Let me just say up front that I loved all four main characters in Utopia Avenue and didn’t want anything bad to happen to them ever. It’s a good thing I wasn’t in charge, then, as that would have made for a dull novel. David Mitchell not only had the skill to create people who would tug so effectively at my heart-strings, but also the temerity to put them through bad things and the forbearance to let them make bad choices.
Mitchell first introduces Dean Moss, bassist, late of Battleship Potemkin though the band threw him out for “revisionism.” It’s mid-1960s London, and Dean is chasing his musical dreams. Unfortunately, he has a bad day. He’s pickpocketed between the bank and paying his rent. His landlady throws him out on the spot (“Take your ‘gear’ with you … Anything still in your room at two o’clock will be in the Salvation Army store at three.” (p. 7)) and keeps his deposit. Dean tries to get his employer to advance him some pay, seeing as how he isn’t working between that day and payday anyway. The employer fires him on the spot and keep five days’ wages just because he can. Within a dozen pages, Mitchell has Dean well and truly down and out. He even loses what is probably his last sixpence in a gutter.
But his luck has already turned, though he does not yet realize it. The stranger whose question startled Dean enough to turn a coin toss into a coin loss is Levon Frankland, a talent manager currently looking for a new band, following “artistic differences” with an outfit called Great Apes. Levon says he wants Dean to see a band and give him his opinion about their potential. He’ll give Dean a place to crash for the weekend.
The band is Archie Kinnock’s Blues Cadillac. “Within moments, Dean can see that not one but two of the Blues Cadillac’s wheels are coming loose. Archie Kinnock is drunk, stoned or both. … [The bassist, meanwhile, is lagging behind the beat. His backing vocals … are off-key, not in a good way. He barks at the drummer, ‘Too bleedin’ slow!’ in mid-song. The drummer scowls.” (p. 15) But those are not the two Levon has brought Dean to see. “The second [lead guitar] solo impresses Dean even more than the first. People crane their necks to watch the guitarist’s fingers fly, pick, clamp, pull, slide and hammer up and down the fretboard. How’s he even doing that?” (pp. 15–16)
During the break, Levon asks Dean’s opinion.