Quick Take
- Narration: Ben Sullivan reads with a relaxed, conversational delivery that perfectly matches Hyden’s informal and witty critical voice.
- Themes: Identity through musical allegiance, generational taste and rivalry, the psychology of fandom
- Mood: Funny, brainy, and unexpectedly personal, like a long conversation with a music writer you trust
- Verdict: Hyden’s nineteen-rivalry structure is a clever organizing framework that consistently delivers both entertainment and genuine cultural insight.
I started this one on a Friday night after a week that had been too long and too much of everything. I wanted something that would make me think a little without demanding too much, and Steven Hyden’s book turned out to be precisely that. I was about forty minutes in when I realized I had been grinning for most of that time, which is not a common reaction to cultural criticism but is apparently something Hyden reliably produces in readers who encounter his work.
The premise is so simple it almost sounds like a podcast pitch: take nineteen pop music rivalries, from Beatles versus Stones to Kanye versus Taylor, and use each one as a lens for examining something larger about culture, identity, and the strange investment people make in musical allegiances. What saves the book from being merely clever is the depth Hyden brings to each rivalry and his willingness to connect the musical to the genuinely personal.
The Rivalry as Cultural Mirror
The chapter on Hendrix versus Clapton is the one I keep thinking about most. Hyden uses it to explore burning out versus fading away, the specific dynamic between an artist who consumed everything intensely and briefly and one who survived by pacing, adapting, and persisting across decades. It is not a simple argument about which approach is more admirable: it is an exploration of what both choices reveal about what we think genius is supposed to look like and what we expect it to cost.
The Miley versus Sinead chapter works differently but equally well. Here the subject is the perennial war between old and young, between experience and instinct, between the artist who has suffered into their understanding and the artist who refuses to take the suffering on those terms. The fact that both figures are women adds a dimension that Hyden handles thoughtfully without making it the only dimension that matters.
Why Hyden Is the Right Writer for This Subject
Reviewers who have followed Hyden’s work at The Ringer and elsewhere know what to expect here: an essayist with real historical knowledge and an equally real comfort with his own enthusiasms and biases. One reviewer calls him “one of the best music writers in the game for years” and notes that the book delivers on that reputation without compromise. What makes him particularly suited to this format is his willingness to be wrong in interesting ways. He does not write from a position of settled authority but from a position of genuine engagement, and the difference registers in every chapter.
The mix of cultural criticism, personal anecdotes, and music history that the synopsis describes is accurate, but what the synopsis undersells is the humor. This is a genuinely funny book, and the funny is not separate from the smart: Hyden uses comedy as a way of lowering defenses, including his own, before making an argument that might otherwise feel too earnest. One reviewer describes it as “highly entertaining” and notes they truly did not want it to end. That combination of entertainment and substance is harder to achieve than it looks.
The Rivalries You Think You Know and the Ones You Discover
At nearly eight hours, the audiobook has enough time to develop each of its nineteen chapters properly, and the range is wide enough that most listeners will encounter at least a few pairings they had not thought about before. Biggie versus Tupac is examined in a chapter that refuses to be simply retrospective or elegiac. The coverage of Kanye versus Taylor arrives early enough in both careers’ public perception wars to have an interesting relationship with subsequent events, and Hyden’s reading of that rivalry has a prophetic quality that listeners in 2025 will find difficult to ignore.
Ben Sullivan’s narration suits the material exactly right. His delivery is conversational and dry where Hyden’s writing is conversational and dry, which matters considerably for a book that depends on timing as much as any comedy does. At a runtime that rewards sustained attention, the narrator’s ability to maintain energy without overcooking it keeps the listening experience feeling fresh from Beatles versus Stones all the way to the book’s final pages.
Frequently Asked Questions
Do I need to be deeply knowledgeable about all nineteen musical rivalries to enjoy the book?
No. Reviewers specifically describe it as accessible and informative even on topics they did not know well going in. Hyden provides enough context within each chapter that the book works as education as well as analysis.
Is the book primarily funny or primarily serious cultural criticism?
Both, and that combination is what reviewers consistently praise. Hyden uses humor as a delivery mechanism for genuine critical argument, so the chapters that make you laugh are typically also the ones making the most substantive points.
How does the Kanye versus Taylor chapter hold up given subsequent events?
Reviewers do not address post-publication events directly, but Hyden’s reading of that rivalry as a generational and aesthetic confrontation rather than simply a personal dispute means the argument remains structurally interesting regardless of how either figure’s reputation has evolved since the book’s publication.
Is the Beatles versus Stones rivalry treated as settled or genuinely examined?
Genuinely examined. Hyden’s approach throughout the book is to use familiar rivalries as openings for surprising arguments rather than confirming received wisdom about who won. The first chapter sets that tone intentionally.
