A trip to the local cemetery draws Hannah into a puzzling case stretching back forty years. It may seem creepy, but Hannah Ives enjoys her expeditions to the local cemetery to help people find their deceased relatives. Usually a quiet affair, Hannah is surprised when she encounters Isabel 'Izzy' Randall laying flowers on the grave of Amy Madison, a college senior who was killed in 1978. Last seen in a popular Annapolis disco bar, Amy's murder remains unsolved. Hannah's interest in the case leads her to join Silent Sleuths, a small, passionate group of 'citizen detectives' dedicated to trying to solve cases like Amy's, and their research soon suggests that Amy may have been the first of several victims targeted by a serial killer. As DNA from the scene of the murder throws up surprising results, their investigation takes them down unexpected avenues. Is Amy's killer still alive, or has an untimely death taken them beyond justice?

The mystery surrounding the disappearance of mobster Mo-Mo Martine in Canada during the days of disco and polyester is finally solved when his body is found in a drum off the sapphire waters of Oahu. An associate (local limb-breaker Harry the Hoarse) asks the pretty private investigators from the Triple Threat Investigation Agency - JJ, Rey, and Linda - to prove it wasn’t his brother-in-law, Johnny B. He’d been accused back then but never arrested, and it certainly appears that he’s the perp now. The trio finds itself embroiled in the most challenging, if not deadly, case yet! Countless people - family, friends, foes - hated Mo-Mo. Anyone could have murdered him. Or was it a professional hit by the notorious, never-miss Death Angel? Is it possible!? The faceless, nameless assassin-for-hire is still plying his trade after all these years? As bodies drop, the P.I.s begin to believe answers won’t come from anyone they interview; they’ll be found in mysterious photos dating back to Mo-Mo’s disco days. They merely have to decipher what the people and backdrops in those photos are telling them—a tricky task indeed. Will they figure it out before more murders occur... perhaps theirs?

Holly Hernandez, voted “Miss Bright of ’79” and valedictorian at her previous school, is excited to start fresh at Flatbush Technical High School, one of the most competitive public schools in New York City. She’ll be one of thousands; anonymous. But her dreams of a normal school life disappear when her mother, a homicide detective, has to investigate the murder of Mr. Friedman, the social studies teacher. One of her classmates, Xander Herrera, quickly becomes the primary suspect. The tall, awkward boy is socially inept, but Holly doesn’t think he’s a murderer. She is intent on exonerating him—but he wants nothing to do with her. To Xander, Holly is the overly enthusiastic student who always sits in the front row and answers all the teachers’ questions—correctly. He hates perky people! Eventually cleared of the crime, Xander is determined to find the killer before Holly. As they race to solve the case, their separate investigations lead to a slew of suspects, including another teacher seen arguing with Friedman and a mysterious person named Steve who met with him several times before his death. Could it have been a disgruntled student? Ultimately, a trophy for a disco-dancing contest leads the intrepid young detectives to the Mission Venus nightclub and a murderer intent on killing again!

In Disco Demolition, Dave Hoekstra sets the record straight about the night that epitomized the rock and disco culture clash.

Disco began as a gay, black, and brown underground New York City party music scene, which alone was enough to ward off most rockers. The difference between rock and disco was as sociological as it was aesthetic. At its best, disco was galvanizing and affirmative. Its hypnotic power to uplift a broad spectrum of the populace made it the ubiquitous music of the late '70s. Disco was a primal and gaudy fanfare for the apocalypse, a rage for exhibitionism, free of moralizing. Disco was an exclamatory musical passageway into the future. 1978 was the apex of the record industry. Rock music, commercially and artistically, had never been more successful. At the same time, disco was responsible for roughly 40% of the records on Billboard's Hot 100, thanks to the largest-selling soundtrack of all time in Saturday Night Fever. The craze for this music by The Bee Gees revived The Hustle and dance studios across America. For all its apparent excesses and ritual zealotry, disco was a conservative realm, with obsolete rules like formal dress code and dance floor etiquette. When most '70s artists "went disco," it was the relatively few daring rockers who had the most impact, bringing their intensity and personality to a faceless phenomenon. Rock stars who "went disco" crossed a musical rubicon and forever smashed cultural conformity. The ongoing dance-rock phenomenon demonstrates the impact of this unique place and time. The disco crossover forever changed rock.

