Christmas?, to hits for Frankie Goes to Hollywood, ABC, Yes,  Rod Stewart, and Seal. I can tell you this book is the real deal because I worked with him on hits for The Pet Shop Boys, Grace Jones, Frankie, and ABC.

This book takes you inside his unique process, and reveals his production concept - at once mind-blowing and surprisingly down-to-earth.

Ten Ways to Hear Snow commemorates the sounds of winter. Lina sets off alone to visit her grandmother (another Little Red Riding Hood reference!) the morning after a blizzard. As she walks through the neighbourhood, she notices the sounds snow makes while building a snowman, shoveling snow, and more. At her grandma’s place, they form a new point of connection because her grandma can’t see well and so relies on listening.

In the words of Joni Mitchell, you “don’t know what you got till it’s gone.” Only a person who has gone deaf partway through life knows what it means to live with and without sound. And music.

In this evocative book, British journalist Bella Bathurst chronicles her profound loss of hearing starting at age 27—and twelve years later, its dramatic return. The health reporter in me gave a thumbs-up to her skillful exploration of the lesser-known science of hearing.

She introduces expert lip readers, soldiers who accept deafness as an occupational hazard, and the copper “ear trumpets” used by Beethoven as his greatest joy ebbed. When Bathurst regains her hearing, I was awed by her description of hearing music anew: “It was a thousand volts of birdsong.”