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The Vinyl Detective #1
Written in Dead Wax
He is a record collector -a connoisseur of vinyl, hunting out rare and elusive LPs. His business card describes him as the "Vinyl Detective" and some people take this more literally than others. Like the beautiful, mysterious woman who wants to pay him a large sum of money to find a priceless lost recording on behalf of an extremely wealthy, yet shadowy, client. So begins a painful and dangerous odyssey in search of the rarest jazz record of them all...
14 pages, Audiobook
First published May 10, 2016
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May 5, 2016
FULL DISCLOSURE - MY FRIEND WROTE THIS BOOK
But.... I remember reading this as he wrote it and waiting impatiently for the next chapter to arrive. I recently reread it when I ligged my free copy off Andrew and found that it was even better read all the way through in one go. So - for what it's worth - I really liked it. So there.
But.... I remember reading this as he wrote it and waiting impatiently for the next chapter to arrive. I recently reread it when I ligged my free copy off Andrew and found that it was even better read all the way through in one go. So - for what it's worth - I really liked it. So there.
August 25, 2023
I really think my recommendation** says it all, but here's some specifics:
A very, very down-on-his-luck record fan is getting desperate. The estate boiler finally broke, so the choice is to pitch in for a new one or buy in-floor heating on his own. He suffers, but not as much as his twin cats, so when a mysterious, beautiful woman calls on him with a request to find a rare record, he takes the job, and then the subsequent job. You know, classic noir set up, only our hero the Vinyl Detective doesn't keep a bottle of Johnny nearby, and his bestie is more prone to offer a spliff.
And for those of use among us who were born recently, 'records' are plastic/wax thingies that used to be the only way to listen to music, unless it was live.
Once we get past the immediate mystery of why someone wants this record--which becomes a forgotten plot until much later--it's a bit of a relationship story, with V.D. and woman hitting up various London spots known for the missing record. Their search is troubled by a series of coincidental deaths, only V.D. seems to lack the ability to connect the dots. He must be friends with lots of people with bad luck.
I'll avoid going further at the risk of spoilers, except to note two things; one, a significant plot twist is marred by the absolute stupidity of everyone involved. Like deux ex machina level of stupid. I found it curious that everyone's explanations were so unsatisfying without any natural curiosity. It's still a relationshippy story, so am I supposed to blame stupid on that? I admit, it was a temptation.
Second: V.D. takes up (spoiler) which was just dumb, not made clear in the writing, and seemed emotionally inconsistent. But what do I know?
Oh, thirdly, the end doesn't justify the means. I guess I sorta get it. But not really. Seems an awful lot of spilled blood for that resolution It also makes the British police look incompetent, which isn't really fair.
There's a ton of jazz references and jazz music history in here, so you might enjoy it more if you are into that kind of thing, or at least get that kind of passion. If you are one of those people that argue the quality of the various kinds of formats (as a recent music nut did to me when I offered him a free DVD), you might really enjoy this kind of book and it's ode to the fans. Me? Not that kind of a fan.
At any rate, the book was still engaging because hero is a dork who loves his two cats, the heroine a modern kickass babe (sigh), and the mystery engaging if unevenly constructed. I can totally see why reviews on this would be mixed, and no, it is absolutely not up to Peter Grant quality. That said, it was very diverting for me on a headache kind of day, so it falls as a 'win.'
**A fun feature of GR that was removed. Referencing my Wordpress review (thanks, Wordpress, for not randomly changing my work!), I recommended it for fans of hipster thrillers.
A very, very down-on-his-luck record fan is getting desperate. The estate boiler finally broke, so the choice is to pitch in for a new one or buy in-floor heating on his own. He suffers, but not as much as his twin cats, so when a mysterious, beautiful woman calls on him with a request to find a rare record, he takes the job, and then the subsequent job. You know, classic noir set up, only our hero the Vinyl Detective doesn't keep a bottle of Johnny nearby, and his bestie is more prone to offer a spliff.
And for those of use among us who were born recently, 'records' are plastic/wax thingies that used to be the only way to listen to music, unless it was live.
Once we get past the immediate mystery of why someone wants this record--which becomes a forgotten plot until much later--it's a bit of a relationship story, with V.D. and woman hitting up various London spots known for the missing record. Their search is troubled by a series of coincidental deaths, only V.D. seems to lack the ability to connect the dots. He must be friends with lots of people with bad luck.
I'll avoid going further at the risk of spoilers, except to note two things; one, a significant plot twist is marred by the absolute stupidity of everyone involved. Like deux ex machina level of stupid. I found it curious that everyone's explanations were so unsatisfying without any natural curiosity. It's still a relationshippy story, so am I supposed to blame stupid on that? I admit, it was a temptation.
Second: V.D. takes up (spoiler) which was just dumb, not made clear in the writing, and seemed emotionally inconsistent. But what do I know?
Oh, thirdly, the end doesn't justify the means. I guess I sorta get it. But not really. Seems an awful lot of spilled blood for that resolution It also makes the British police look incompetent, which isn't really fair.
There's a ton of jazz references and jazz music history in here, so you might enjoy it more if you are into that kind of thing, or at least get that kind of passion. If you are one of those people that argue the quality of the various kinds of formats (as a recent music nut did to me when I offered him a free DVD), you might really enjoy this kind of book and it's ode to the fans. Me? Not that kind of a fan.
At any rate, the book was still engaging because hero is a dork who loves his two cats, the heroine a modern kickass babe (sigh), and the mystery engaging if unevenly constructed. I can totally see why reviews on this would be mixed, and no, it is absolutely not up to Peter Grant quality. That said, it was very diverting for me on a headache kind of day, so it falls as a 'win.'
**A fun feature of GR that was removed. Referencing my Wordpress review (thanks, Wordpress, for not randomly changing my work!), I recommended it for fans of hipster thrillers.
September 29, 2020
”Just as the low winter sun was sinking in the sky, in a little shop near the bridge in Richmond, I struck gold. An original Elvis RCA red label. It was in beautiful shape. My first impression was that someone had really looked after it. Or, better yet, never played it. I wondered what domestic upheaval--death, house move, existential crisis--had let it being discarded here. When you thought about the series of coincidences that were required for this object to be right here and right now, in my hot little hands, it was dizzying.”
When I was working the book buying counter for a used bookstore in Tucson, which will remain nameless, we would see what seemed like epic tons of books, CDs, vinyl, and bluray/dvds ever day. An avalanche of cast off entertainment that the owners hoped to trade for some jingle in their pocket or trade credit to exchange for some new entertainment. We saw a lot of crap. Books with missing covers, orange Cheetos (please don’t read while eating Cheetos) stains on the edge of the pages, tea stains, wine stains, pages missing, spines cracked nearly in two, and in one case, the remains of a dead cat at the bottom of a trash bag of books. I first knew we had a problem when I found an ear stuck to a Sidney Sheldon book. The CDs/Vinyl/BluRay/DVDs would come in without the case, without the artwork for the case, the wrong discs in the wrong cases, discs that were so scratched that one can only assumed they were used as skateboards, and discs that were actually cracked. So when one of the buyers had something magnificent appear, all the envious buyers would come over to have a look.
”The cover was immaculate. But what was the record going to be like? My hands trembled as I took a look. The LP crackled as it came out of the sleeve, the static electricity causing the hairs on my arms to stir. The black vinyl gleamed. Pristine, virginal and perfect. I could see my reflection in it, grinning foolishly.”
So let’s just say, I know the feeling when the self-styled Vinyl Detective finds this beautiful Elvis LP.
The Vinyl Detective is turning his vast knowledge of music into some sort of a living. He puts on his crate diving shoes, low cut to allow him to squat comfortably as he flips through a crate of LPs. He begins the day always hopeful he will find something he can pop on eBay and keep himself in food and his cats in kibbles. He also is a collector of Jazz, so sometimes what he finds slides onto his own shelves, joining those other precious discoveries that make up a pretty impressive collection.
The Vinyl Detective moniker is a joke. Something he dreamed up late at night when he was whiskey snozzled and decided that was the moment to order business cards.
