If you had a time Machine, where and when would you go?

It’s a parlor game that’s been played for ages. Ancient Rome. 1920’s Paris. Italy during the Renaissance (but with penicillin). A lot of the time, one’s answer revolves around music.  People want to be there for the birth of something.

Maybe you would choose New York in 1977, to sweat to the Ramones and Blondie at CBGB’s, then head uptown for revel in birth of disco at Studio 54. Or early 90s Seattle, for the birth of grunge, sweating in the pit for Nirvana and Pearl Jam and Mudhoney and Soundgarden.

Maybe the Bronx in 1973, for DJ Kool Herc’s block parties where Hip Hop was born.

Or London in 1966, with the Beatles and the Stones, a visit to the Bag o’Nails club to see Jimi Hendrix rock Eric Clapton’s world.

People are playing the game a lot today. Because we yearn for a time before cell phone cameras and social media. A time where you got into the club with a physical ticket, and just let the music flood over you in the moment.

And this summer, they are setting their mythical Time Machine for 1994 Manchester. The Madchester scene was still alive, but making way for a brash band from Burnage in Manchester with a front man who took the stage at the Hacienda and dared to say it was about time a “proper band” played the venue.

Oasis was raw and working class. Two brothers from a council house (public housing as we call it in America). “Is it worth the aggravation,” Noel wrote and Liam sang “to find yourself a job when there’s nothing worth working for.” 

That was something being felt by millions of young men.

Unlike the Beatles, whose crowd makeup at concerts skewed female, Oasis had a largely male following. They faced the uncertainty. Many were on the dole, receiving public assistance. They didn’t want to grow up. They wanted to rage. This was not like punk or ska, both relatively small culture sets. This seemed to be everyone. Terrace lads and bricklayers and postmen, all trying to scrape out a life after 15 years of Margaret Thatcher. And going to an Oasis show was like a going to football match where everyone was supporting the same club.

The crowds got bigger. And the music did to match. No one posting on social media. No one holding a cellphone in the air. The only thing the crowd had in their hands was a pint and a momentary touch of a beach ball.

Across the pond, the American males were reeling from the loss of Kurt Cobain and the end of grunge. Lives were about to be upended by the internet, and a presidential scandal.

The crowds were smaller in the US–arenas instead of stadiums. The band had ruined their entree into the states after a drug-addled performance in Los Angeles which broke up the band for a week when older brother Noel escaped to San Francisco only to return a week later. 

But the music and the words resonated.

It was grand.

Alas, there is no time machine. 1994 is long gone. There is no way to go back.

But you don’t have to go back. Because 2025 Manchester and London and New York and Los Angeles and Dublin will now take their place in the time machine conversation.

The shows for the 2025 reunion tour are not trying to take you back in time. This IS the time. It is something new. And it’s something possibly more important than the birth of Brit Pop.

“We need to find another word, because this ain’t just ‘nostalgia,’” co-opener Richard Ashcroft recently told Virgin Radio. “That city and that stage, Like Croke Park the other night. It was like the center of the Universe. It was the most now, happening real place you could be on the planet.”

Damn the cell phones and social media. Damn the AI and impending doom. For one night, 80,000 people gathered together to sing songs and embrace each other.

This isn’t nostalgia. Because this never happened before. Eighty thousand people never turned away from the stage, locked arms to do the Poznan together. Thousands of people never gathered outside the parks and stadiums to just listen to the songs. They are there for the music, but more to just be around each other. Because this is a communal event, and the collective effervescence created from each individual is something that cannot be replicated through a pair of earbuds.

This never happened before. Because the young men of the 90s who survived DID all get jobs, even though there seemingly was nothing worth working for.

They survived. They saw their friends die from drugs or drink. Or go to jail. And now they face the uncertainty of life in their 40s and 50s and 60s of not having a retirement plan, and their kids not earning what they did. But they are here, now, facing that uncertainty in an embrace with both perfect strangers and imperfect friends.

This never happened before. Two brothers who each represent the two sides of man–Noel, the loner poet with the acerbic wit in the vein of Oscar Wilde and Liam, the cocky, hooligan town crier–putting their past behind them in front of 70,000 people. The cynic will say it’s all for the money. But their hug at the end of the show plants a seed in everyone in the crowd: Yes, we might live forever, but life is also short. Pick up the phone and reach to that friend who you lost touch with over this or that.

This is not the birth of something new. It has never happened before. It’s for the teenagers in crowd bouncing up and down to “Some Might Say.” The twenty somethings arm in arm singing “Don’t Look Back in Anger” to each other. And those middle-aged men thirty years later with families of their own, who can look back and realize they did finally find something worth living for. All together, arm in arm in the face of a new age.

