
VINYL VOWS: HUNGRY LIKE THE KARMACHAMELEON
(A New Romantic-Fueled Love Story of Eyeliner Wars, Mixtape Sparks, and Synth-Soaked Desire)
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Narrated by:
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Virtual Voice
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By:
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NICK POLLACK

This title uses virtual voice narration
About this listen
In the eyeliner-smudged chaos of 1982 London, where synth-pop rules the airwaves, New Romantics clash with rude boys, and every mixtape feels like a manifesto, two rivals are about to find harmony in the last place they expect.
JJ Ryder is a Smash Hits journalist with a mullet teased to the gods and a devotion to Duran Duran so intense, he dreams of fronting his own band. Marisa Schmidt is a graphic designer with Boy George in her bloodstream, Culture Club stickers on her smock, and a permanent eye-roll reserved just for JJ’s frilly blouses and “yacht-pop fantasy.”
When their editor forces them to co-write a year-end feature on the UK’s wildest bands, Spandau Ballet, Human League, Depeche Mode, Soft Cell, Madness, Wham!, and more, they’re thrust into a whirlwind road trip across Britain’s music scene. From Blitz Club’s androgynous decadence to a Haçienda soaked in glitter and cider, their rivalry simmers through stage dives, sketchbooks, backstage interviews, and late-night diner mixtapes.
But as punk gives way to synth, as ska horns blur into slow-dance ballads, and as their jabs turn into glances that linger too long, JJ and Marisa realize the real headline isn’t who ruled 1982. It’s what happens when two enemies, armed with pens, Polaroids, and pop obsessions, fall for the music, and maybe each other.
Vinyl Vows: Hungry Like The Karmachameleon is a riotous, romantic deep-dive into the scene that made eyeliner cool, keyboards sexy, and love stories loud. With a cameo by a teenager 'never gonna give you up', enough fan culture to make any fanzine queen weep, and a final kiss under Blitz’s strobes, it’s a love letter to the bands that saved us and the hearts we handed over with every cassette.
For fans of Empire Records, Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist, and anyone who ever scrawled lyrics in the margins of a school notebook, this one’s for you. Press play. Let it spin. And don’t skip the B-sides.