It is all a joke until Nevada Warren shows up on his doorstep. ”Her face was pale and there were lilac shadows under her eyes. She looked like an undead beauty in some erotic Euro horror flick.”
She takes his card seriously and offers him an outrageous amount of money to find an LP called Easy Come, Easy Go. One of only a handful of records produced by the Hathor label. Given the state of his financial affairs, he really can’t turn down any paying gig, but this proposition makes perfect sense given that looking for LPs is what he does for a living, so why not take the woman’s money? He is going to be in every vinyl shop, fleamarket, second hand store, or charity shop in the city anyway, flipping through their crates of orphaned music. Sure the LP is rare, but that will just make it all the sweeter when he actually finds it.
If he could see the future, he might very well have given her money back and patted her taunt fanny as he ushers her out the door, but then again, as desperate as his financial situation is looking, he may have made that crossroads deal anyway.
Of course, Nevada does not tell him everything, which the bizarre events inspired by this commission soon becomes so mixed into his normal life he can’t separate the nefarious events from his own life.
There are the psychotic Aryan Twins, Heidi and Heinz, who are looking for the same record.
There is the Wales dope dealer, Hughie, who pushes his tomatoes, used to disguises his “cash crop,” almost as fervently as he does his dope.
There are LP collectors/sellers/buyers who keep turning up dead.
There are people following him wherever he goes.
There is a grand mystery about not only Easy Come, Easy Go but all the records produced by Hathor.
There is his dope smoking, Rolling Stones collector friend, Tinkler, who keeps falling down his stairs.
And we mustn’t forget his arch enemy, Stinky, who keeps showing up at inopportune times.
There are even people pointing guns at him. ”It was hard to know the etiquette of being held at gunpoint by a madman.”
There is something about these records that is worth killing for. Our Vinyl Detective does have a theory.
”I said, ‘I think it’s what’s written in the dead wax.’
‘Okay, what’s that?’
‘It’s after the run-out groove, where the needle ends up at the end of the record. There’s a space there where information is written, etched into the vinyl itself.’”
It becomes a mystery that, regardless of the risks, the Vinyl Detective must solve. Each record gives him a few letters of the puzzle.
EA__EG__YIST__FA__________BY
He is going to have to find all the records to solve this ambiguous riddle because no one is going to let him buy any vowels. (I can’t believe I just used a Wheel of Fortune reference.)
The book is frankly hilarious, maybe more so for a consumed, mad collector, like myself, because collectors, whatever they may choose to seek, can understand the insane lengths a collector will go through to complete a collection. You will learn a lot of great insider technical jargon about the record industry. Don’t worry, you won’t find yourself lost in the weeds because Andrew Cartmel has a deft touch with his vinyl geekiness. I would almost call this a cozy for collectors. A guilty pleasure of madness run amok among the crates of castoff LPs. Needless to say, I’m on board for the rest of the series.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
When I was working the book buying counter for a used bookstore in Tucson, which will remain nameless, we would see what seemed like epic tons of books, CDs, vinyl, and bluray/dvds ever day. An avalanche of cast off entertainment that the owners hoped to trade for some jingle in their pocket or trade credit to exchange for some new entertainment. We saw a lot of crap. Books with missing covers, orange Cheetos (please don’t read while eating Cheetos) stains on the edge of the pages, tea stains, wine stains, pages missing, spines cracked nearly in two, and in one case, the remains of a dead cat at the bottom of a trash bag of books. I first knew we had a problem when I found an ear stuck to a Sidney Sheldon book. The CDs/Vinyl/BluRay/DVDs would come in without the case, without the artwork for the case, the wrong discs in the wrong cases, discs that were so scratched that one can only assumed they were used as skateboards, and discs that were actually cracked. So when one of the buyers had something magnificent appear, all the envious buyers would come over to have a look.
”The cover was immaculate. But what was the record going to be like? My hands trembled as I took a look. The LP crackled as it came out of the sleeve, the static electricity causing the hairs on my arms to stir. The black vinyl gleamed. Pristine, virginal and perfect. I could see my reflection in it, grinning foolishly.”
So let’s just say, I know the feeling when the self-styled Vinyl Detective finds this beautiful Elvis LP.
The Vinyl Detective is turning his vast knowledge of music into some sort of a living. He puts on his crate diving shoes, low cut to allow him to squat comfortably as he flips through a crate of LPs. He begins the day always hopeful he will find something he can pop on eBay and keep himself in food and his cats in kibbles. He also is a collector of Jazz, so sometimes what he finds slides onto his own shelves, joining those other precious discoveries that make up a pretty impressive collection.
The Vinyl Detective moniker is a joke. Something he dreamed up late at night when he was whiskey snozzled and decided that was the moment to order business cards.
It is all a joke until Nevada Warren shows up on his doorstep. ”Her face was pale and there were lilac shadows under her eyes. She looked like an undead beauty in some erotic Euro horror flick.”
She takes his card seriously and offers him an outrageous amount of money to find an LP called Easy Come, Easy Go. One of only a handful of records produced by the Hathor label. Given the state of his financial affairs, he really can’t turn down any paying gig, but this proposition makes perfect sense given that looking for LPs is what he does for a living, so why not take the woman’s money? He is going to be in every vinyl shop, fleamarket, second hand store, or charity shop in the city anyway, flipping through their crates of orphaned music. Sure the LP is rare, but that will just make it all the sweeter when he actually finds it.
If he could see the future, he might very well have given her money back and patted her taunt fanny as he ushers her out the door, but then again, as desperate as his financial situation is looking, he may have made that crossroads deal anyway.
Of course, Nevada does not tell him everything, which the bizarre events inspired by this commission soon becomes so mixed into his normal life he can’t separate the nefarious events from his own life.
There are the psychotic Aryan Twins, Heidi and Heinz, who are looking for the same record.
There is the Wales dope dealer, Hughie, who pushes his tomatoes, used to disguises his “cash crop,” almost as fervently as he does his dope.
There are LP collectors/sellers/buyers who keep turning up dead.
There are people following him wherever he goes.
There is a grand mystery about not only Easy Come, Easy Go but all the records produced by Hathor.
There is his dope smoking, Rolling Stones collector friend, Tinkler, who keeps falling down his stairs.
And we mustn’t forget his arch enemy, Stinky, who keeps showing up at inopportune times.
There are even people pointing guns at him. ”It was hard to know the etiquette of being held at gunpoint by a madman.”
There is something about these records that is worth killing for. Our Vinyl Detective does have a theory.
”I said, ‘I think it’s what’s written in the dead wax.’
‘Okay, what’s that?’
‘It’s after the run-out groove, where the needle ends up at the end of the record. There’s a space there where information is written, etched into the vinyl itself.’”
It becomes a mystery that, regardless of the risks, the Vinyl Detective must solve. Each record gives him a few letters of the puzzle.
EA__EG__YIST__FA__________BY
He is going to have to find all the records to solve this ambiguous riddle because no one is going to let him buy any vowels. (I can’t believe I just used a Wheel of Fortune reference.)
The book is frankly hilarious, maybe more so for a consumed, mad collector, like myself, because collectors, whatever they may choose to seek, can understand the insane lengths a collector will go through to complete a collection. You will learn a lot of great insider technical jargon about the record industry. Don’t worry, you won’t find yourself lost in the weeds because Andrew Cartmel has a deft touch with his vinyl geekiness. I would almost call this a cozy for collectors. A guilty pleasure of madness run amok among the crates of castoff LPs. Needless to say, I’m on board for the rest of the series.
If you wish to see more of my most recent book and movie reviews, visit http://www.jeffreykeeten.com
I also have a Facebook blogger page at:https://www.facebook.com/JeffreyKeeten
June 30, 2018
An effort better in conception than in completion.
Cartmel earns a few points for a truly original idea for a murder mystery, and his characters are better than two dimensional, so good on him. His background in editing and writing for TV shows to good effect as well. The scene setting details and flow of the story are enjoyable and make reading this frothy book feel more substantial than it would otherwise. The audiophile geek-out moments are spaced out nicely, and are minimally dull. So again, points to Cartmel.
