Fall through

1994: scrappy punk band Diamond Mine tours the middle of the country, exposing their beating hearts wherever there's a venue, counting on the kindness of fans for a place to sleep and on one another for everything else. Powell thus conjures a magical time when artistic revelation was deeply personal and shared passion wasn't mediated by screens, offering deep melancholy for readers over a certain age and, perhaps, a view into a valuable, lost D.I.Y. world for readers below that age. Diana, struggling with mental health, is their creative linchpin, but she's unable to see past her own vision, and we come to realize that, for all their commitment, Diamond Mine might be headed for their end. Narrator Jody is hyper-articulate in emotionally resonant ways that sometimes strain the otherwise well-crafted authenticity of this world. But, since his darkly sublime Swallow Me Whole (2008), Powell's strength has always been communicating the feeling of an experience. Here, in inky blacks and incendiary bursts of orange and yellow music, he fills readers with the spirit and energy of punk.

This paean to 1990s DIY punk from National Book Award winner Powell (the March series) puts a paranormal twist on the intimacies and aggravations of life in a band. Arkansas-based quartet Diamond Mine summon thunderous power from their vocalist Diana's volatile, shamanistic performances. The shows are electrifying--their sound drawn as lightning bolts striking the stage--but there's something more at play. Each time the band launch into their signature song, "Fall Through," it's as though a rift opens in the spacetime continuum, and bassist Jody narrates a quasi-mystical tour diary of the group's seemingly endless six-week van tour. While Diane fights to hold the band together, guitarist Napoleon feels pulled by responsibilities to a brother with special needs back home, drummer Steff powers through suppressed identity issues, and Jody's attention strays to a budding relationship. A musician himself, Powell captures the warmth and squalor of punk house lodgings and the frenetic buzz at each stop along the road, all in vibrant, splashy layouts. "The story of a thousand shows is one of quietly falling out of time... Here we go again." With infectious nostalgia for humid basement shows and 3:00 am revelations, Powell revels in the too-brief moments when music makes life vivid. Agent: Charlie Olson, InkWell Management. (Feb.)