Amina Gautier’s luminous collection The Best That You Can Do brings together the personal and political through the everyday lives of women.
Publishers Weekly wrote of the book:
“Powerful . . . Gautier’s flashes of familial angst and political commentary ignite each entry. This packs a stinging punch.””
In her own words, here is Amina Gautier’s Book Notes music playlist for her story collection The Best That You Can Do:
Music is key to The Best That You Can Do, my collection of fifty-seven very short stories. Music is ever present, appearing diegetically throughout the collection in the songs characters listen to in their homes and cars, songs they hear at clubs, parties, and parks, as well as the theme songs they hear when they watch sitcoms and movies. The songs featured in The Best That You Can Do were mostly recorded between 1960 and 1990 (except for Billie Holiday’s 1937 version of “Mean to Me”), representing the songs that members of Generation X grew up with and the music we inherited from our parents and relatives. The Best That You Can Do is my love letter to Generation X— to those of us who grew up with latchkeys and had to make do till our parents and guardians came home— and that love letter is a reminder that we are here and we don’t mean to be forgotten or intend to be overlooked.
There are too many songs mentioned in the collection for me to list them all, so I’ll limit myself to a playlist of ten.
Feliz Navidad— Jose Feliciano
We played this song every Christmas, like clockwork. The album cover looked like a Christmas present itself—it was gold with a big red and green bow in the center of the cover. I don’t remember a time when that record wasn’t in my family and I never learned exactly who owned it— my grandmother, my mother, or one of my uncles. All I know is that by the time I was born it was in the communal milk crate of albums that belonged to the whole family rather than the personal record albums people kept in their bedrooms or wrote their names on. We played it whenever we hosted Christmas at our place, but we never took it with us whenever one of my grandmother’s sisters or brother hosted. With the exception of the ones meant for children like “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” so many Christmas songs are slow, or solemn, or nostalgic and wistful, celebrating the birth of Christ, commenting on the winter or wishing to get home in time for Christmas, but “Feliz Navidad” is just cheerful—that’s it. This song makes me think of the people you encounter in the street during the holidays who are just so happy that it’s Christmas and so filled with Christmas cheer that they just wish a merry Christmas to each person they see.
Shake Your Body (Down to the Ground)—the Jacksons
So funky. So, so funky. There are any number of songs about dancing to ease stress, chase away the blues, and escape from one’s troubles i.e. dancing for the purpose of achieving an alternative emotional state, but this song just captures the joy of dancing for the sheer pleasure of dancing. There are three or four short verses about the singer’s romantic interest in his object of affection, but those verses play second fiddle to the raucous chorus. The song is lighthearted and carefree, a must-have for any GenX basement house party, it’s guaranteed to get the crowd moving, which is probably why it’s still a staple at numerous professional sports events.
Everybody was Kung-Fu Fighting— Carl Douglas
I love the way this song begins so deceptively with a slow R&B beat and Douglas crooning, right before the music kicks in and it becomes a faster-paced disco-y song complete with fighting sounds i.e. grunts and karate chops. This song captures the kung-fu craze that began in the 1970s when kung-fu movies made their way from Hong Kong to explode on the US film scene, a craze which has never ended and has influenced fifty years of action films and video games. The song expresses the pure awe the singer feels watching the speed, agility, and precision of martial artists in action. It seems incongruous—a black Jamaican-British man offering a paean to a martial art originating in Asia— but that seeming incongruity completely captures the riveting effect kung-fu movies had at that time on poor black and brown inner-city kids who got to see young nonwhite heroes in action going toe to toe against richer more powerful foes and fighting the powers that be.
“I Wonder if I Take You Home” by Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam
Alongside former First Lady Nancy Reagan’s Just Say No to drugs campaign, one thing that defines GenX adolescence is all the focus on safe sex practices. In response to the sexual revolution of the ‘60s and ‘70s and the AIDS epidemic, eighties kids grew up in an era of PSAs where our brains were scrambled eggs on drugs and a slew of hip hop and R&B songs promoted couples taking their time and having frank conversations before engaging in sex (Think Janet Jackson’s “Let’s Wait Awhile” and Salt’N Pepa’s “Let’s Talk About Sex”). Lisa Lisa’s 1985 jam is all about a woman being pressured by her boyfriend to take their relationship to the next level before she’s ready and before she’s sure of his intentions. Despite her physical desire for him, she fears being rushed into sex without some assurance that he won’t disappear afterwards and turn their relationship into a one night stand. Although this song comes out of a very specific cultural moment, one of the things I appreciate about it (besides its funky beat), is that it is in many ways an updated version of The Shirelle’s 1961 hit “Will You Love Me Tomorrow,” which suggests the timelessness of romantic and sexual insecurity.
Message in a Bottle—The Police
This song is so addictive. When Sting gets to the song’s end and sings that he’s sending out an SOS, I always have to put that part on repeat. He sings the line more than fifteen times, but it’s still not enough for me. I can never play that part just once. It’s kind of like the Phil Collins drum solo in “In the Air Tonight”—you just have to replay it. Or it’s like a potato chip—who eats only one? I love this song’s catchy rhythm and its fantastic riffs. There’s all this fast strumming and drumming and then the tempo slows all the way down when Sting gets to the part about the message in a bottle. It’s such a great song that I had to write a story for it, so I wrote “Kitler” about a woman who fears that the cat she’s been gifted is dangerous, until the cat comes to her rescue when the boyfriend proves to be the dangerous entity. I know the song is about a castaway on an island, but when I think about the act of putting a message in a bottle and sending it out to sea I think more about the hope we have that when we put ourselves out there that our cry for help will not go ignored and that we will be received by someone who gets us. And that’s what makes the repetition of that last line so compelling.