Now for the points subtracted. Most of what is weak about this book is plot related, and so a spoiler, so I will speak in generalities. The greatest weakness of Cartmel's effort is the impossibly weak motivation for the trail of mayhem, arson, and bodies we are shown. Where the hell is law enforcement during this blood bath? I have to ask, while marveling that our hero just carries on as before. Then there are timing problems that are just ignored because they derail the plot train, and endless questions about why the Aryan Twins are waiting for our hero to show them where to go. It would make much more sense for them to kill our hero and then look for the LP themselves at a leisurely pace. Then there is the mysterious gravity that seems to pull every ancient bebop musician and collector into a circle of thirty kilometers of wherever he is, and how just the right people contact him with just the right information to push him on to the next step. The coincidences in this novel simply defy belief. Then there are the crappy dorm room stereotypes who stand in for friends. Hahahhahahah, the stoner friend who falls down the stairs. Hahahahahaha, the guy everybody hates and yet can't seem to get rid of because he has always just been there. These "friends"are cartoony laugh tracks stolen from any 1990s sit-com, are stupid, and just pop in occasionally to tell the hero how lucky he is to have such sweet babes and to give other similar ego boosts. These are not friends, they are expository tools that add no value.
However, there were two things in particular that pushed this review down to a 2-star, approaching 1.5 really: the women, and the Hathor Label.
The women of this world are all somewhere in their 20's, tawny, lean, love cars, ready to party, and always ready for casual sex that somehow morphs into something more serious but never quite arrives at a commitment. These women characters are the epitome of the Cool-Girl trope, and are basically a dude in a hot-girl's body. Creepily, I really think this is how Cartmel sees women because when he has a chance to describe a 1950s woman through her diary he has her in her 20s, loving cars, ready to party, and totally DTF. These pseudo-women are caricatures of a caricature, suck all the air out of the story, and irritate me on every page.
Then there is the Hathor Label, a synthetic plot device that only exists to serve a cryptographic need. All I can say is....wow they sure were lucky that there were fourteen issues on that label, and that the artists involved knew that when they created their code. Makes you wonder why she didn't just write it in her diary...? Makes more sense to me than hoping that some descendant figures out there is a message anyway.
Had the book paid off in some way more than just reaching the end of the story I may have forgiven some of these sins, but the astonishingly stupid final chapters just reeked of contrivance and looking for an exit. I figure this effort as a well deserved 1.5 rounded up, even though I will concede that the book is very readable and I might read the next book in the series if I have nothing else to read.
Cartmel earns a few points for a truly original idea for a murder mystery, and his characters are better than two dimensional, so good on him. His background in editing and writing for TV shows to good effect as well. The scene setting details and flow of the story are enjoyable and make reading this frothy book feel more substantial than it would otherwise. The audiophile geek-out moments are spaced out nicely, and are minimally dull. So again, points to Cartmel.
Now for the points subtracted. Most of what is weak about this book is plot related, and so a spoiler, so I will speak in generalities. The greatest weakness of Cartmel's effort is the impossibly weak motivation for the trail of mayhem, arson, and bodies we are shown. Where the hell is law enforcement during this blood bath? I have to ask, while marveling that our hero just carries on as before. Then there are timing problems that are just ignored because they derail the plot train, and endless questions about why the Aryan Twins are waiting for our hero to show them where to go. It would make much more sense for them to kill our hero and then look for the LP themselves at a leisurely pace. Then there is the mysterious gravity that seems to pull every ancient bebop musician and collector into a circle of thirty kilometers of wherever he is, and how just the right people contact him with just the right information to push him on to the next step. The coincidences in this novel simply defy belief. Then there are the crappy dorm room stereotypes who stand in for friends. Hahahhahahah, the stoner friend who falls down the stairs. Hahahahahaha, the guy everybody hates and yet can't seem to get rid of because he has always just been there. These "friends"are cartoony laugh tracks stolen from any 1990s sit-com, are stupid, and just pop in occasionally to tell the hero how lucky he is to have such sweet babes and to give other similar ego boosts. These are not friends, they are expository tools that add no value.
However, there were two things in particular that pushed this review down to a 2-star, approaching 1.5 really: the women, and the Hathor Label.
The women of this world are all somewhere in their 20's, tawny, lean, love cars, ready to party, and always ready for casual sex that somehow morphs into something more serious but never quite arrives at a commitment. These women characters are the epitome of the Cool-Girl trope, and are basically a dude in a hot-girl's body. Creepily, I really think this is how Cartmel sees women because when he has a chance to describe a 1950s woman through her diary he has her in her 20s, loving cars, ready to party, and totally DTF. These pseudo-women are caricatures of a caricature, suck all the air out of the story, and irritate me on every page.
Then there is the Hathor Label, a synthetic plot device that only exists to serve a cryptographic need. All I can say is....wow they sure were lucky that there were fourteen issues on that label, and that the artists involved knew that when they created their code. Makes you wonder why she didn't just write it in her diary...? Makes more sense to me than hoping that some descendant figures out there is a message anyway.
Had the book paid off in some way more than just reaching the end of the story I may have forgiven some of these sins, but the astonishingly stupid final chapters just reeked of contrivance and looking for an exit. I figure this effort as a well deserved 1.5 rounded up, even though I will concede that the book is very readable and I might read the next book in the series if I have nothing else to read.
October 4, 2018
Pleasant diversion, with fast-moving prose, even with the mind numbingly boring stuff about vinyl and audio purity. There were a number of plot points that made no sense, and the book's two parts felt in some ways like two separate books. And honestly, the women! The main character never felt like anything more than a schlub to me, despite his super-sensitive ability to distinguish the minute differences between various recordings and his love for good coffee. So why the heck were two attractive women almost immediately falling into bed with him? And each woman felt too much like a dream/wish fulfillment object, being slim and beautiful and having interests that schlub would immediately find dovetailed with his interests, and finding him attractive for no discernible reason. There is potential in this series, but the women need to be greatly improved to keep me interested.
On the other hand, the two cats that lived with schlub, Fanny and Turk, behaved like cats, which I liked.
On the other hand, the two cats that lived with schlub, Fanny and Turk, behaved like cats, which I liked.
April 20, 2019
This book is an example of hipster noir.
I bought this on the recommendation of Ben Aaronovitch. He included a bit of logrolling for it in the Afterward of Rivers of London: Body Work . That Cartmel is a crony of Aaronovitch is obvious from the beginning. They are similar style-wise, especially in the use of genre music and London geography edutainment . In addition, I found an almost identical snippet of prose in this book as found in The Hanging Tree. It regards the location of a London hospital and its name.
Right from the beginning this story adopts the old-fashioned noir of the Dashell Hammett/Raymond Chandler style. In this case, its the beautiful, mysterious woman arriving at the door needing professional services. Then its pretty much a crawl through the hipster, vinyl recording demimonde. Tongue is firmly in cheek throughout.
I found that the main character is an unnamed hipster to be amusing.
Prose was OK. Dialog was better than descriptive prose. At first I found the protagonist's badinage clever, but it persisted too long. You can only be too clever, for so long? There was also a too cutesy element with the protagonist's cats to contend with. I have little patience for the Kitty Cliche.
Plotting was a by-the-numbers noir PI story with a Brit, hipster failed DJ as the protagonist. I liked it-- in the beginning. Quickly, it was obvious The Dude had a lucky rabbit's foot in each pocket. Serendipity reigned!
This story very much reminded me of The Big Lebowski (1998) -- in London. Its a Raymond Chandler-esque noir story, which formed the base of the plot in which the city and hipster-vinyl music fetishism might as well be characters. This story started off well, but faltered mid-way through. I only managed to finish it through dogged determination.
I won't be reading the second book in the series The Run-Out Groove, despite the author having some interesting bits. Life is too short, and reading time too precious to waste on flawed mystery fiction.
Readers who are intersteted in hipster noir might want to read Run Baby Run .
