Robert Dean Lurie’s biography is the first completely researched and written since R.E.M. disbanded in 2011. It offers by far the most detailed account of their
formative years—the early lives of the band members, their first encounters with one another, their legendary debut show, touring out of the back of a van, initial recordings, their shrewdly paced rise to fame.
The people and places of ‘the South’ are crucial to the R.E.M. story in ways much more complex and interesting than have been presented thus far, says Lurie, who explores the myriad ways in which the band’s adopted hometown of Athens, Georgia, and the South in general, have shaped its members and the character and style of their art.
The South is more than the background to this story; it plays a major role: the creative ferment that erupted in Athens and gripped many of its young inhabitants in the late 70s and early 80s drew on regional traditions of outsider art and general cultural out-thereness, and gave rise to a free-spirited music scene that produced the B-52’s and Pylon, and laid the ground for R.E.M.’s subsequent breakout success.
Lurie has tracked down and interviewed numerous figures in the band’s history who were under-represented in or even absent from earlier biographies, and they contribute previously undocumented stories as well as casting a fresh light on the familiar narrative.
It's Halloween night, 1963, in De Pere, Wisconsin. Local children dressed as ghosts, vampires, and hoboes chase one another on and off porches and through the streets, hunting for Dum Dums, Slo Pokes, and thrills. Meanwhile their parents fill the local bars, joking and fighting, bobbing for apples, and dancing to the jukebox. But all is not well. Evelyn Schmidt's life is almost at an end; she's been diagnosed with cancer and given only days to live. She'll be damned if she'll go quietly, though, in the hospital or at home. She's heading for the Idle Hour to drink up a storm, whether her fellow drinkers want her there or not. Steve Omsted is only sixteen, but it seems to him his life might as well be over. He's on academic probation, he's been kicked off the football team, and now his girlfriend has dropped him. He's looking for an easy target for his rage and has set up a nighttime ambush for his victim. Chuck Williams feels like his life hasn't even started yet, but he can't wait any longer. He'll go trick-or-treating, but he doesn't want to end up waxing windows with the other fifth-graders; he's aiming to hang out with the older kids and cause some real trouble. As the evening unfolds, the paths of these and other characters converge in a series of shocking events that will change the lives of all involved. In stark language and with bold, cinematic vision, John Dixon delivers a stunning portrait of a small town at war with itself.
David Nichols tells the story of Australian rock and pop music from 1960 to 1985 – formative years in which the nation cast off its colonial cultural shackles and took on the world.Generously illustrated and scrupulously researched, Dig combines scholarly accuracy with populist flair. Nichols is an unfailingly witty and engaging guide, surveying the fertile and varied landscape of Australian popular music in seven broad historical chapters, interspersed with shorter chapters on some of the more significant figures of each period. The result is a compelling portrait of a music scene that evolves in dynamic interaction with those in the United States and the UK, yet has always retained a strong sense of its own identity and continues to deliver new stars – and cult heroes – to a worldwide audience.Dig is a unique achievement. The few general histories to date have been highlight reels, heavy on illustration and short on detail. And while there have been many excellent books on individual artists, scenes and periods, and a couple of first-rate encylopedias, there’s never been a book that told the whole story of the irresistible growth and sweep of a national music culture. Until now . . .
June Wright wrote this lost gem in the mid-1950s, but consigned it to her bottom drawer after her publisher foolishly rejected it. Perhaps it was a little ahead of its time? Because while it’s a tour de force of the classic ‘country house’ murder mystery, it’s also a delightful romp, poking fun at the conventions of the genre. When someone takes advantage of a duck hunt to murder publisher Athol Sefton at a remote hunting inn, it soon turns out that virtually everyone, guests and staff alike, had a good reason for shooting him. Sefton’s nephew Charles thinks he can solve the crime by applying the “rules of the game” he’s absorbed from his years as a reviewer of detective fiction – only the killer evidently isn’t playing by those rules. Duck Season Death is a both a fiendishly clever whodunit and a marvellous entertainment.
Grizzled homicide detective Bernie “Burnout” Farrell heads the hunt for a serial killer who is murdering call girls around Times Square. Hoping to set up a stakeout, Farrell recruits tall, blonde, ambitious rookie cop Gladyss Chronou for the investigation. But Gladyss believes her mystical yoga practice can give her an intuitive edge in solving the crimes and sees mythological patterns in the suspects and events they’re investigating. Bernie thinks she’s nuts, but then, he's a little too grounded. In fact, he's on a steady downward spiral: his wife is divorcing him, his longtime partner just died of AIDS, and he's developed a nagging cough since working down at Ground Zero.Gladyss of the Hunt oscillates between chilly street realism and new age mysticism. As their investigation takes Bernie and Gladyss from arty society gatherings to shabby hotels and SROs, the narrative offers a suspenseful, often wittily satirical account of a city that is flashy and glamorous one moment, dark and violent the next.
First published in 1948, when it was the best-selling mystery of the year in the author’s native Australia, Murder in the Telephone Exchange stars feisty young operator Maggie Byrnes. When one of her more unpopular colleagues is murdered — her head bashed in with a “buttinski,” a piece of equipment used to listen in on phone calls — Maggie resolves to turn sleuth. Some of her coworkers are acting strangely, and Maggie is convinced she has a better chance of figuring out who is responsible for the killing than the rather stolid police team assigned to the case, who seem to think she herself might have had something to do with it. But then one of her friends is murdered too, and it looks like Maggie might be next. Narrated with verve and wit, this is a whodunit in the tradition of Dorothy L. Sayers and Daphne du Maurier, by turns entertaining and suspenseful, and building to a gripping climax.