Let’s just pray that new age has guitars.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Billy Jensen (@billyjensen)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Billy Jensen (@billyjensen)

 

View this post on Instagram

 

A post shared by Billy Jensen (@billyjensen)

My statement concerning the Jenn Tisdale podcast:

My statement on recent events:

 

Last October, I attended an Exactly Right Halloween event with my wife and others at a brewery. It was the first event since the pandemic started, and I was excited to see people I hadn’t seen offline in two years. Admittedly, I was being very social and hugging my colleagues and friends. All of these hugs were out in the open, in front of everyone at the event.

 

Two months later, I was told that someone had made a complaint that my interaction with them at the event was inappropriate. I was surprised and horrified. I did not touch anyone with untoward intentions, nor was there a moment when anyone expressed any indication of discomfort — but I was hugging and putting my arm around my colleagues that evening and I did get into people’s personal space and assumed a level of comfort without asking. I now understand that was unwelcome, and I am deeply sorry I made anyone feel uncomfortable that night. I didn’t approach anyone with any ill intention, and I truly regret that my eagerness for shared camaraderie came across in such a way.

 

I was interviewed about the event, and three weeks later I received a short phone call and was told that my actions at the brewery event “were inappropriate.” There was absolutely no mention of “harassment,” and this was the only explanation I received. Subsequently, the Murder Squad podcast was then put on a hiatus.

 

I recently learned — through third parties and no official channels (corporate, legal or otherwise) — that the complainant may have had some sort of dispute against Exactly Right. However, I was not a party to that dispute, I did not take part in it as a witness or otherwise, I do not know what the issues were, and I do not know the outcome. Nor do I know the exact reasons why Murder Squad was ultimately discontinued.

 

This has been an incredibly difficult year with a lot of introspection and therapy, which I plan to continue far into the future. I understand some people in the community may have their minds already made up about me — believe me, I have heard you — but I will continue working to become more conscious of other people’s personal space and comfort levels.

 

Again, I am deeply sorry I made anyone feel uncomfortable.

 

-Billy

 

**Trigger warning—#suicideawareness****

 

Still here? Ok. And if you left, that’s ok too.

 

 

I’m starting a new project that is a slight departure—but just as important—as true crime.

 

In the spring of last year, for the first time ever—or at least in a very long time—I had serious suicide ideation. I was in a really dark place. When I was 22, I was diagnosed with depression and obsessive compulsive disorder. Medication has helped since. But it just got really bad last year. Not being able to turn off thoughts. Best I can describe it is darkness. And I had some really, really dark nights. And to be honest, I’m amazed and happy I’m alive.

 

Somehow I pulled myself out of the darkness. For now. It’s a constant struggle. But one of the things that got me through it was this.

 

For 20 years, I’ve chased killers. 15,000 people die by murder in America each year.  50,000 people die by suicide. 800,000 people worldwide. Suicide claims more lives than war, murder, and natural disasters combined.

 

One person dies from suicide every 40 seconds. Someone just died by suicide as You’ve been watching this.

 

When I pulled out of that darkness back in the spring, I started doing a lot of research. There are not many books on suicide. I went to a Big bookstore chain and asked the salesperson for books on suicide. After a concerned look at me and a 5 minute search on the computer, I was handed a list of 4 books. There were more books in that store about quidditch—a fictional sport played by wizards—than something that kills 800,000 people a year.

 

So I started talking to a lot of suicidologists.

 

And they all said the same thing—talking about suicide should be done and we should be talking about how people who have had thoughts of suicide were able to survive.

 

We make movies about people who die by suicide. Particularly celebrities. But what about people who got to the very edge but were then able somehow to pull themselves back.

 

Just as much as a completed suicide can trigger other suicide attempts, a story of survival and resilience can create hope and second chances. And maybe even give other tools on how to survive and fight back.

 

You know, One of the best things I ever learned in therapy is “you are not your thoughts.”

 

If you have suicidal ideation—it’s not you. It’s an outsider. An invader. In true crime terms. It’s a  killer entering your head. Then why not tackle the subject like that? A killer who kills 800,000 people a year. If there was someone who survived that killer, you’d want to hear that story, right? Those stories are out there.

 

The last journey of the hero is to bring the boon, the reward, back home and share it with the people.

 

Be it a trophy or knowledge. And people have this knowledge. The knowledge to fight back these thoughts.

 

But virtually no one talks about how they pulled out, because of the stigma attached. There’s also issues of future employment, health insurance.

 

But we need to stop that. If someone fought off an attacker on the street, they would tell you how they did it. The same should be true for fighting off an attacker in your head.

 

This is by no means saying people who died by suicide were lesser. The killers in their heads were incredibly strong and overpowered them. And there is not a one-size-fits-all cure—everyone is different, everyone is going through different things, everyone has different brain chemistry. Everyone is different.

 

But sharing stories will help. The new world health organization guide “suggests that media counteract reports of suicide with stories of successful recovery from mental health challenges or suicidal thoughts.”

 

So today, the first real day of the new year, I’m launching a project to collect these stories — stories from people from all walks of life, from celebrities to your next door neighbor— who have had thoughts of suicide and fought them back.

