They say you should never meet your heroes. Adam Zantz, the protagonist of this novel not only meet one of his but he gets to drive his. Well, technically he meets her through his LYFT driving but soon becomes his hero’s exclusive set of wheels.
Adam is a failed musician, a thirty-seven-year-old man with no plan. Annie Linden is a seventy-three-year-old musical legend on par with other ‘70s famous songstresses; her fame has declined over the years, but that only gave her a sort of cult status. An early feminist icon, etc.
For Adam she quickly becomes a mother-figure, sort of girlfriend replacement, plus, someone with connections who can potentially make all his music dreams come true.
And then, Annie is found dead. Murdered. And Adam, in his grief and his anguish, falls back onto his former experience as an investigator to try and figure out just what happened.
He begins poking around and, before he knows it, his journey is taking him right behind the curtain of Annie’s life (fraught, complicated, messy) and music business (much the same) itself.
Like many people, Annie Linden was more likeable and admirable when shrouded in mystery, but Adam can’t stop, won’t stop. Not until he finds out who killed the last songbird.
A very solid debut from Daniel Weizmann. Well-written, character driven, exciting. The author writes music like someone who really knows music, the way it stays with you, lives with you, defines you. A very LA story–drive all night, bright lights, outsized personalities sort of thing. A very solid neoNoir tone to the narrative. A very solid suspense thriller that has you guessing until the very end. This one works on all levels and entertains plenty. Recommended. Thanks Netgalley.

I really enjoyed reading this, Daniel Weizmann has a great writing style and I loved the neo-noir elements in the story. The plot does a great job in telling the story and I was invested in what was going on in the story. The characters were well-written and were what I was looking for. I can't wait to read more in more from Daniel Weizmann.

"For what is a song if not an invitation to dream? It’s a mystery thing, a little chant, a chariot, a flying vibration that springs from nowhere and doesn’t exactly take you somewhere, doesn’t drive the car, and yet it does. A song is not a house, but it’s a home. The person is singing something."