Daisy Jones & the Six
A NovelBook - 2019
From the critics
Other: Drug Use
Coarse Language: Curse words
SummaryAdd a Summary
Picture this: It’s the mid ‘70s in Los Angeles, and the full force of flower power is starting to go a bit weedy. Rock has gone from festivals to stadiums, drugs have shifted from psychedelics to heroin and uppers, and the sexual revolution has veered past free love and into key parties. No one is quite sure yet what to make of any of it.
Into this scene stumbles a beautiful young singer, raised in an apathetic family with an artist father and a former model for a mother. No one much cares what Daisy Jones gets into, so she tries it all. Just as she begins to find her stride, a mid-western blues band hits the scene, and their label decides to pair them for marketability. It’s the birth of legendary rock band Daisy Jones and the Six.
In an amazing turn of events for your summer beach reading, this band has more drama than Fleetwood Mac (indeed, some have speculated they’re the author’s inspiration). Daisy and Six frontman Billy Dunne have instant chemistry, but Billy has a slew of addictions he’s trying to kick and a family; Daisy represents everything that could ruin his life. Keyboardist Karen is a rock goddess along the lines of the Pixies’ Kim Deal, but her secret relationship with founding guitarist Graham Dunne threatens the stability of The Six. Add in a surprise marriage to fallen Italian royalty between tours, and a production team that doubles as a therapy group for the band, and you’ve got everything you need for a dishy read so intense it’ll give you flashbacks.
Written in a fast-paced interview style, Reid’s prose and dialogue are sharp, real, immersive, and often quite funny. Highly recommended to anyone looking for a distraction, Daisy Jones and the Six offers the same gritty, ‘70s feel as the film Almost Famous. But, unlike the film, you can take this book anywhere, and you won’t want to leave it behind until you’re done. Don’t miss it.
QuotesAdd a Quote
I had absolutely no interest in being somebody else's muse.
I am not a muse.
I am the somebody.
End of fucking story.
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