“Rekke [is a] gem of a character . . . Kudos to Lagercrantz and translator Giles for a compelling read.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review) Inspired by Sherlock Holmes, an exhilarating new thriller from the bestselling author of The Girl in the Spider’s Web—a murder investigation in which two unlikely allies race to uncover a shadowy international conspiracy. Professor Hans Rekke is a world authority on interrogation techniques, capable of dizzying feats of logic and observation. He was born into wealth and power and has a picture-perfect wife and daughter. But he also has a fragile psyche that falls apart under pressure. Micaela Vargas is a street-smart police officer, daughter of Chilean political refugees, who grew up in the projects on the outskirts of Stockholm and has two brothers on the wrong side of the law. She is tenacious and uncompromising, and desperate to prove herself to her fellow cops. Micaela needs Hans’s unique mind to help her solve the case of a murdered asylum-seeker from Afghanistan. Hans needs Micaela to save him from himself. Together, they need to find the killer before they’re both silenced for good.

This book focuses on the 'dark side' of popular music by examining the ways in which popular music has been deployed in association with violence. Cloonan and Johnson address the physiological and cognitive foundations of sounding/hearing and provide a historical survey of examples of the nexus between music and violence, from (pre)Biblical times to the late nineteenth century. The book also concentrates on the emergence of technologies by which music can be electronically augmented, generated, and disseminated. The authors investigate the implications of this nexus both for popular music studies itself, and also in cultural policy and regulation, the ethics of citizenship, and arguments about human rights.

Encouraging readers to dream the impossible, The Darkest Dark follows a young boy intrigued by space, but afraid of the dark, inspired by the childhood of real-life astronaut Chris Hadfield and brought to life by Terry and Eric Fan's lush, evocative illustrations. Chris loves rockets and planets and pretending he's a brave astronaut, exploring the universe. Only one problem. At night, Chris doesn't feel so brave. He's afraid of the dark. When he watches the groundbreaking moon landing on TV, Chris learns that space is the darkest dark there is, and through that lesson discovers that the dark isn't just scary, but beautiful and exciting—especially when you have big dreams to keep you company.

Dark Music showcases Mike Trial's range of imagination in five short stories, all with the common thread of music: Pan, the deposed god of the world, was also the god of music. When he played his syrinx the nymphs danced for the pure joy of being alive. But Pan was a moody god and would sometimes lead the unwary down paths to their own destruction. Pan is gone now. Or is he? Perhaps he still exists. Music can soothe, but it can also seduce and destroy.

Why has music so often served as an accomplice to transcendent expressions of gender? Why did the query "is he musical?" become code, in the twentieth century, for "is he gay?" Why is music so inherently queer? For Sasha Geffen, the answers lie, in part, in music’s intrinsic quality of subliminal expression, which, through paradox and contradiction, allows rigid gender roles to fall away in a sensual and ambiguous exchange between performer and listener. Glitter Up the Dark traces the history of this gender fluidity in pop music from the early twentieth century to the present day. Starting with early blues and the Beatles and continuing with performers such as David Bowie, Prince, Missy Elliot, and Frank Ocean, Geffen explores how artists have used music, fashion, language, and technology to break out of the confines mandated by gender essentialism and establish the voice as the primary expression of gender transgression. From glam rock and punk to disco, techno, and hip-hop, music helped set the stage for today’s conversations about trans rights and recognition of nonbinary and third-gender identities. Glitter Up the Dark takes a long look back at the path that led here.

A record of the Cambodian soul, taking readers into the heart of a horrifying tragedy - one that claimed the lives of Daran Kravanh's parents and seven siblings and as many as three million other Cambodians. Daran's talent for playing the accordion saved his own life.

A graveyard, sinister music, a small child's nightmare... A children's tune played on a hurdy-gurdy A small boy's nightmare The same tune played by an old blind beggar outside a foggy graveyard - and heard again by an old, bed-ridden woman And heard again, at the dead of night on a London street corner What is the connection - and why is this disturbing melody the prelude to a brutal crime ...

A probing reading of leftist Jewish poets who, during the interwar period, drew on the trauma of pogroms to depict the suffering of other marginalized peoples. Between the world wars, a generation of Jewish leftist poets reached out to other embattled peoples of the earth—Palestinian Arabs, African Americans, Spanish Republicans—in Yiddish verse. Songs in Dark Times examines the richly layered meanings of this project, grounded in Jewish collective trauma but embracing a global community of the oppressed. The long 1930s, Amelia M. Glaser proposes, gave rise to a genre of internationalist modernism in which tropes of national collective memory were rewritten as the shared experiences of many national groups. The utopian Jews of Songs in Dark Times effectively globalized the pogroms in a bold and sometimes fraught literary move that asserted continuity with anti-Arab violence and black lynching. As communists and fellow travelers, the writers also sought to integrate particular experiences of suffering into a borderless narrative of class struggle. Glaser resurrects their poems from the pages of forgotten Yiddish communist periodicals, particularly the New York–based Morgn Frayhayt (Morning Freedom) and the Soviet literary journal Royte Velt (Red World). Alongside compelling analysis, Glaser includes her own translations of ten poems previously unavailable in English, including Malka Lee’s “God’s Black Lamb,” Moyshe Nadir’s “Closer,” and Esther Shumiatsher’s “At the Border of China.” These poets dreamed of a moment when “we” could mean “we workers” rather than “we Jews.” Songs in Dark Times takes on the beauty and difficulty of that dream, in the minds of Yiddish writers who sought to heal the world by translating pain.

Most pop songs are short-lived. They appear suddenly and, if they catch on, seem to be everywhere at once before disappearing again into obscurity. Yet some songs resonate more deeply—often in ways that reflect broader historical and cultural changes. In Footsteps in the Dark, George Lipsitz illuminates these secret meanings, offering imaginative interpretations of a wide range of popular music genres from jazz to salsa to rock. Sweeping changes that only remotely register in official narratives, Lipsitz argues, can appear in vivid relief within popular music, especially when these changes occur outside mainstream white culture. Using a wealth of revealing examples, he discusses such topics as the emergence of an African American techno music subculture in Detroit as a contradictory case of digital capitalism and the prominence of banda, merengue, and salsa music in the 1990s as an expression of changing Mexican, Dominican, and Puerto Rican nationalisms. Approaching race and popular music from another direction, he analyzes the Ken Burns PBS series Jazz as a largely uncritical celebration of American nationalism that obscures the civil rights era’s challenge to racial inequality, and he takes on the infamous campaigns to censor hip-hop and the radical black voice in the early 1990s. Teeming with astute observations and brilliant insights about race and racism, deindustrialization, and urban renewal and their connections to music, Footsteps in the Dark puts forth an alternate history of post–cold war America and shows why in an era given to easy answers and clichd versions of history, pop songs matter more than ever. George Lipsitz is professor of black studies and sociology at the University of California, Santa Barbara. Among his many books are Life in the Struggle, Dangerous Crossroads, and American Studies in a Moment of Danger (Minnesota, 2001).