I bought this on the recommendation of Ben Aaronovitch. He included a bit of logrolling for it in the Afterward of Rivers of London: Body Work . That Cartmel is a crony of Aaronovitch is obvious from the beginning. They are similar style-wise, especially in the use of genre music and London geography edutainment . In addition, I found an almost identical snippet of prose in this book as found in The Hanging Tree. It regards the location of a London hospital and its name.
Right from the beginning this story adopts the old-fashioned noir of the Dashell Hammett/Raymond Chandler style. In this case, its the beautiful, mysterious woman arriving at the door needing professional services. Then its pretty much a crawl through the hipster, vinyl recording demimonde. Tongue is firmly in cheek throughout.
I found that the main character is an unnamed hipster to be amusing.
Prose was OK. Dialog was better than descriptive prose. At first I found the protagonist's badinage clever, but it persisted too long. You can only be too clever, for so long? There was also a too cutesy element with the protagonist's cats to contend with. I have little patience for the Kitty Cliche.
Plotting was a by-the-numbers noir PI story with a Brit, hipster failed DJ as the protagonist. I liked it-- in the beginning. Quickly, it was obvious The Dude had a lucky rabbit's foot in each pocket. Serendipity reigned!
This story very much reminded me of The Big Lebowski (1998) -- in London. Its a Raymond Chandler-esque noir story, which formed the base of the plot in which the city and hipster-vinyl music fetishism might as well be characters. This story started off well, but faltered mid-way through. I only managed to finish it through dogged determination.
I won't be reading the second book in the series The Run-Out Groove, despite the author having some interesting bits. Life is too short, and reading time too precious to waste on flawed mystery fiction.
Readers who are intersteted in hipster noir might want to read Run Baby Run .
February 28, 2017
Andrew Cartmel's Written in Dead Wax, the first book in the adventures of the Vinyl Detective, is a special book. It is exciting in a special way, written by a writer who has been a script editor for the Dr. Who television series and a writer of comic books. That brings a specific set of skills, which isn't necessarily the ability to create cliff hanger scenes, but it does involve the ability to create a story line full of vivid scenes that stick in the mind.
The plot is simple enough. The Vinyl Detective gets hired to find a certain vinyl LP, one in a a series of 14 from a defunct record company. And the chase is on. You learn something about LP collecting and collectors, something about early jazz and jazz from the swing period, something about a lot of things. The object of the search is not a real LP as far as I can tell, but many other ones mentioned in the book are. And then the search get even more complicated when it comes necessary to find all of the 14 LPs. I pulled out some of my books about jazz recordings, starting with Gunther Shuller's Early Jazz: Its Roots and Musical Development, as I read the book. It is obvious that Cartmel knows a lot about jazz. You don't even have to be a fan of jazz to like the book, but it makes it more interesting if you are.
One of my GoodReads friends (here is John's own review, https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...) pointed out the likeability of the protagonist and I think that that is one of the reasons the book worked for me also. I can appreciate novels where nobody is particularly likeable, but this one works better because the Vinyl Detective is likeable. There is a tone or mood in this book that reminds me of the British detective television series, Anna Lee, starring Imogene Stubbs as a private detective, from the early 1990s. And I think that comes from the quirky characters who are friends of the main character. What didn't work for me in the book was the description of London (and the UK) and then of Los Angeles where the second half of the book was set. Cartmel's vividness for me really pertains mainly to his action scenes and not to any description of the environment in which the action is taking place. No one would ever mistake his writing about LA for Michael Connelly's description of that city in the Harry Bosch books.
Put simply, the book is fun. In the end, it wraps up things nicely. But the Vinyl Detective is coming back in a sequel. I've already pre-ordered that sequel.
The plot is simple enough. The Vinyl Detective gets hired to find a certain vinyl LP, one in a a series of 14 from a defunct record company. And the chase is on. You learn something about LP collecting and collectors, something about early jazz and jazz from the swing period, something about a lot of things. The object of the search is not a real LP as far as I can tell, but many other ones mentioned in the book are. And then the search get even more complicated when it comes necessary to find all of the 14 LPs. I pulled out some of my books about jazz recordings, starting with Gunther Shuller's Early Jazz: Its Roots and Musical Development, as I read the book. It is obvious that Cartmel knows a lot about jazz. You don't even have to be a fan of jazz to like the book, but it makes it more interesting if you are.
One of my GoodReads friends (here is John's own review, https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...) pointed out the likeability of the protagonist and I think that that is one of the reasons the book worked for me also. I can appreciate novels where nobody is particularly likeable, but this one works better because the Vinyl Detective is likeable. There is a tone or mood in this book that reminds me of the British detective television series, Anna Lee, starring Imogene Stubbs as a private detective, from the early 1990s. And I think that comes from the quirky characters who are friends of the main character. What didn't work for me in the book was the description of London (and the UK) and then of Los Angeles where the second half of the book was set. Cartmel's vividness for me really pertains mainly to his action scenes and not to any description of the environment in which the action is taking place. No one would ever mistake his writing about LA for Michael Connelly's description of that city in the Harry Bosch books.
Put simply, the book is fun. In the end, it wraps up things nicely. But the Vinyl Detective is coming back in a sequel. I've already pre-ordered that sequel.
June 8, 2017
The quote from Ben Aaronovitch on the front cover actually is a fairly good clue as to what’s inside. Not the quote itself, but the source. ‘The Vinyl Detective’ couldn’t have drunk anymore obviously from Aaronovitch’s ‘Rivers of London’ series if the hero had been named Grant Peters. There’s a detective involved in atypical investigations, the detailed geographic knowledge of London and a whole load of jazz references. Fair enough, Aaronovitch has carved out a successful template and Cartmel is following it.
Our hero isn’t really a detective, just a record collector who had business cards printed out once while drunk. But when a young, beautiful woman arrives on his doorstep and asks him to track down a truly obscure record he finds it impossible to resist.
There are flaws here, definitely. The biggest is that he never makes either of the two heroines fully fleshed characters – they both remain gorgeous and mysterious in equal measure. But then this is a very male book, locked in a very male mindset and so it’s not surprising that women are dream girls within it. It’s a detective story meets Nick Hornby’s ‘High Fidelity’, with a languid pace (it befits a book about the appreciation of jazz to have a languid pace) and a habit of alternating its dramatic highlights with scenes of a man looking through boxes in charity shops. And yet, despite that I enjoyed it. No doubt it speaks to the part of me that would like to be tucked away in a man-cave while dreaming of actually being James Bond, but I thought this was a witty tale with a fully realised, if dusty, little world. A series called ‘The Vinyl Detective’ should set out first and foremost to entertain and what we have in these pages is – in a geeky, blokey kind of way – distinctly entertaining.
If you get chance, please visit my blog for book, TV and film reviews - as well as whatever else takes my fancy - at frjameson.com
LIke my Facebook page
Or follow me on Twitter or Instagram: @frjameson.
Our hero isn’t really a detective, just a record collector who had business cards printed out once while drunk. But when a young, beautiful woman arrives on his doorstep and asks him to track down a truly obscure record he finds it impossible to resist.
There are flaws here, definitely. The biggest is that he never makes either of the two heroines fully fleshed characters – they both remain gorgeous and mysterious in equal measure. But then this is a very male book, locked in a very male mindset and so it’s not surprising that women are dream girls within it. It’s a detective story meets Nick Hornby’s ‘High Fidelity’, with a languid pace (it befits a book about the appreciation of jazz to have a languid pace) and a habit of alternating its dramatic highlights with scenes of a man looking through boxes in charity shops. And yet, despite that I enjoyed it. No doubt it speaks to the part of me that would like to be tucked away in a man-cave while dreaming of actually being James Bond, but I thought this was a witty tale with a fully realised, if dusty, little world. A series called ‘The Vinyl Detective’ should set out first and foremost to entertain and what we have in these pages is – in a geeky, blokey kind of way – distinctly entertaining.
If you get chance, please visit my blog for book, TV and film reviews - as well as whatever else takes my fancy - at frjameson.com
LIke my Facebook page
Or follow me on Twitter or Instagram: @frjameson.
August 21, 2017
3.5 stars.
