About the Book
Special Anniversary Hardcover Edition.
When first published in 2017, They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us became an instant cultural sensation, appearing in music videos, B-sides to singles by The National’s Matt Berninger and Julien Baker, as an essay prompt on standardized tests, and led critics at NPR to herald Hanif Abdurraqib as “one of the most essential voices of his generation.” This expanded paperback edition includes three additional essays by the author and an original afterword by Jason Reynolds.
Whether he’s attending a Bruce Springsteen concert the day after visiting Michael Brown’s grave, or considering public displays of affection at a Carly Rae Jepsen show, Abdurraqib writes with a poignancy and magnetism that resonates profoundly. In the wake of the 2015 Paris nightclub attacks, Abdurraqib recalls how he sought refuge as a teenager in music, at punk shows, and wonders whether the next generation of young Muslims will be afforded that same opportunity. While discussing the everyday threat to the lives of Black Americans, Abdurraqib recounts the first time he was ordered to the ground by police officers.
Described as “a collection of death-defying protest songs for the Black Lives Matter era*,” in these searing, unforgettable essays, Abdurraqib reflects on everything from Chance The Rapper and Nina Simone to Allen Iverson and Serena Williams, from summer crushes to the thrill of common joys in children. In his thoughtful consideration of music, culture, and daily life as a lens through which to view our world, Abdurraqib proves himself a bellwether for our times.
[*Walton Muyumba, Chicago Tribune]
About the Author :
Hanif Abdurraqib — a 2021 MacArthur 'Genius' Grant Recipient — is a poet, essayist, and cultural critic from Columbus, Ohio. His poetry has been published in Muzzle, Vinyl, PEN American, and various other journals. His essays and music criticism have been published in The FADER, Pitchfork, The New Yorker, and The New York Times. He is the author of the poetry collections The Crown Ain't Worth Much, a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Book Prize, and A Fortune For Your Disaster, which won the 2020 Lenore Marshall Prize, and the essay collections They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us, named a best book of the year by Buzzfeed, Esquire, NPR, Oprah Magazine, Paste, CBC, The Los Angeles Review, Pitchfork, and The Chicago Tribune, among others; Go Ahead In The Rain: Notes To A Tribe Called Quest, a New York Times Bestseller, a finalist for the Kirkus Prize, and longlisted for the National Book Award; and A Little Devil In America, which was shortlisted for the National Book Award. He is a graduate of Beechcroft High School.
Review :
"I loved, like beyond all measure, Hanif Abdurraqib’s They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us. It’s a collection of essays about music and culture that are written with such insight and tenderness that I read it in a day and immediately read the whole thing again... It’s spectacular."
—Samantha Irby, The New York Times
"Abdurraqib is just phenomenal. I don’t know what else to tell you. These sentences make me feel how I feel watching Simone Biles on a vault, or Shoma Uno on the ice, or anyone who is just impossibly fucking stellar at whatever they’re doing."
—Bryan Washington, The A.V. Club
"I am always so moved by Abdurraqib's lyrical writing, which to me seems to occupy a genre of celebratory elegy that only he is capable of inhabiting. He weaves cultural criticism and personal memoir in such a beautiful way, making the two modes feel inevitably and inextricably bound."
—Jonny Sun, The Week
"[Abdurraqib's] ode to 'Trap Queen' as the new 'I Will Always Love You' first caught my attention. I was instantly hooked."
—Questlove, Vulture
"With They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us, I felt like [Hanif Abdurraqib] encouraged more compassion out of me with every essay."
—Lucy Dacus, The Creative Independent
"Rhythmic repetition makes for roaring passages that beg to be read aloud, but for all his poetic muscularity, Abdurraqib understands the value of linguistic economy."
—Pete Tosiello, The Washington Post
"One of the defining nonfiction works of the past decade... They Can’t Kill Us an instant classic for music criticism and an essential read."
—Josh Friedberg, Pop Matters
"One of the most vital books on music I read this year was the critic and poet Hanif Abdurraqib’s essay collection They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us, which spoke so eloquently to the importance of making space for dreaming, laughing, and, of course, listening to joyful music in troubled times."
—Lindsay Zoladz, Slate
"Excellent collection of essays on music, mortality and being black in America... magnetic and poignant, and tinged with heartache."
—Nikesh Shukla, The Guardian
"Music nerds, rejoice! There are few critics alive today that can talk about music and culture with the same level of adoration and encyclopedic knowledge... [They Can't Kill Us Until They Kill Us is] ridiculously good."
—Gina Mei, Shondaland
"Abdurraqib will make you think critically about music and the culture it influences, and his thoughts will stay with you long after you’ve tunneled through... his wonderful book."
—Gabriela Tully Claymore, Stereogum
"Poignant and important. Abdurraqib offers a perspective that connects music, art, and memory, with the political realities of our time."
—Angela Ledgerwood, Esquire
“Establishes Abdurraqib as a major rock critic—polished and deft and original in a searchingly unpolished way."
—Robert Christgau, Barnes and Noble Review
"Funny, painful, precise, desperate, and loving throughout. Not a day has sounded the same since I read him."
—Greil Marcus, Village Voice
"A much-needed collection for our time. [Abdurraqib] has proven to be one of the most essential voices of his generation.”
—Juan Vidal, NPR
"A collection of death-defying protest songs for the Black Lives Matter era."
—Walton Muyumba, Chicago Tribune
"Challenging and lyrical, his writing delivers compelling observations in bite-sized pieces, allowing you to digest the deeper ramifications of his insights."
—Frannie Jackson, Paste
