“People need the past. To remember who they are. Or rather, to remember who they used to be. For a moment, I feel the urge to cry. To sob. So I start cracking jokes instead. Awful jokes. Better to nurse my melancholy alone. Save it for when I’m home.”

Timur is a 46-year-old, borderline misanthropic rock star. While battling alcohol, life, depression, feelings of pointlessness, midlife and creative crises, he is also trying to be a father to his four-year-old daughter and a son to his mother. But the hardest thing for him is to endure himself.

This is a lonely rock star who feels constantly forced to be someone else, who no longer knows who he is, and cannot keep up with the age he lives in.

Meanwhile, he also tries to navigate a romantic relationship he struggles to convince himself of. As much as he can, naturally. Or rather, as much as he can’t.

Teoman proves his prowess as a novelist as much as a songwriter. Here is a character who is both deeply familiar and alien to us, a life that is at once deeply tragic, intensely entertaining, and downright hilarious…