This is a debut mystery novel and it shows in some ways, in the sense that the book is written in two parts and there are two mysteries going on. They could have probably been condensed into one tighter story, and would have been more interesting and shorter.
The unnamed main character is fun, a record collector who made business cards one day in desperation, selling himself as the "vinyl detective." Magically people with money and power find these business cards and hire him to locate a recording that is practically unknown. As a reader it was fun to travel with the detective and his girl of the moment to the various places record collectors know to go for obscure finds in the UK. I have friends who are record collectors, and this kind of behavior seemed accurate. That and reinforcing the floors in your house.
There is one moment that had me laughing for five minutes, because the first woman to come to him really loves cats, and well, I just didn't see where that was going.
This was my book 2 of the whodunitbymail book swap organized over in Litsy, where we are sending along a mystery every month. Fun times for me because I hardly ever read mystery and I'm enjoying reading stuff I wouldn't otherwise.
This is a debut mystery novel and it shows in some ways, in the sense that the book is written in two parts and there are two mysteries going on. They could have probably been condensed into one tighter story, and would have been more interesting and shorter.
The unnamed main character is fun, a record collector who made business cards one day in desperation, selling himself as the "vinyl detective." Magically people with money and power find these business cards and hire him to locate a recording that is practically unknown. As a reader it was fun to travel with the detective and his girl of the moment to the various places record collectors know to go for obscure finds in the UK. I have friends who are record collectors, and this kind of behavior seemed accurate. That and reinforcing the floors in your house.
There is one moment that had me laughing for five minutes, because the first woman to come to him really loves cats, and well, I just didn't see where that was going.
This was my book 2 of the whodunitbymail book swap organized over in Litsy, where we are sending along a mystery every month. Fun times for me because I hardly ever read mystery and I'm enjoying reading stuff I wouldn't otherwise.
November 14, 2022
Read quite a few of the reviews here and although it seemed at times that the plot was secondary, the overall tale is a good’n.
I wasn’t expecting Chaucer or Shakespeare and I can’t believe anyone picking the book up would be. For a writer who had only bits and pieces before, this is a Rip-roaring jaunt. A good British comedy thriller. We need more of these. I’ve started the second, if you haven’t, I’d suggest you begin the first.
I wasn’t expecting Chaucer or Shakespeare and I can’t believe anyone picking the book up would be. For a writer who had only bits and pieces before, this is a Rip-roaring jaunt. A good British comedy thriller. We need more of these. I’ve started the second, if you haven’t, I’d suggest you begin the first.
May 31, 2016
A record collector, describing himself as the Vinyl Detective, gets involved in......the hunt for a rare jazz recording, romance & danger. Cartmel's novel is teriffic fun with some nice touches of humour. A little editing would have tightened the story, but a promising start to the series.
October 10, 2019
I reached the 6-hours point and decided not to finish. There are 7.75-hours left of listening time, which is more than I care to commit to. The pacing and narration is just too leisurely for me. The cats are fun, however, the vinyl is only mildly interesting and I keep losing track of the point of it all.
January 5, 2018
A record collector who describes himself as the 'Vinyl Detective' is always on the search to find rare records in charity shop to sale for a profit. But when he is approached by a mysterious women with he's business card as for a specific record, he was about to embark on a dangerous mystery for he's sinister client.
Cartmel is best known for being script editor on Doctor Who during the Seventh Doctor's era, during that time Ben Aaronovitch (author of Rivers of London) wrote two stories.
The two have become great friends.
So inevitably there will be comparisons between both series, with a mystery to be solved and London being the back drop.
Cartmel's is clearly very found of Jazz music and he's knowledge on the subject really adds to the story, as the detective starts to piece together all the clues.
The final third was really thrilling and I'm looking forward to reading the next in the series.
Cartmel is best known for being script editor on Doctor Who during the Seventh Doctor's era, during that time Ben Aaronovitch (author of Rivers of London) wrote two stories.
The two have become great friends.
So inevitably there will be comparisons between both series, with a mystery to be solved and London being the back drop.
Cartmel's is clearly very found of Jazz music and he's knowledge on the subject really adds to the story, as the detective starts to piece together all the clues.
The final third was really thrilling and I'm looking forward to reading the next in the series.
August 5, 2020
Nameless place-holder white guy with no detective-skills whatsoever is hired and payed royally for walking to the thriftshop and skimming through the records on sale. And because he's making such a damn impressive job of doing it, the drop-dead gorgeous supermodel, who's been hired to watch him going to the thriftshops but doesn't actually do so because she got distracted by the unexpected shopping-opportunity, jumps into bed with him. Well... I guess she simply couldn't resist the fact that he had cats or all that fascinating information about records and how to play them correctly... I mean... Roawr... There was an original idea somewhere hidden in this. The author definitelly should stop writing women though...or characters in general... Just write about records, dude, you seem to get them. People... not so much.
September 21, 2020
This book has EVERYTHING: A thrilling mystery, cats, tons of vinyl, mysterious and evil villains, cats, London, humour, beautiful female protagonists (one of whom adores cats), reliable cab drivers, charity shops, boot sales, record fairs, jazz, and did I mention the cats?
It's gripping. It's fantastic. And you should read it immediately! You will not regret it.
It's gripping. It's fantastic. And you should read it immediately! You will not regret it.
February 4, 2017
Really a 3.5 for the story itself, but rounded up for the excellent narration. Tough to review this one without spoilers, and I hate rehashing plots, so I'll try to give a plot structure in terms of what to expect . . .
Our un-named hero is slogging along from paycheck to paycheck (not enough money to heat his flat) selling rare records when he's made an offer to track down one the 1950's. So, off he goes on his quest, along with a "minder" from his new employer, Nevada. Unfortunately, there are others, a very nasty pair, on the same trail. Midway through the book, there's a "crisis point" (shall we call it), where the focus shifts from working with Nevada on that album, to locating the entire limited output of its producer on behalf of an American gal called Ree (audio, so never saw the spelling), with the location shifting from London to Los Angeles. This is signaled by having the "record" flipped from Side A to Side B, which I thought clever.
That's about as much as I can say about the plot without straying into spoiler territory. What really worked for me was that the guy is incredibly likeable, rooting for him is as natural as breathing. There's a sort of "assistant" called Tinkler in both parts, who came across as a bit dim, but loyal (could have been the narrator's voice); he accompanies the two on some of the British adventures, while serving as a sounding board by phone and email in the second part. The book seemed longer than it actually was, but I didn't feel bogged down by jazz/technical stuff as much as other reviewers seem to have been. Even the minor (tertiary) characters were interesting enough to help carry things along.
So why not five stars? Well, I found I had to suspend disbelief to accept some of the events. For example, our hero lives in a bungalow(?) with no central heating in London. I would assume the pipes would freeze, although he seems to have a functioning hot water heater. Also, he has no car in London so isn't used to driving there, but effortlessly (it's implied) tools around right-driving Los Angeles traffic? And then there's the resolution itself, which I obviously can't reveal, which was too neat (clever) for me, although I was pleased for him regarding its effect on his personal life. Another slight minus concerned the taxi driver kept on a retainer for their London excursions, Agatha. The woman has a shaved head, so they take to referring to her as Clean Head for a nickname, which I found mildly creepy.
Audio narration was absolutely brilliant. I'm assuming the guy is English, so does a range of British accents well; what impressed me was that he did many American voices well, too, without resorting to stereotypical American accents. Moreover, he lucks out regarding female voices that Nevada's speech is what is known as (relatively) "posh", Clean Head is Cockney(?), and Rhee speaks Standard American English, so one doesn't feel it's the same re-used voice.
Definitely recommend - looking forward to the upcoming sequel!
Our un-named hero is slogging along from paycheck to paycheck (not enough money to heat his flat) selling rare records when he's made an offer to track down one the 1950's. So, off he goes on his quest, along with a "minder" from his new employer, Nevada. Unfortunately, there are others, a very nasty pair, on the same trail. Midway through the book, there's a "crisis point" (shall we call it), where the focus shifts from working with Nevada on that album, to locating the entire limited output of its producer on behalf of an American gal called Ree (audio, so never saw the spelling), with the location shifting from London to Los Angeles. This is signaled by having the "record" flipped from Side A to Side B, which I thought clever.
