House of the Rising Sun: A song that changed everything

Back in 1964 I was fifteen. It was not long after the end of the Lady Chatterley ban and the Beatles first LP, when sexual intercourse began according to Philip Larkin. Before Kenneth Tynan uttered the first four letter word on TV. Pop songs were still bright, chirpy and devoid of any seriousness. As John Lennon said: ‘we were just writing songs a la the Everley Brothers and Buddy Holly with no more thought than that – to create a sound. The words were almost irrelevant.’ Then this came on Top of the Pops:
It was as if someone had put jump leads on your feet and connected them to a battery, giving you an electric shock that shot up your legs, up your spinal chord and into your brain. Serious funky music but more important, dark, intense lyrics. Was Eric Burdon singing about a whorehouse? On the BBC? I read an article shortly after that explained that the Animals had ripped the song off Bob Dylan and that Bob, on hearing their version while driving his car, had to stop and listen to it in shock, giving him the idea to go electrical. Well for me it was the opposite way round. I saw Dylan’s first album going in a junk shop for something daft like ten bob (it obviously hadn’t been to someone’s taste) and then heard the original acoustic version. I’ve been a Dylan fan ever since.



First review of Pool of Life

Just received the first review (ARC – advanced review copy ie pre-publication – the idea is to get a juicy quote that you can put on the cover) of Pool of Life from a rated reviewer. It’s a good one and that is a huge relief!

Review of Pool of Life

Ex-cop Jack Gordon is struggling to keep his PI business in Liverpool afloat, with his staff playing hooky and a surveillance suspect deciding to head-butt him when his stake-out is blown. With bills mounting along with his troubles, he suddenly has two cases dumped into his lap. A member of the local aristocracy hires him to find out why a local group of anarchists are targeting her family, and the NCA wants him to infiltrate a shadowy terrorist organization that is threatening to poison Liverpool’s water supply. As Jack’s injuries heal, he finds himself caught between his two agents, Roy, a fellow ex-cop with liver disease and a drinking problem, and Mel, a woman with trust issues, who can’t stand each other. With all his problems, his trouble is just getting started. The two seemingly unrelated cases seem to be related after all, and the subjects aren’t happy at all about his prying.
Pool of Life by Pete Trewin is as tightly wound as an antique grandfather clock caked with rust. It moves in a staccato beat through the seamy underside and scaly upper crust of Liverpool, with the stakes rising higher with each explosive encounter. Trewin does a masterful job of teasing the reader with clues—useful and otherwise—as Jack finds that not only are his two new cases related, but a decades-old suspicious disappearance of a young woman is rearing its ugly head as well. The pressing question, though, is whether or not Jack can survive long enough to solve the puzzles. Reading this book is like eating fish and chips; while the big chunks of fish are the main course, you’ll find that occasional snippet of chip that, with a dollop of tomato sauce, makes the meal even better.
This is a book that you can’t put down. Just when you think you might want to take a break from reading, Trewin drops another morsel on your plate, and you just have to keep eating.
A definite five-star read.