One of the bingo squares is "bards," which includes musicians, poets, storytellers, etc. I saw this book recced for that square because it's about a rock-and-roll singer in 1980s Minneapolis; I was intrigued because I grew up outside the Twin Cities and had never heard of it, and wasn't running across anything else that would fit for the square, so sought it out.
Does it deliver on the local flavor? Yes, it does! This setting is a little before my time, but if names like Byerly's, Dayton's, Nicollet Mall, First Avenue, City Pages, the Metrodome ("not bad...for a glow-in-the-dark fungus"), and, of course, Prince mean anything to you, you'll appreciate it.
Okay, so what about everything else?
In "Neverwhere," Richard Mayhew shows compassion to a homeless person, and that's the kiss of death--he gets dragged into an urban fantasy with a bunch of quipsters, and can't go back to his normal life no matter how hard he tries. Here, Eddi McCandry doesn't even have an inciting incident to blame; she gets forcibly dragged into a faerie war because she has...the power of rock and roll?...and spends the rest of the book with a shapeshifting dog "phouka" keeping watch, being an insufferable quipster, calling her pet names every other sentence, and generally being annoying until it turns into Stockholm syndrome.
The contrived premise is that the Seelie Court (monarchist fae) are at war with the Unseelie (commoners?) but both sides are by default immortal; in order for their wars to have real stakes and for people to die, they have to have a mortal human in their midst. Eddi points out, very reasonably and frequently, that she didn't ask for this and there are lots of humans they could pick on, but oh well, she's stuck with it.
One of the things the book does well is that, when Eddi's bandmates are reasonably skeptical of the supernatural goings-on, the phouka reluctantly decides "okay, you're part of this too" and demonstrates his shapeshifting abilities. Music is a group activity; it's not just for the chosen one.
Eddi's friend Carla, the percussionist, is very Minnesotan; she says things like "you betcha" and "come with." Also, she recognizes the word "phouka" because it was used in an old movie--this is the same place where Harvey from Farscape got his name! (And in both cases, it's like, I can sort of see how a 1950 movie might still have barely been a cultural allusion for the target audience, but it's very much not for me.)
Eddi's friend Carla, the percussionist, is very Minnesotan; she says things like "you betcha" and "come with." Also, she recognizes the word "phouka" because it was used in an old movie--this is the same place where Harvey from Farscape got his name! (And in both cases, it's like, I can sort of see how a 1950 movie might still have barely been a cultural allusion for the target audience, but it's very much not for me.)
There's a running theme of "women have to be assertive to make it in the rock world; there's no shortage of self-centered male musicians who will try to flirt with you, and if you're strong enough to stand up to them, a faerie queen is nothing." And some of the foreshadowing will be familiar if you're genre-savvy, although I formed the wrong impression early on about "hmm, is this character actually the bad guys also trying to get to Eddi."
The fae have questions like: "Do your people ever write songs about anything besides love and death?" This could have gone in a more heavy-handed direction, like, "only the humans have good art because they appreciate the Transience of Life, us immortals don't really get it," which would have been annoying, so I'm glad they didn't. On the other hand, as someone who gets easily sick of those genres, I would have liked to hear more, weirder, faerie music.
The Seelie are set in their ways because they're 1. immortal and 2. monarchists, but the Unseelie are worse because...they're evil???
"It's not just for you, it's for the entire seven-county metro area. Couldn't we just let them have St. Paul?"
...
"This city is alive with the best magic of mortal folk. The very light off the skyscrapers and the lakes vibrates with it. If the Unseelie Court takes up residence here, this will be a place where people fear their neighbors, where life drains the living until art and wit are luxuries, where any pleasant thing must be imported and soon loses its savor."
I think Bull would agree that for her, Minneapolis is a magical place because she loves it; for someone else, any city could be that place, but they also have the potential to be lifeless, unmagical places.
At the end of the 2001 edition, there's an appendix--a note saying that the author and her husband have since adapted it to a screenplay, including a few scenes that aren't in the novel. This allows for POV characters, and corresponding settings, besides Eddi: her loser ex-boyfriend gets more of a character arc, and long-lost nightclubs in the caves above the Mississippi River make an appearance. I think this could be a change for the better (there were a lot of descriptions of clothing that weren't super engaging to me), but also, you do know books are allowed to have more than one POV character, right?
When Eddi and her friends are at a Midsummer gathering with the faeries, one of the songs they play is "Safety Dance." I can't tell if that was as silly/memetic in 1987 as it lands today. Either way, I think it's a useful warning that "giving shoutouts to the musicians you like" can't be your only reason for a creative project. And, like musical tastes, some of the "my primrose"/"my sweet"/"but thou must" flirting hasn't aged well.
Bingo: using it for Bards; would also count for Dreams, Prologues (introducing the magical elements, which is kind of superfluous because Eddi meets them in chapter two), Reference Materials (for the appendix). Borderline for romance-as-a-genre; I think the book might be better without the romantic plotlines, but it would also be a lot shorter.