That's about as much as I can say about the plot without straying into spoiler territory. What really worked for me was that the guy is incredibly likeable, rooting for him is as natural as breathing. There's a sort of "assistant" called Tinkler in both parts, who came across as a bit dim, but loyal (could have been the narrator's voice); he accompanies the two on some of the British adventures, while serving as a sounding board by phone and email in the second part. The book seemed longer than it actually was, but I didn't feel bogged down by jazz/technical stuff as much as other reviewers seem to have been. Even the minor (tertiary) characters were interesting enough to help carry things along.
So why not five stars? Well, I found I had to suspend disbelief to accept some of the events. For example, our hero lives in a bungalow(?) with no central heating in London. I would assume the pipes would freeze, although he seems to have a functioning hot water heater. Also, he has no car in London so isn't used to driving there, but effortlessly (it's implied) tools around right-driving Los Angeles traffic? And then there's the resolution itself, which I obviously can't reveal, which was too neat (clever) for me, although I was pleased for him regarding its effect on his personal life. Another slight minus concerned the taxi driver kept on a retainer for their London excursions, Agatha. The woman has a shaved head, so they take to referring to her as Clean Head for a nickname, which I found mildly creepy.
Audio narration was absolutely brilliant. I'm assuming the guy is English, so does a range of British accents well; what impressed me was that he did many American voices well, too, without resorting to stereotypical American accents. Moreover, he lucks out regarding female voices that Nevada's speech is what is known as (relatively) "posh", Clean Head is Cockney(?), and Rhee speaks Standard American English, so one doesn't feel it's the same re-used voice.
Definitely recommend - looking forward to the upcoming sequel!
January 9, 2022
Written in Dead Wax is a mystery with an inane plot and more ridiculous plot turnarounds than you can imagine.
That said, the book does capture some of the atmosphere of the used vinyl world. (I can recall wanting to take a shower or at least wash my hands immediately after leaving various stores, thrift shops, or record fairs.)
And, as a jazz fan, I found myself one-upped by Andrew Cartmel at least twice. In a passage where the protagonist is filing records and is thinking about Duke Ellington's vocalists, he mentions that Duke had worked with Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday. That threw up a red flag for me. I knew that Ella Fitzgerald had recorded with Ellington's band but, as far as I knew, Billie Holiday had never recorded with Ellington. Well, I did a search and it turns out I was wrong. She made a movie short with the Ellington band in the mid 1930's and was captured on a mid 1940's radio recording with the Ellington band (though with Billy Strayhorn replacing Duke on piano). That's not the first time I've been wrong about something. Over my lifetime, I've known I was right and then found I was wrong too many times to admit without being completely embarrassed. (An aside - Andrew Cartmel gets the mention about Ellington's vocalists right. He had a few good ones, but had many mediocre to horrible singers on his recordings. And, as Cartmel's character speculates, perhaps that was because he wanted attention to be paid to his band and not to a vocalist, as so often happens.)
Also, early on in the novel, the unnamed protagonist plays a Claude Thornhill tune, "Snowfall" to impress a woman named Nevada (which means snowfall in Spanish, something else I hadn't known before reading this novel). I was always too hip to listen to Claude Thornhill, but after reading this passage, I did listen to "Snowfall" and several other Thornhill recordings online, and liked what I heard. I mentioned my new interest in an email to a good friend, and he's sending me an extra Thornhill CD he has, so now I'll hear even more of Thornhill's music.
I don't the patience to deal with tube (valve, in England) amps or Quad electrostatic speakers - both owned by the novel's protagonist - but I enjoyed seeing the type of speakers I've listened to for forty years mentioned as being owned by a fictional legendary recording engineer.
Writing the above, I was almost tempted to up my rating to four stars. But then I remembered that the novel's main character nicknamed a female cab driver with a shaved head, Clean Head, as a tribute to the singer and saxophonist Eddie Vinson. An editor or someone should have let him know that it was Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson, not "Clean Head". Jazz fans, and music fans in general, can be very picky about such things. So I'll stick with three stars.
As you can probably tell, Written in Dead Wax will probably hold much more interest for jazz fans than it will for general readers. I obviously enjoyed some of the music related atmosphere, but the plot was just plain absurd.
That said, the book does capture some of the atmosphere of the used vinyl world. (I can recall wanting to take a shower or at least wash my hands immediately after leaving various stores, thrift shops, or record fairs.)
And, as a jazz fan, I found myself one-upped by Andrew Cartmel at least twice. In a passage where the protagonist is filing records and is thinking about Duke Ellington's vocalists, he mentions that Duke had worked with Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday. That threw up a red flag for me. I knew that Ella Fitzgerald had recorded with Ellington's band but, as far as I knew, Billie Holiday had never recorded with Ellington. Well, I did a search and it turns out I was wrong. She made a movie short with the Ellington band in the mid 1930's and was captured on a mid 1940's radio recording with the Ellington band (though with Billy Strayhorn replacing Duke on piano). That's not the first time I've been wrong about something. Over my lifetime, I've known I was right and then found I was wrong too many times to admit without being completely embarrassed. (An aside - Andrew Cartmel gets the mention about Ellington's vocalists right. He had a few good ones, but had many mediocre to horrible singers on his recordings. And, as Cartmel's character speculates, perhaps that was because he wanted attention to be paid to his band and not to a vocalist, as so often happens.)
Also, early on in the novel, the unnamed protagonist plays a Claude Thornhill tune, "Snowfall" to impress a woman named Nevada (which means snowfall in Spanish, something else I hadn't known before reading this novel). I was always too hip to listen to Claude Thornhill, but after reading this passage, I did listen to "Snowfall" and several other Thornhill recordings online, and liked what I heard. I mentioned my new interest in an email to a good friend, and he's sending me an extra Thornhill CD he has, so now I'll hear even more of Thornhill's music.
I don't the patience to deal with tube (valve, in England) amps or Quad electrostatic speakers - both owned by the novel's protagonist - but I enjoyed seeing the type of speakers I've listened to for forty years mentioned as being owned by a fictional legendary recording engineer.
Writing the above, I was almost tempted to up my rating to four stars. But then I remembered that the novel's main character nicknamed a female cab driver with a shaved head, Clean Head, as a tribute to the singer and saxophonist Eddie Vinson. An editor or someone should have let him know that it was Eddie "Cleanhead" Vinson, not "Clean Head". Jazz fans, and music fans in general, can be very picky about such things. So I'll stick with three stars.
As you can probably tell, Written in Dead Wax will probably hold much more interest for jazz fans than it will for general readers. I obviously enjoyed some of the music related atmosphere, but the plot was just plain absurd.
February 9, 2022
He joking called himself the Vinyl Detective, but that brought a beautiful woman to his door. Her employer wants him to track down a very rare jazz record. Considering the fee he would get, he quickly agrees to the job. However, when a dead body turns up and someone starts following him, the question becomes will he find the record? Or is it even worth it?
I was amused to discover after I’d finished the book that we never do get the main character’s name. However, reading the book, it never felt awkward, especially with the first-person narration. And that didn’t lessen the character at all. In fact, he leads a great cast that I enjoyed spending time with. Unfortunately, the plot was slow and repetitive. There were some good twists and complications, but they were too few. Plus, we were left with some questions that needed to be answered. On the other hand, I really did enjoy the banter between the characters; this had me chuckling and laughing as I read. I was curious about the series, but I doubt I will be back for more.
Read my full review at Carstairs Considers.
I was amused to discover after I’d finished the book that we never do get the main character’s name. However, reading the book, it never felt awkward, especially with the first-person narration. And that didn’t lessen the character at all. In fact, he leads a great cast that I enjoyed spending time with. Unfortunately, the plot was slow and repetitive. There were some good twists and complications, but they were too few. Plus, we were left with some questions that needed to be answered. On the other hand, I really did enjoy the banter between the characters; this had me chuckling and laughing as I read. I was curious about the series, but I doubt I will be back for more.
