the soundtrack of big yellow lies

Every good mystery has a rhythm. For me, Big Yellow Lies isn’t just a novel—it’s a soundtrack, a mixtape built from the music that shaped Jesse Keaton’s life and the world around him.

When I started writing, I knew the story had to carry the pulse of the ’70s through 2006—the golden age of FM radio, hair bands, and the new wave invasion. The songs in this book are more than background noise; they’re cultural markers. They tell you who Jesse and his friends were, and what kind of world they moved through.

Back then, music wasn’t disposable. We collected it—vinyl stacked on shelves, cassettes rattling in the glove box, CDs lined up like trophies, even the occasional 8-track still hanging on. We memorized liner notes. We knew who produced what album, which band members quit mid-tour, and which songs got banned from the airwaves. Music was currency.

You’ll see that in Big Yellow Lies. The book is littered with songs from artists who defined the era:

• The arena-filling confidence of REO Speedwagon and Def Leppard.

• The gritty blues-rock swagger of Bob Seger.

• The slick production and pop perfection of Phil Collins and Genesis.

• The bite and brilliance of the new wave invasion—from Tears for Fears to The Cars.

• The anthems of hair bands blasted from garage speakers while kids with feathered hair and denim jackets leaned against their cars.

For Jesse and his friends, these weren’t just songs. They were the soundtrack to warehouse parties, long drives along the Illinois River, and the kind of nights you never forget—even if you try.

When you read the book, the playlist will be right there waiting for you. It’s not just music to fill the silence—it’s music that tells the truth about a time, a place, and a generation that lived with their radios always on.

So crank it up. Big Yellow Lies was written to be read with the volume high.