George R.R. Martin's Armageddon Rag (1983) has been sitting on my to-read pile for years, literally years—not because I didn't want to read it, rather because of expectation. With positive reviews and words like 'hidden gem' being bandied about, I wanted to save Martin's unknown novel for the 'right' moment. The right moment came last week. After such weight of expectation, better be good, right?
Armageddon Rag channels 60s and 70s arena rock in fantastika fashion. Think Black Sabbath with a spark of the occult. It's told through the eyes of Sandy Blair, a former journalist at a small-time version of Rolling Stone called the Hedgehog. It's now the 80s and Blair is writing novels rather than articles. He Blair gets a call in the opening pages from his former editor at Hedgehog with a gig offer. A famous music promoter from one of the 60s biggest bands, The Nazgul, has been murdered in a remote Maine cabin and the editor wants Blair back on the payroll to cover it. Mystery, as they say, ensues (with a big splash of rock-n-roll).