Man of Golden Words is by far the most thorough biography that I have ever read. It is 451 pages of every facet of Andrew Wood’s life – from his peripatetic childhood as an Army brat to his untimely death as a young man of twenty-four years.

I have long admired and been inspired by his music and wanted to know more about his genius, as I am wont to do with profoundly talented human beings. It has been difficult to research much about him until now. He died in 1990 before internet searches existed, so for years, everything I knew about him was via painstaking backtracking through the Seattle music scene of the 1990’s. Temple of the Dog was dedicated to him, Andrew Wood, lead singer of Mother Love Bone. Going further back, I discovered Malfunkshun, both their contribution to Deep Six and the posthumously released Return to Olympus (the latter of which we can access thanks to Stone Gossard).

And then voila! Along came the internet and Malfunkshun: The Andrew Wood Story, a documentary of the rock star’s rise and fall (by Scott Barbour), but the biographical film eluded me. I could never find it. (You can find it now on Amazon Prime, if you are so inclined.) And now, finally, here we are in 2025 – and all of my questions have been answered with the 2024 publication of Man of Golden Words.

Scot Barbour – let me just say, first of all, that he is a brilliant writer: his style, his obvious command of English, and his ability to weave Andrew’s life into the tapestry of narration. No small feat.

So who was this man, Andrew Wood? Malfunkshun could be considered “proto-grunge.” They were neither punk nor metal, and dare I say in a class by themselves with what Andrew dubbed “Love Rock.” Grunge has always appealed to me because of the dark themes, the willingness to stare in the face the wrongs of humanity, the questioning of the status quo, and the revelation of the imperfections of our culture and the railings against them. Yes, that has been my genre since 1991 when I heard Eddie Vedder belt out Black in his brooding baritone.

But that song was just the beginning – I had to have more. I discovered Mother Love Bone – the band that Jeff Ament and Stone Gossard fashioned before Pearl Jam. Andrew was their lead singer. And wow! I had to ask myself who is that beautiful, soulful voice. Who is this Andrew Wood? So I dug deeper and found Malfunkshun. Andrew’s brother Kevin played lead guitar. I had never heard the electric guitar played like this – a song within a song. His riffs were independent from yet intertwined with the song itself. Andrew’s voice sounded like a man who wanted to be alive in spite of the pain this world can inflict on a soul. I couldn’t get enough, but unfortunately, it would have to suffice because Andrew’s death meant that everything else – all of his unfinished solo music – would remain in the vault.

“Andrew Wood epitomized the silent suffering of seemingly content individuals, underscoring the coexistence of pain and beauty in unexpected ways.” That’s the dichotomy that was Andrew Wood that Balbour spotlights. The pain of addiction was a symptom of Andrew’s deep-seeded self doubt and loathing and it juxtaposed an unmistakable gift for music that was his ticket to fame and fortune.

Everyone loved Andrew Wood. He was that guy. He was generous, congenial, funny, genuine. The only person who didn’t love Andrew was Andrew himself, and this was his tragic flaw. “When artists grapple with an inability to love themselves, their art may emerge from a wellspring of pain and turmoil yet fall short of offering the catharsis and healing it intends,” Balfour notes.

That’s where Love Rock comes in – Andrew’s destiny, in spite of his tormented soul, was to spread love through music. His symbol of 333 exemplified his philosophy that the interconnectedness of mind, body, and spirit is a force for positive change through his artistry. Balfour explains, “Their invitation encourages others to embrace their individuality and celebrate the power of love and the freedom of self-expression.” Andrew was a genius. He couldn’t extricate love from pain. He couldn’t separate the chaos in his life from the peace he sought to share via his music. The unanswerable question is, would his music have existed without his pain? I think most poets find inspiration in the deepest, darkest chasms of their being.

Andrew lived in a beautiful era where local musicians didn’t compete with each other, rather they fed each other’s creativity. He did not conform to the boundaries set by the punk or metal scenes. Love Rock was original and unique – it still is forty years later. It was a revolution in music that he did not live long enough to realize. That is unfortunate and disheartening until I realize that people like Andrew take this ugly world and create magical beauty that remains floating in the universe like fairy dust long after they take their final bow. And people like Scot Barbour make sure that the fairy dust never settles.

Five million stars for this book. Get your copy here:

https://www.manofgoldenwords.com