Angels of Music

I’ll admit, I approached *Angels of Music* skeptical of yet another Phantom variation, but Newman’s take is *nothing* like the Andrew Lloyd Webber version. This is *Le Carré* meets *The Phantom of the Opera*, where Erik’s lair isn’t just a hideout but the nerve center of a Cold War-adjacent intelligence network. Julie Maisey’s narration is the audiobook’s secret weapon—her Erik is hypnotically sinister, his voice a mix of cultured arrogance and simmering rage. When she switches to the novel’s female spies (like the ruthless Christine Daaé stand-in), her tone sharpens into something almost metallic, selling the idea that these women are weapons as much as operatic divas. The story’s biggest strength is its structure: Newman jumps between timelines (fin-de-siècle Paris, 1960s espionage) with surgical precision, and the audiobook’s editing ensures these shifts never feel jarring. That said, the middle act sags slightly under the weight of its own lore—there’s a 40-minute stretch where the spy jargon threatens to drown out the gothic atmosphere. And while Maisey’s French pronunciation is impeccable, her male voices occasionally blur together in crowded scenes. Still, the payoff is worth it: the finale’s twist recontextualizes Erik’s entire mythos, and the audiobook’s closing lines (delivered by Maisey with chilling calm) linger like a knife twist. For fans of *The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen*’s literary mashups or *Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy*’s paranoia, this is a must-listen—just be prepared for a Phantom who’s more Machiavelli than tragic hero.