Read my full review at Carstairs Considers.
December 26, 2022
DNF - Couldn't make it to even the half-way point before I threw this on the fire. I totally get the collecting fetish as I am a recovering book hoarder, but I hate music geeks who somehow think that what they listen to is above and apart from what the lumpen prols have on their sound systems. In real life, most of these dorks don't know a single thing about music.
Then there was the main character. A cat guy. Sorry, it's not even like I hate cats but cat people are douchey. The femme fatal was sort of a dim hag. Then there is the whole thing about not much of anything happening. I tried, I really, honestly tried.
Then there was the main character. A cat guy. Sorry, it's not even like I hate cats but cat people are douchey. The femme fatal was sort of a dim hag. Then there is the whole thing about not much of anything happening. I tried, I really, honestly tried.
May 12, 2016
This is a delightful and unusual mystery. The author is a friend and colleague of Ben Aaronovitch, author of the Rivers of London series, one of my all time favorites. He encouraged Cartmel to begin this series, and I thank him for that. I look forward to the next books in the series!
April 26, 2018
I really tried to like this book, seeing as the author co-writes the Rivers of London graphic novels.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't get enthused with any of the characters or interested in them.
Perservered because I hoped it would get better. It didn't.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't get enthused with any of the characters or interested in them.
Perservered because I hoped it would get better. It didn't.
March 21, 2019
The Vinyl Detective is just a moniker our main character slapped on a business card after a night of drinking and he's left a few of those cards around town - enough to know he'll never actually get hired ...until the mysterious Nevada Warren appears at his door, card in hand.
Nevada works for a businessman at a large company, both of which shall remain nameless, and has been tasked with recruiting our main character to find a rare jazz record from the ill-fated Hathor record label of the 1950's.
Nevada accompanies him through every record shop, flea market, and charity shop in and surrounding London on the quest for the album titled Easy Come, Easy Go by legendary jazz musician Easy Geary.
It seems that suddenly anyone who may have a copy or a lead on the LP is turning up dead under highly suspicious circumstances. This doesn't stop our MC, in fact it seems to spur him on in his search, especially when he finds that he's being followed and his pursuers seem to be one step ahead of him at all times.
The search for Easy Come, Easy Go leads to more questions about the Hathor label, which released a grand total of 14 records and was out of business in just one year with a large body count.
What makes these records worth killing for?
Each of the 14 Hathor records include letters scratched into the dead wax (the groove at the end of a record where the needle ends up) that appear to spell out a message. Now the Vinyl Detective needs to find not just one album but the entire collection to solve the case.
This was a great start to a series (I see the fourth book is about to be released!) full of quirky characters and a fun mystery! There was a heavy dose of humor and the authenticity of an obsessive collector who can't stop himself from flipping through an entire crate of cast-off records in hopes of finding a priceless recording.
I liked that the book is divided into two related cases; the original case is solved but it leads to an even larger mystery surrounding a music label and its musicians.
If you appreciate vinyl and quirky mysteries, this is absolutely a book to stack!
For more full reviews, visit www.rootsandreads.wordpress.com
Nevada works for a businessman at a large company, both of which shall remain nameless, and has been tasked with recruiting our main character to find a rare jazz record from the ill-fated Hathor record label of the 1950's.
Nevada accompanies him through every record shop, flea market, and charity shop in and surrounding London on the quest for the album titled Easy Come, Easy Go by legendary jazz musician Easy Geary.
It seems that suddenly anyone who may have a copy or a lead on the LP is turning up dead under highly suspicious circumstances. This doesn't stop our MC, in fact it seems to spur him on in his search, especially when he finds that he's being followed and his pursuers seem to be one step ahead of him at all times.
The search for Easy Come, Easy Go leads to more questions about the Hathor label, which released a grand total of 14 records and was out of business in just one year with a large body count.
What makes these records worth killing for?
Each of the 14 Hathor records include letters scratched into the dead wax (the groove at the end of a record where the needle ends up) that appear to spell out a message. Now the Vinyl Detective needs to find not just one album but the entire collection to solve the case.
This was a great start to a series (I see the fourth book is about to be released!) full of quirky characters and a fun mystery! There was a heavy dose of humor and the authenticity of an obsessive collector who can't stop himself from flipping through an entire crate of cast-off records in hopes of finding a priceless recording.
I liked that the book is divided into two related cases; the original case is solved but it leads to an even larger mystery surrounding a music label and its musicians.
If you appreciate vinyl and quirky mysteries, this is absolutely a book to stack!
For more full reviews, visit www.rootsandreads.wordpress.com
July 24, 2016
This book was such fun!
Purchased at Powell's in Portland. As bookstores are one of my favorite things. And mystery books are my favorite books. And music is one of my favorite things. I'm always looking to add to my music collection. So a mystery book involving LP's? Yes.
And the lead character has and loves cats. Cats are another one of my favorite things.
I highly recommend this book if you love mysteries, music, records stores, and cats.
Book lovers often talk about how much they love the smell of books. It's not the same when you are digging away at a stack of old records. You feel a bit dirty. Or a lot dirty. But oh, that feeling when you find something you've always wanted, that you once had and have to replace, that you never knew about but once you see it you must have it.
I'm delighted to find out that the adventure continues in more books. I'm in.
Purchased at Powell's in Portland. As bookstores are one of my favorite things. And mystery books are my favorite books. And music is one of my favorite things. I'm always looking to add to my music collection. So a mystery book involving LP's? Yes.
And the lead character has and loves cats. Cats are another one of my favorite things.
I highly recommend this book if you love mysteries, music, records stores, and cats.
Book lovers often talk about how much they love the smell of books. It's not the same when you are digging away at a stack of old records. You feel a bit dirty. Or a lot dirty. But oh, that feeling when you find something you've always wanted, that you once had and have to replace, that you never knew about but once you see it you must have it.
I'm delighted to find out that the adventure continues in more books. I'm in.
January 31, 2020
Not really my cup of tea, passed on to me by a friend so I thought I'd give it a try
Actually the first part (called Side One of course) was quite good fun (worth 3*) with some amusing dialogue and a plot that developed quite nicely.
But for me Side Two is where it all went wrong, plot just fell apart.
Actually the first part (called Side One of course) was quite good fun (worth 3*) with some amusing dialogue and a plot that developed quite nicely.
But for me Side Two is where it all went wrong, plot just fell apart.
November 20, 2018
This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.
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How did it take this long for me to realize that the protagonist had no name? I just noticed that now, three months after reading the book, as I was flipping through the book to refresh my memory -- and then giving up and using the Internet to cheat. Other than the lack of name -- he's a very thoroughly drawn character, so much so that you don't notice little things like no one calling him by name.
I'd initially thought of the book as Rob Fleming (from High Fidelity), P.I. But that's not right -- our protagonist isn't Rob, he's Championship Vinyl's best customer. Someone who can talk to Rob about minutiae of music, who can go toe-to-toe with Dick and Barry in music trivia, who will be there any time they have new vintage records, etc. He's an expert in jazz -- and might as well be an expert in just about everything else. He lives alone, makes enough to get by (but wouldn't mind making more, if he could do it on his terms) and loves his pet cats.
One day, a beautiful woman approaches him with an offer he can't (and doesn't want to) refuse -- on her employer's behalf, she wants to hire him to track down an incredibly rare -- impossibly rare, some would say -- jazz record. It's rare enough that even the reissues are nigh-impossible to track down.
They've not been looking for long, until it's clear that there are a couple of other people who are actively looking for the record (in addition to a handful of people who always have an eye out for it). Then a fellow jazz aficionado is attacked -- and money and violence start surfacing around the vintage vinyl circuit in London. Because that's a thing that happens.
At some point, our protagonist starts to realize there are reasons beyond wanting a complete jazz collection to have the originals, and in conjunction with someone with family ties to the records, he plunges further into the hunt for the record and to uncover whatever dark and violent secrets that are being kept by the record.
