The Mix
22 | Rolling Stone | February 2020
ILLUSTRATIO
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PHILLIP^CARUSO/HULU,^3ILLUSTRATION BY Miles DonovanWelcome
to High
Fidelity,
2020 A.D.
The author on why Hulu’s
gender-flipped series based
on his music-superfandom
novel makes perfect sense
By NICK HORNBY
ESSAY
Y
OU HAVE TO PLAY the long game, if
you want to survive as a writer. The
publication of High Fidelity, in 1995,
was just the first step in an ambitious
25-year plan: a successful American edition,
even though I set the book in London (check);
a much-loved Hollywood movie (check); and
then a gender-flipped TV series starring a
woman who was six years old when the book
was published, but whose talent and star
power were obvious even then (check). It is
very satisfying when these things pay off.
All of this, including finishing the novel in
the first place, seemed highly unlikely right up
until the point where everything actually hap-
pened, and Zoë Kravitz’s Hulu series (premier-
ing February 14th) is perhaps the most unlikely
High Fidelity iteration yet. That it makes so
much sense, and speaks so directly to a con-
temporary audience, is a tribute to the star; it
also says something about the ability of pop,
rock & roll, etc., to inspire enduring devotion
and provide a crucial sense of identification.
When I wrote the book, I had wondered
whether all that was on the way out. The
original Rob Fleming was beginning to suspect
that he had dedicated the first half of his life
to a cause that was no longer meaningful or
relevant. Virgin and Borders megastores were
replacing independents. CDs had replaced
vinyl. Only a few German boffins had heard of
MP3s. Who could’ve predicted that by 2020
the megastores would all be dead and that
the plucky if impoverished Robs of the world
would be the last ones standing?
High Fidelity the TV show deals with the
world we’re in now. The playlists are made
digitally, yet the hearts that are broken by
feckless men and women are still inconve-
niently and painfully analog. Somehow, Rob
survived the move into the 21st century,
because people are still willing to pay for
something that’s as ubiquitous as the air
we breathe. After I began to use Spotify, I
thought, “This is incredible: every piece of
music I’ll ever need, in a small box in my
pocket.” But I started to feel that I wasn’t
paying the music enough attention, or giving
it enough respect. With a record, you have to
sit still and listen for 20 minutes, rather than
skip after the first 10 seconds. Many of us are
surrounded by books we’ll never part with
because they tell us who we are. The same
applies to music. We want to make our mark,
peel off, find a little corner of the planet that
is uniquely ours. Our tastes reflect back an
image of ourselves, invariably an image much
more flattering than a selfie. I didn’t know
in 1995 that I was writing a book that would
serve as a mirror to future generations. They
too would look in it and see themselves.
And I didn’t know that High Fidelity was
going to be a TV series until plans were rela-
tively advanced. When I sold the film rights
to the book during the Nineties, I sold the TV
rights too. But in late 2018, a friend of a friend
of Zoë’s got in touch to say that she wanted
to talk. It’s weird that her mother was in the
movie. It’s weird that both of them have posed
naked for the cover of this magazine. Maybe
this was all some kind of gimmick? But anydoubts about her suitability for the gig, and
her deep cultural seriousness, were dispelled
partly by our conversation, and partly by
the first playlist she sent me, featuring tracks
by Alice Coltrane, Tierra Whack, William
Onyeabor, Shuggie Otis, Betty Davis, Sun Ra,
the Clash, Spirit, the MC5, and Darondo. Zoë
might be a bona fide movie star, but she’s
done a lot of crate-digging. I was pretty sure
that she’d do a good job. She has.
Every time I’ve had cause to dip back into
the book, I’ve been struck by its melancholy.
That’s transferred to the series; Zoë’s Rob has
the blues. Her music is a shield against the
world, but it can’t provide all the protection
she needs — and in any case, her generation
has more to worry about than mine ever did.
I don’t think anyone who has read and
loved the book, and/or seen and loved the
movie could be disappointed with the series.
And if I catch anyone saying it’s self-conscious-
ly “woke,” what with its gender reversals and
its inclusion of more than one race/sexuality,
I will come ’round to your house and put you
back to sleep. Because, guess what: High Fidel-
ity isn’t just about you. It’s about people who
aren’t like you, too.Kravitz
(center) stars
in Hulu’s High
Fidelity TV
show, along
with David H.
Holmes and
Da’Vine Joy
Randolph
(right); John
Cusack and
Jack Black
(left) in the
2000 movie