Master of Music — A Book for Lovers of Music (1924)

by Sydney Grew • G.T. Foulis • ISBN: none (obviously) • Condition: Good • Sold by Crappy Old Books

If you’ve ever wanted a well-mannered 1920s gentleman to take you gently by the lapels and explain why your soul needs counterpoint, Sydney Grew is your man. Master of Music is a brisk stroll through a world where gramophones are thrilling novelties, orchestras wear evening dress in the afternoon, and the phrase “modern music” still means Debussy causing a small scandal at tea. Grew writes like a conductor with excellent posture—firm downbeat, twinkling eye—and invites you to become, if not a master, then at least an accomplice to the crime of loving music rather too much.

This is the sort of book that can turn a tram ride into a lecture hall and a rainy Sunday into the front row of the Queen’s Hall. Grew cheerfully de-mystifies the big names (yes, Beethoven really did work for a living), salutes the humble craft of harmony, and urges readers to listen with an attention span measured in adagios rather than TikToks. He’s opinionated in the best possible way: amused, generous, and occasionally sharp enough to tune a viola.

Published by G.T. Foulis in 1924, it bears all the dignified charms of the period—plainspoken typography, sensible headings, and that peculiarly British mix of scholarship and mischief. There’s no ISBN, because numbers had not yet learned to behave themselves in bookshops. What you do get is a pocketable guide to musical thinking from a moment when concert halls were temples, programme notes were prose, and the audience still wore hats big enough to have their own acoustics.

About this copy (from your friends at Crappy Old Books):
Condition is Good—a sturdy, well-behaved survivor with the usual polite signs of age you’d expect from a centenarian who still keeps time. Nothing tragic reported; just the patina of a life well read. Exactly the sort of book you’ll want to keep within arm’s reach of the gramophone you swear you’re going to buy one day.

Buy it for the wit. Keep it for the warmth. Read it for the pleasant feeling that, just maybe, you and Sydney Grew are sharing the same perfectly timed nod at bar 32.

Keep browsing: See more Music books Other books by Sydney Grew