Arthur’s Theme (The Best That You Can Do)—Christopher Cross
Arthur was the first VHS tape my family purchased rather than dubbed from the TV and we watched it endlessly—until we could afford more movies and video rentals became a thing. I was too young to understand the plot, but I’d been told that the short British Dudley Moore was married to the tall lovely Bo Derek, a white woman made famous for wearing her hair in an African cornrowed style, and I recognized Liza Minelli as Judy Garland’s daughter, so I watched along with my family as Moore’s rich spoiled immature alcoholic man-child played with a train set a la Ricky Schroeder in Silver Spoons, wore top hats in his bathtub, and was chauffeured all around Manhattan. The one thing I did understand was the theme song. I’m a native New Yorker and the concept of getting caught between the moon and New York city resonated with me. As a kid, it intrigued me, and now as an adult I visualize the space between the idealized dream (the moon) and the gritty reality (New York City) as one which we all inhabit. I felt that was especially true during the onset of the pandemic when all our lives were upended and we were all searching for answers, for instructions, for reassurances, and we were all left trying to do our best given the unforeseen and unpredicted circumstances, which is how and why this song’s title came to encompass the ethos of my entire collection.
Mustang Sally—Wilson Pickett
As one who comes from a long line of women whose names appear in songs (a woman named Amina is mentioned in “Silent Treatment” by The Roots), I’ve always wondered about the other women whose names appear in popular songs and whether they enjoyed or dreaded the inside jokes, references, and allusions to songs strangers made upon meeting them. For instance, anytime I meet anyone named Jenny, I can’t help but sing “867-5309,” which is probably very annoying to the Jennys out there. So, I wrote “Second Sally” which imagines a girl named Sally who has grown up subjected to all the innuendos about wild women, fast cars, and sexual promiscuity, who eventually comes to miss the annoying teasing.
Stop in the Name of Love, Come See About Me, Where Did Our Love Go, and Back in My Arms Again— The Supremes
I’m definitely a Motown gal and I love The Supremes. Like many other GenXers, my playtime included performing their songs with friends and family as we pretended to be members of the group. The polished stage presence of Diana, Flo, and Mary with their fancy wigs, and elegant gowns is enough to captivate anyone, so it was some time before I noticed how many of their songs feature women pining for love. This quartet of ballads all depict women who have lost their relationships (“Where Did Our Love Go?), are neglected by their lovers (“Come See About Me”), are trying to recapture their lover’s lost interest (“Stop in the Name of Love), or are happy after reconciling with a lover (“Back in My Arms Again). In “Stop in the Name of Love” a woman who discovers her lover’s affair doesn’t consider leaving him; instead, she pleads her case of having been good and sweet to him and asks him to “think it all over”. Beneath the catchy melodies these are not the most empowering songs. I listened to this quartet of songs as I was revising “In the Name of Love,” which is a story about a woman who learns of her spouse’s infidelity and wants to end his affair but not end the marriage.
Mean to Me—Billie Holiday
First recorded in 1929, “Mean to Me” is a jazz standard that has been recorded by many artists, including Sarah Vaughan, Doris Day, Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, and Ella Fitzgerald, but the Billie Holiday version is the one I grew up hearing. In this song, a person is being mistreated by a lover who promises to call and never does, who is continually a no-show, and who enjoys making the singer cry. Many versions of this song are jazzy and upbeat in contrast to the plaintive lyrics. I love Holiday’s bluesier version because she sings as if she really has a bone to pick with the lover.
“A Change is Gonna Come” by Sam Cooke
When I think of hopeful songs, upbeat melodies that one can clap to are what typically come to mind, but that’s not what you get with this song, even though there’s no denying that Sam Cooke’s song is one of hope. Somehow Cooke’s song manages to be both mournful and hopeful at the same time. His voice captures the sorrow of generations of struggle on the part of a people for whom justice and progress has been long overdue and the brass instruments signal that struggle while the soaring string instruments inject the hope. So many people that promise change are trying to sell a dream and their promises are always a little too Pollyanna-rainbows- cotton candy and lollipops for me, but in this song the singer’s commiserating tone makes his promise of change feel like one a listener can believe in because he’s keeping it real. I cannot imagine that there’s a single person out there who could listen to this song and not feel affected and have their hope renewed.
also at Largehearted Boy:
Amina Gautier’s playlist for her story collection Now We Will Be Happy”
Amina Gautier, Ph.D., is the author of three short story collections: At-Risk, Now We Will Be Happy, and The Loss of All Lost Things. Gautier is the recipient of the Blackwell Prize, the Chicago Public Library Foundation’s 21st Century Award, the International Latino Book Award,the Flannery O’Connor Award, and the Phillis Wheatley Award in Fiction. For her body of work, she has received the PEN/MALAMUD Award for Excellence in the Short Story.