Rock Hall, Maryland, is a small, tranquil community nestled in Kent County on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay. Settled by fishermen and recently released indentured servants lured by subsistence fishing and farming, the town soon earned a reputation for enormous hauls of rockfish; thus, Rock Haul (later Rock Hall) was named. Eventually shipbuilding and other water-oriented enterprises developed, and the town evolved. More than 300 years later, farmers and watermen still provide the basis of the communitys economy, and the residents are evermore dedicated to historic preservation. In Images of America: Rock Hall, vintage photographs depict Rock Hall harbor, Tolchester Beach, Eastern Neck Island, and the Chesapeake Bay.

Frustrated over his failure to sell antiques in Betterton, a small town on the Chesapeake Bay, Mark Hopkins, a handsome, rich and bright 27-year old former SEAL, decides to become a private art dealer and buys a farm outside Rock Hall, near the Eastern Neck Island Wildlife Refuge. Two weeks later he discovers an important impressionist painting in an antiques store in Baltimore, which he buys for $10,000 and sells for $329,000. His joy, however is short-lived when his father dies unexpectedly, forcing him to take over operation of his familys steel mill in Baltimore. After the funeral, his death is ruled by suspicious means. A subsequent murder resolves everything, with at least two gorgeous women always competing for his love. The characters are strong, with a storyline that reads like a movie script.

The Rock History Reader is an eclectic compilation of readings that tells the history of rock as it has been received and explained as a social and musical practice throughout its six decade history. The readings range from the vivid autobiographical accounts of such rock icons as Ronnie Spector and David Lee Roth to the writings of noted rock critics like Lester Bangs and Chuck Klosterman. It also includes a variety of selections from media critics, musicologists, fanzine writers, legal experts, sociologists and prominent political figures. Many entries also deal specifically with distinctive styles such as Motown, punk, disco, grunge, rap and indie rock. Each entry includes headnotes, which place it in its historical context. This second edition includes new readings on the early years of rhythm & blues and rock ‘n’ roll, as well as entries on payola, mods, the rise of FM rock, progressive rock and the PMRC congressional hearings. In addition, there is a wealth of new material on the 2000s that explores such relatively recent developments as emo, mash ups, the explosion of internet culture and new media, and iconic figures like Radiohead and Lady Gaga. With numerous readings that delve into the often explosive issues surrounding censorship, copyright, race relations, feminism, youth subcultures, and the meaning of musical value, The Rock History Reader continues to appeal to scholars and students from a variety of disciplines.

This book draws from a rich history of scholarship about the relations between music and cities, and the global flows between music and urban experience. The contributions in this collection comment on the global city as a nexus of moving people, changing places, and shifting social relations, asking what popular music can tell us about cities, and vice versa. Since the publication of the first Sounds and the City volume, various movements, changes and shifts have amplified debates about globalization. From the waves of people migrating to Europe from the Syrian civil war and other conflict zones, to the 2016 “Brexit” vote to leave the European Union and American presidential election of Donald Trump. These, and other events, appear to have exposed an anti-globalist retreat toward isolationism and a backlash against multiculturalism that has been termed “post-globalization.” Amidst this, what of popular music? Does music offer renewed spaces and avenues for public protest, for collective action and resistance? What can the diverse​​ histories, hybridities, and legacies of popular music tell us about the ever-changing relations of people and cities?

Edgy, witty, and opinionated critical analysis of “classic rock” in the 21st century, discussing everything from modern remixes of classic albums (why?) to concert ticket prices, Record Store Day, the vinyl revival, milking deceased artists, reunions, tribute acts, and more. When Dave Thompson’s I Hate New Music: The Classic Rock Manifesto in 2008, the book did not so much divide the world of rock reading as leave it in an uproar. It started arguments, it ended debates, and for the author of over 150 music books, it not only received the strongest reader response of any book he’d written, it also still crops up in author interviews today. Almost fifteen years later, however, much has changed, and the classics have lost some of their bite as well. In I Hate Old Music, Too, Thompson recasts the story of “classic rock” in the 21st century. Among the targets of his ire are lavish box sets that mostly just duplicate the albums you already own; comebacks and reunions featuring half or even fewer of the band members; the dark side of the “vinyl revival;” the continued cult of The Beatles; and much more.