What is a guy to do when he has been a rock DJ his whole career and all of a sudden he is asked to stay on while his legendary rock station is turned to a country music format? He could stay on and play the game and be taken care of for life . Most would. Bob the Blade Robinson resigned, but he didn't resign by walking into anyone's office or leaving a letter of resignation in someone's mail slot. What he did got him banned from the company for life. It's a long way to the top and most never get there. This man had a lot of fun trying. Fun that almost got him killed.

Alice Echols reveals the ways in which disco transformed popular music, propelling it into new sonic territory and influencing rap, techno, and trance. She probes the complex relationship between disco and the era's major movements: gay liberation, feminism, and African American rights. You won't say "disco sucks" as disco thumps back to life in this pulsating look at the culture and politics that gave rise to the music.

The female vocalists who pioneered the disco genre in the '70s and early '80s were an extraordinarily talented group who dazzled the world with an exciting blend of elegance, soulful passion and gutsy fire. In this book of original interviews, 32 of these women tell their stories, explaining how they view their music, careers, connection to gay audiences, and their places in dance music history. Interviewed artists include: The Andrea True Connection; Claudja Barry; Pattie Brooks; Miquel Brown; Linda Clifford; Carol Douglas; Yvonne Elliman; Rochelle Fleming (First Choice); Gloria Gaynor; Debbie Jacobs-Rock; Madleen Kane; Evelyn "Champagne" King; Audrey Landers; Suzi Lane; Cynthia Manley (Boys Town Gang); Kelly Marie; Maxine Nightingale; Scherrie Payne; Wardell Piper; The Ritchie Family, 1975-1978: Gwendolyn Wesley, Cassandra Wooten and Cheryl Mason-Dorman; The Ritchie Family, 1978-1982: Theodosia "Dodie" Draher; Barbara Roy (Ecstasy Passion & Pain); Pamala Stanley; Evelyn Thomas; Jeanie Tracy; Anita Ward; Martha Wash; Carol Williams; Jessica Williams and Norma Jean Wright.

As the 1970s gave way to the 80s, New York's party scene entered a ferociously inventive period characterized by its creativity, intensity, and hybridity. Life and Death on the New York Dance Floor chronicles this tumultuous time, charting the sonic and social eruptions that took place in the city’s subterranean party venues as well as the way they cultivated breakthrough movements in art, performance, video, and film. Interviewing DJs, party hosts, producers, musicians, artists, and dancers, Tim Lawrence illustrates how the relatively discrete post-disco, post-punk, and hip hop scenes became marked by their level of plurality, interaction, and convergence. He also explains how the shifting urban landscape of New York supported the cultural renaissance before gentrification, Reaganomics, corporate intrusion, and the spread of AIDS brought this gritty and protean time and place in American culture to a troubled denouement.

The untimely deaths of Amy Winehouse (2011) and Whitney Houston (2012), and the ’resurrection’ of Tupac Shakur for a performance at the Coachella music festival in April 2012, have focused the media spotlight on the relationship between popular music, fame and death. If the phrase ’sex, drugs and rock’n’roll’ ever qualified a lifestyle, it has left many casualties in its wake, and with the ranks of dead musicians growing over time, so the types of death involved and the reactions to them have diversified. Conversely, as many artists who fronted the rock’n’roll revolution of the 1950s and 1960s continue to age, the idea of dying young and leaving a beautiful corpse (which gave rise, for instance, to the myth of the ’27 Club’) no longer carries the same resonance that it once might have done. This edited collection explores the reception of dead rock stars, ’rock’ being taken in the widest sense as the artists discussed belong to the genres of rock’n’roll (Elvis Presley), disco (Donna Summer), pop and pop-rock (Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Amy Winehouse), punk and post-punk (GG Allin, Ian Curtis), rap (Tupac Shakur), folk (the Dutchman André Hazes) and ’world’ music (Fela Kuti). When music artists die, their fellow musicians, producers, fans and the media react differently, and this book brings together their intertwining modalities of reception. The commercial impact of death on record sales, copyrights, and print media is considered, and the different justifications by living artists for being involved with the dead, through covers, sampling and tributes. The cultural representation of dead singers is investigated through obituaries, biographies and biopics, observing that posthumous fame provides coping mechanisms for fans, and consumers of popular culture more generally, to deal with the knowledge of their own mortality. Examining the contrasting ways in which male and female dead singers are portrayed in the media, the book