These kinds of survival stories are the stuff of which Oprah and Lifetime TV movies are made: Diagnosed with leukemia, a young man of 20 ignores impending doom and keeps plugging for another 15 years, undeterred, determined to make something of himself. Usually these yarns are maudlin and weepy, and though they are engineered to tug at the heartstrings, they more often than not feel exploitive. Maybe that’s because the subjects of those tales didn’t write really funny songs like “A Dying Cub Fan’s Last Request,” poignant ones like “Banana Republics” and one that just about everyone knows, “City of New Orleans,” made famous by Arlo Guthrie.
Steve Goodman’s story is one worth telling. The Chicago-based singer-songwriter was one of the most intelligent, perceptive and humorous of his ilk. He was never hugely famous but he was loved, both by a sizable coterie of fans and by fellow performers. He was also prolific—knowing that his time would be short, Goodman wrote, recorded and performed feverishly during his career, which ended when he finally succumbed in 1984.
All of that material has given author Clay Eals plenty to write about, so much so that he’s penned a two-inch-thick, 780-page biography that, it’s safe to say, will serve as the definitive take on this respected artist. Eals interviewed more than 1,000 people for the book: dozens of artists, friends and family, even Hillary Clinton, a classmate of Goodman’s. That it’s a thorough portrait goes without saying—virtually every move the guy made is accounted for and expounded upon.
Whether it’s too much of a portrait is another matter. As likable and durable as Goodman’s work is, and as breezy and occasionally riveting as Face the Music is, an account of this heft would need some judicious editing to appeal to any but the most predisposed fan.