Love K-punk? Readers share 100 books like K-punk...

This book will change your idea of the place and importance of synthesizers in music history. I had the privilege to be taught by Trevor Pinch as an undergraduate and have followed his work closely since. His passing in late 2021 left a massive hole in the field of Science and Technology Studies and he is sorely missed.

The book is based on primary research on the genesis and development of the Moog synthesizer, perhaps the most important instrument in electronic music history. Unlike most texts on the instruments of electronic music, which dig into the technical details of synthesis, I love the fact that this book gives you the human stories and socio-technical processes behind how an iconic synthesizer was designed, circulated, and adopted by rock musicians from Rick Wakeman to The Beatles.

There is delight in the details, such as how salesmen packed the unwieldy Moog synth into… show more.

I wasn’t expecting this! One of the most gifted and quirky songsmiths of the age, the lead singer of art pop band The Talking Heads no less, turns his attention to the technological evolution of music.

I found profound insight and erudition on every page, but it’s not preachy or overly auto-biographical. Instead, Byrne limns out the changing shapes of music and how it comes into being in composition, performance, and education. He is as much at ease with Hume and Adorno as he is with scales, harmonies, and DJ culture, and the payoff is enormous.

Whenever I pick this book up, which is regularly, it takes me on unexpected journeys and provokes new ideas. My favorite quote on the creative process: “The idea is to allow the chthonic material the freedom it needs to gurgle up.” 

This is the book that changed my view of music and made me realise that I could write about popular music from a sociological perspective and not bore people to death!

Simon combines the punchy directness of a music critic with a thorough understanding of music as a social force that shapes our lives, loves, and identities. The book demonstrates an encyclopedic knowledge of 20th-century popular music.

I often start any research project by using the index to look up related terms and ask: “What does Simon say?” I particularly like the sections on how star persona works, and the chapter on technology is a must, too.

Is music as universally positive and life-affirming as we think?

This book made me think twice about that idea. Yes, music lubricates our identities and can generate fellow feeling and a sense of well-being, but it can just as easily drive us apart. Think about pop’s repertoire of overtly sexist and racist songs, the booing of national anthems at sports events, and music reserved for the status acquisition practices of the elite, like opera.

What I like about David Hesmondhalgh’s exploration of why music matters is that it takes a balanced view of these questions. I use it a lot in teaching as an antidote to the somewhat lazy idea that music is *always* a force for social good. I also admire David’s ability to move from the somewhat abstract realms of moral philosophy to dancing bodies without losing sight of basic but important questions like social inequality.

Lisa Lowe and I were in sustained conversation as we were composing our respective books. I read earlier drafts of hers as I was writing mine. Her analysis of settler-colonialism, the African slave trade, and trade in Asian goods and peoples in the Caribbean and Americas illustrated for me ways of thinking about the global relations and interactive impacts of the movements of people, culture, and thought. Her focus on how liberal thought shaped and is shaped by these relations helped to surface the coercive and discriminatory practices that made liberal thought possible. This “history of the present” by extension was enormously generative for thinking about the history of the neoliberal present too. 

I have always doubted the claim that people are predominantly violent and egotistical and can never change. Jeremy Rifkin, in this well-researched book, shows that despite humanity’s history of conflicts and misery, human beings have the potential, and have already begun, to create an empathic, global society.

A book such as this is needed to help us understand history as a process of humanity’s gradual maturing.

During the early 1990s, I had the good fortune to participate in Habermas’ legendary Monday night philosophy colloquium at the University of Frankfurt.

The experience transformed my understanding of the raison d’être of Critical Theory. The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity is not a book about fascism per se. Instead, it tells the story of how, after the war, the titans of interwar German Kulturpessimismus – Nietzsche (albeit, posthumously), Carl Schmitt, and Heidegger – were canonized by the leading advocates of “French Theory” as the new maîtres à penser or “master thinkers.”

Yet, the canonization of German philosophy came at a high cost. After all, historically speaking, the philosophies in question stood in close proximity to fascist ideology.

Hence, the question arises: to what extent did such pro-fascist “ideologemes” infiltrate and inform the basic tenets of French poststructuralism?

The world is complicated and confusing, but Harari organizes this complexity into 21 issues covering such diverse topics as liberty, community, war, ignorance, and meaning.

The book is a collection of self-standing essays that can be read independently. The prevailing message is that we can understand the world in which we live, though, at the same time, we cannot always make reliable decisions today or confidently predict the future because we fundamentally don't know what's going on.

Finally, the book offers a warning: modern technology, coupled with artificial intelligence, may challenge human freedom if we lose control of the powerful and evolving forces of hi-tech and AI.

This is a popular science book, so a little different from the others on this list. It is a beautifully written book that is accessible to people who don’t know much about AI but is simultaneously thought-provoking for experts.

It contains probably the best discussion of "intelligence" that I've read, interesting insights into how Google and other tech giants came to develop their machine learning strategy, and a fascinating chapter that views recommendation engines and their users as parts of a single intelligent organism. It's concise and easy to read.

I've read many popular AI books, which are highly variable in quality, and this criminally underappreciated work is the best by miles. 

I love experiments in the novel form, and this book by the Czech Ourednik startled me from the first words of its opening, a deadpan sentence telling us that the Americans who died at Normandy in 1944 were unusually tall. What follows is an accounting of important and trivial happenings of a hundred years of war-riddled world history in roughly the same number of pages.

Throughout, we read random details, skipping from how often people bathed to psychologists’ recommendations about venting aggression through competitive sports to the changes in human lives occasioned by contraceptives and tear-off toilet paper. Every page is always the tongue-in-cheek narration of absurdities I couldn’t help reading aloud to whoever was nearby. No book is like this one, and maybe no other so profound.