Almost ten years ago, I asked Sara Quin, of Tegan and Sara, about the way "your songs about relationships never demonize the person you're singing to, or about; there's always a sense of care even in the wake of something painful."

She responded, "I think that's very accurate as a summation of our music, and how we are as people too. Probably to a fault in my own personal relationships I've struggled with this overpowering compassion." At the time, she implied that she was trying to toughen up a bit, to overcome a sense that one always needs to make someone feel "happy" and "forgiven," no matter what's happened.

Having just read her new memoir, co-written with her sister and bandmate, I have a new appreciation for the roots of that compassion. In our interview she cited the friendship her parents developed even after a divorce, and the book touches on that. Also, though, it gave me — as a cis straight guy — a new appreciation for what it might feel like to be in a relationship with someone when you're both surrounded by people who casually mock your right to feel what you feel, and love who you love.

On a surface level, High School covers a lot of the same territory as most music memoirs. We learn how Tegan and Sara started playing music and writing songs, and how they realized the two of them together were an irreducible musical unit. They collaborate with bandmates, but the name of their duo says it all: Tegan and Sara. Not just one, not just the other, not anyone else at the band's core.

The identical twins have stuck together as a band for over 20 years now, but that's another story. High School is the story of how they got their start...but it's also a story about growing up, about being a twin, about falling in love, about coming out, and about what it's like to have all those things happening at once.

The story is told in an immediate first-person style, by the two sisters in alternating sections. It's told in the past tense, but without a lot of interpolated reflections on how their youthful experiences influenced their music and their lives as adults. The authors set out to put us in their shoes circa 1995 to 1998, their 10th through 12th grade years.

It's a fascinating, moving story, seen from two sides at once. An introductory section describes their bond as twins. They're not telepathic, and in fact they've deliberately hesitated, at times, to share some of their deepest thoughts. As they told Terry Gross, they didn't have "one single conversation" in high school about the fact that they were both gay, as they'd realized by the time they graduated.

Not until they sat down to write this book (and record a companion album, with new renditions of songs they wrote as teenagers), it seems, did they really open up with each other around the confusing and painful dynamic that resulted from Sara becoming aware of her sexuality before Tegan was, and experiencing a longer and more painful period of doubt and guilt around it. "I felt Sara's very, very, very palpable resentment at the way that that went down," Tegan told Gross. "Sara took the initial blast, for sure."

Much of the book reads like a novel, except that it's hard to imagine any fiction author coming up with passages as poignant as Sara's story about coming out to a boy she'd been dating. Their relationship was affectionate, but Sara knew it wasn't right. The boy had a male best friend who was gay, and responded supportively. Sara writes, "Cameron's indifference to what I'd told him had an unnerving effect. I was uncomfortable that he could accept about me what I couldn't accept about myself."

Tegan and Sara weren't "the cool kids" in their Calgary high school (in one of the book's best lines, Tegan writes about an older girl who was "the kind of popular that made you consider throwing yourself down a set of stairs to make room for her if you were in her way") — but they were pretty cool. They partied a lot, and mostly had a great time doing it.

Yep, they drank and did drugs, but despite (in part, perhaps, because of) a couple of harrowing experiences — seriously hurting themselves by falling over while high, hitting a New Year's party where things got violent and they were chased away by pipe-wielding figures in a car — they kept their substance abuse under control. ("After she peaked," writes Sara at one point, Tegan "stretched out on the carpet, so captivated by the sound of her own voice that she recited to us for hours the plot of The Clan of the Cave Bear.")

As middle-class kids of the '90s (their mom was a professional woman who went back to school and both their father and stepfather worked for local builders), their youth was well-documented in photos and on tape. Many of the photos are included in the book, and they've been sharing some of their early videos online.

The sisters' musical development runs through the book, from Sara breaking into tears at an unexpected gift of Smashing Pumpkins' double disc Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness (a reminder of the CD era, when getting new music meant really shelling out), to their first DIY demo tape under the name Plunk ("we're punk," said Tegan, "but we don't have a drummer so we're kind of — light punk"), to their emerging confidence playing for friends (loyal listeners holing up in a bedroom to hear the duo when dudes playing video games in the living room scoff at their "coffee house" music), to their victory at a local battle of the bands and, soon thereafter, their discovery by major labels at the 1998 New Music West showcase in Vancouver. By that point they were officially "Sara and Tegan," the order eventually inverted because "Tegan and Sara" is less likely to blend together into a single word.

When the girls aren't hefting dreadnoughts, the book is full of compelling episodes — often relatable, sometimes enraging. The book includes candid discussions of how both sisters discovered they were attracted to women, documented to help kids like them feel less alone when they start to experience similar feelings. In a heteronormative world, even having liberal parents can't insulate kids from feelings of wrongness around same-sex attractions; in one instance, their stepdad says something offensive and then apologizes. "You need to remember where I come from," he says, "how people talk on the job sites, at the mill, on the ice...I'm better than most, and I'm learning."

The book seems to invite a movie or TV adaptation, and if that happens, the climax might not be a musical triumph. It might just be the scene where Sara literally stands up to confront a classmate who jokes that they don't need to learn about AIDS because, he says, only people who are gay get that disease, using an epithet to add insult to inaccuracy. When the teacher lets the boy go with a mild "knock it off," Sara throws her chair at the kid.

"What if someone in this class is gay?" she asks, and runs to the office of a sympathetic counselor. "I couldn't quite meet his eyes," she writes about thanking the counselor for his support. "I wanted to tell him that I knew he was gay, and that I probably was, too. But I couldn't."

The authors describe the memoir as their "origin story," and it's of course a must-read for their fans...but it's much more than that, a book you'll want to recommend to everyone you know. It's enlightening, it's entertaining, it's important. It's beautiful, it's maddening, it's unforgettable. It's High School.

The Current's High School giveaway

Use this form to enter The Current's High School giveaway between 7:45 a.m. Central on Wednesday, September 25, 2019 and 11:59 p.m. Central on Tuesday, October 1, 2019.

Four (4) winners will each receive one (1) hardcover copy of Tegan and Sara's book High School and one (1) compact disc of Tegan and Sara's album Hey, I'm Just Like You. Three (3) back up names will be drawn.

Prize retail value: $38.58

Winners will be notified via email on Wednesday, October 2, 2019. Winner must accept by 10 a.m. Central on Thursday, October 3, 2019.

This giveaway is subject to Minnesota Public Radio's 2019 Official Giveaway Rules.

You must be 13 or older to submit any information to American Public Media. The personally identifying information you provide will not be sold, shared, or used for purposes other than to communicate with you about American Public Media programs. See Minnesota Public Radio Terms of Use and Privacy policy.

Upcoming Rock and Roll Book Club picks

Tune in to The Current at 8:30 a.m. (Central) every Wednesday morning to hear Jay Gabler and Jill Riley talk about a new book. Also, find Jay's reviews online.

Oct. 2: Face It by Debbie Harry

Oct. 9: On Time by Morris Day

Oct. 16: Me by Elton John

Oct. 23: Year of the Monkey by Patti Smith