This is not a story that should work. But it does -- it absolutely does. It sort of makes sense that this quest starts to involve violence, lethal violence -- and that both sides are prepared for it. The protagonist's reaction to it all is what sells it. This is a guy who just wants to spend time with his cats, track down and listen to good music, and maybe enjoy some female company. He doesn't expect to get plunged into some strange international quest, he doesn't expect to fear for his life, or to have to outsmart people who are prepared to do him harm. It's this nameless guy, the Vinyl Detective, who makes it all work.
In addition to the contemporary hunt for the record (which turns into a hunt for records), there's the story behind the making of the records, the people involved, the reason that people are willing to spend a lot of money to recover the records (in addition to everything else they're willing to do). It's fascinating, believable stuff -- especially the backstory to the recordings. I'd 100% believe that all the backstory actually happened that way, and that Cartmel used that true story as something to frame his novel around.
I don't know how to adequately capture this book (note how long it's taken me to post anything), it's a very clever story, very well told. It's exciting, it's funny (at times), it's heartfelt, it's everything you want in a thriller within a world you don't really think that much about. Not only does this strange premise hold-up well, it's apparently good enough to spawn at least three sequels (two published, one on the way). Don't ask me how it works -- well, it has a lot to do with Cartmel's skill and charm.
Give this guy a shot -- you'll be glad you did (and you'll wish you could listen to his record collection).
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How did it take this long for me to realize that the protagonist had no name? I just noticed that now, three months after reading the book, as I was flipping through the book to refresh my memory -- and then giving up and using the Internet to cheat. Other than the lack of name -- he's a very thoroughly drawn character, so much so that you don't notice little things like no one calling him by name.
I'd initially thought of the book as Rob Fleming (from High Fidelity), P.I. But that's not right -- our protagonist isn't Rob, he's Championship Vinyl's best customer. Someone who can talk to Rob about minutiae of music, who can go toe-to-toe with Dick and Barry in music trivia, who will be there any time they have new vintage records, etc. He's an expert in jazz -- and might as well be an expert in just about everything else. He lives alone, makes enough to get by (but wouldn't mind making more, if he could do it on his terms) and loves his pet cats.
One day, a beautiful woman approaches him with an offer he can't (and doesn't want to) refuse -- on her employer's behalf, she wants to hire him to track down an incredibly rare -- impossibly rare, some would say -- jazz record. It's rare enough that even the reissues are nigh-impossible to track down.
They've not been looking for long, until it's clear that there are a couple of other people who are actively looking for the record (in addition to a handful of people who always have an eye out for it). Then a fellow jazz aficionado is attacked -- and money and violence start surfacing around the vintage vinyl circuit in London. Because that's a thing that happens.
At some point, our protagonist starts to realize there are reasons beyond wanting a complete jazz collection to have the originals, and in conjunction with someone with family ties to the records, he plunges further into the hunt for the record and to uncover whatever dark and violent secrets that are being kept by the record.
This is not a story that should work. But it does -- it absolutely does. It sort of makes sense that this quest starts to involve violence, lethal violence -- and that both sides are prepared for it. The protagonist's reaction to it all is what sells it. This is a guy who just wants to spend time with his cats, track down and listen to good music, and maybe enjoy some female company. He doesn't expect to get plunged into some strange international quest, he doesn't expect to fear for his life, or to have to outsmart people who are prepared to do him harm. It's this nameless guy, the Vinyl Detective, who makes it all work.
In addition to the contemporary hunt for the record (which turns into a hunt for records), there's the story behind the making of the records, the people involved, the reason that people are willing to spend a lot of money to recover the records (in addition to everything else they're willing to do). It's fascinating, believable stuff -- especially the backstory to the recordings. I'd 100% believe that all the backstory actually happened that way, and that Cartmel used that true story as something to frame his novel around.
I don't know how to adequately capture this book (note how long it's taken me to post anything), it's a very clever story, very well told. It's exciting, it's funny (at times), it's heartfelt, it's everything you want in a thriller within a world you don't really think that much about. Not only does this strange premise hold-up well, it's apparently good enough to spawn at least three sequels (two published, one on the way). Don't ask me how it works -- well, it has a lot to do with Cartmel's skill and charm.
Give this guy a shot -- you'll be glad you did (and you'll wish you could listen to his record collection).
May 5, 2016
The unassuming, unnamed hero of this book is known simply as the “vinyl detective:” he finds records for a living. When he finds an especially rare title, he flips it for a tidy profit, which allows him to pay the rent and feed his two cats. His world gets upended one day when a beautiful stranger appears on his doorstep and offers him a large sum to find a rare American pressing of a 1950’s West Coast jazz album. As it turns out, though, there are some other people searching for the same record who are willing to stop at nothing to get it. And this is where the mystery begins, as Cartmel takes his readers on a winding journey through London’s antique shops, junk shops, and resale shops.
This clever, entertaining book will definitely appeal to fans of vinyl, with its descriptions of vintage sound systems and defunct record labels. But it’s a fun read even for those (like me) who don’t know a McIntosh from a Marantz. The vinyl detective is a lovable eccentric, smart but not arrogant, with a dry sense of humor –basically, someone you’d want to hang out with. The mystery, while slow to develop, proves pretty surprising by the end, and while there’s definitely murder in the book, there’s little violence. The first in a new series, the Vinyl Detective is a unique, charming read.
This clever, entertaining book will definitely appeal to fans of vinyl, with its descriptions of vintage sound systems and defunct record labels. But it’s a fun read even for those (like me) who don’t know a McIntosh from a Marantz. The vinyl detective is a lovable eccentric, smart but not arrogant, with a dry sense of humor –basically, someone you’d want to hang out with. The mystery, while slow to develop, proves pretty surprising by the end, and while there’s definitely murder in the book, there’s little violence. The first in a new series, the Vinyl Detective is a unique, charming read.
March 26, 2016
I have never heard of this author but I always enjoy discovering new ones. So glad I did with this author and book. I have listened to a few records from my parents. They owned a record player and it was from my parents that I was introduced to music and developed my love for some of the greats from artists like the Dobbie Brothers, Allman Brothers, and Alabama to name a few. However this does not mean I could relate to the love that the Vinyl Detective had as a connoisseur. Yet the more that I felt his love for music and finding that rare find I got more excited as well. He and Miss Warren were kind of like the Odd couple but they just worked well together and kept things entertaining. I appreciate music more after reading this book. I look forward to reading the next book in this series.
Warning as the "f" word is used some in this book but in a tasteful way. Other then the use of the "f" word I would classify this book as a fun, koozy, cozy mystery.
Warning as the "f" word is used some in this book but in a tasteful way. Other then the use of the "f" word I would classify this book as a fun, koozy, cozy mystery.
May 4, 2020
I thought Written in Dead Wax by Andrew Cartmel would tick all my boxes. I am a music obsessive and this quest for an ultra rare album really appealed to me. However, I got to around halfway and concluded I did not want to finish it.
The story is very flimsy and lacks any credibility. The characters are likeable enough but, despite a surprising amount of death and violence, the story lacked any tension and just got increasingly tedious. It's the wrong side of silly.
I listened to the audiobook which is very well narrated but, ultimately, I was left very underwhelmed and so waved the white flag.
2/5
The story is very flimsy and lacks any credibility. The characters are likeable enough but, despite a surprising amount of death and violence, the story lacked any tension and just got increasingly tedious. It's the wrong side of silly.
I listened to the audiobook which is very well narrated but, ultimately, I was left very underwhelmed and so waved the white flag.
2/5
September 11, 2017
When I first started reading, I thought this was it, I'd finally found the mystery that was going to hit all the right buttons for me, it was clever and quick and well written and featured a really interesting slant. Of course, for the first forty or fifty pages I also mistakenly thought the protagonist was a woman (I'm not sure how I got that notion in my head, and my opinion of the novel increased every time I slipped back into it). The reason that matters more than just my personal taste, is that all the actual female characters in the novel are...well, basically, they're prizes. They're conquests. On top of that, the pacing of the book felt very uneven. That flaw could definitely have been fixed with a bit of doctoring. The problem it seems to have with women...that might take a bit more fundamental work.
November 20, 2020
It had trouble holding me
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