 

The WHO has a goal— Reduce the suicide rate by 1/3 by 2030. Wouldn’t that be amazing to reach? Saving 250,000 lives a year?

 

Suicide rates are actually down globally—decreasing by 36% in the last 20 years.

 

But in the United States, the suicide rate has risen 17 percent.

 

Why? In the US, it’s much more complicated, and experts point to our relationship with firearms. Going on an anti gun rant here is not going to help anyone because the message will get lost, but The WHO does identify access to means and it will be part of the conversation. There are also the situations of self medication with drugs and alcohol, something that is a constant battle for myself as well. And it’s also worth noting, that more than twice as many males die due to suicide as females. And more than 65,000 US veterans have died by suicide in the last 10 years. That’s more than the number of soldiers who were killed during the Vietnam war. Depending on what state you live in, Suicide is either the second or third leading cause of death for people 15-24.

 

I know I’m throwing a lot out here. But now, I want to hear your story. How were you able to fight back against the killer in your head.

 

And share this message with people. Send it far and wide. It’s time to drag suicide out of the darkness and into the light.

 

If you don’t have a story, there is still a way to contribute. Coupled with this will be something I’m calling Project Reach Out. All I’m asking is every week or two, reach out to someone. Ask them to meet in person. Take a walk, go for coffee. Anything. People in despair often don’t reach out. But sometimes all it takes is someone reaching out to them to give them a tool to survive.

 

I talked about it on episode 100 of Murder Squad in June and it resonated. This is just the first public step in this project. We want to learn as much as we can from each other. If you have any suggestions, please don’t hesitate to send them in to bill@billyjensen.com. A book and possibly a podcast will follow. But this is the first step.

 

Suicide ideation is an ongoing struggle. Hell, it was a struggle just to write all this out. Thoughts get in your head. I had to go to a burger place and be around people just to finish it. But I really think we can all move the needle on suicide.

 

And if you are having thoughts of suicide, please call the hotline at

800-273-8255

 

And I know a lot of people don’t like to talk on the phone—so you can text a crisis line 24/7–

Text HOME to 741741 for a confidential response from a crisis counselor.

 

Thank you for listening, thank you for sharing, and thank you for reaching out.

A few weeks after Chase Darkness with Me came out, I received an email that blew me away. I just wrote a story about it for Vulture.

 

 

By design, writing a book is a solitary affair.

 

You can do your research in the city streets, conduct your interviews in crowded coffee shops, huddle with your editor in dimly lit bars. But at the end of the day, it’s you alone with your words. And maybe a bottle. And The Office streaming in the background as you try to articulate what it is you’re trying to tell the world.

 

After months and months, you finish it — well, it’s never really finished, but you ship it. Then about a year later, that snarling, insatiable beast that you have been feeding and attempting to tame is unleashed upon the world, with a whimper or a roar. The book tour, the best-seller list, the airport flu, the airport bars, the hotel bars, the bar bars. It cascades into a blur.

 

And then the letters arrive.

Keep reading here.

Order here.

 

Want to know what it’s about? Read below!

 

Have you ever wanted to solve a murder? Gather the clues the police overlooked. Put together the pieces. Identify the suspect.

 

Journalist Billy Jensen spent fifteen years investigating unsolved murders, fighting for the families of victims. Every story he wrote had one thing in common—it didn’t have an ending. The killer was still out there.

 

But after the sudden death of a friend, crime writer Michelle McNamara, Billy became fed up. Following a dark night, he came up with a plan. A plan to investigate past the point when the cops have given up. A plan to solve the murders himself.

 

In Chase Darkness with Me, you’ll ride shotgun as Billy identifies the Halloween Mask Murderer, finds a missing girl in the California Redwoods, and investigates the only other murder in New York City on 9/11. You’ll hear intimate details of the hunts for two of the most terrifying serial killers in history: his friend Michelle’s pursuit of the Golden State Killer which is chronicled in I’ll Be Gone In The Dark which Billy helped finish after Michelle’s passing, and his own quest to find the murderer of the Allenstown 4 family.

 

And Billy gives you the tools—and the rules—to help solve murders yourself.

 

Gripping, complex, unforgettable, Chase Darkness with Me is an examination of the evil forces that walk among us, illustrating a novel way to catch those killers, and a true crime narrative unlike any you’ve listened to before.

 

With a foreword by Karen Kilgariff of My Favorite Murder.

 

Chase Darkness with Me is available for preorder. You can order it here.

Michelle McNamara was a writer first. Then she became a citizen detective. Then she merged the two and we can now finally say she is the author of a true crime classic.

 

After months of going through all of her documents and chapters and notes and emails, pulling and pushing and putting it all together, and then trying our best in part 3 to follow some of the strings she left us to get out of the maze, seeing her beautiful prose and intense research in hardcover felt amazing.

 

 

Then I opened the book and saw Michelle’s photo on the inside jacket, and it was like a sledgehammer hit my chest all over again.

 

It’s the same feeling I get when I get a solve–elation, followed immediately by sadness, because no matter what, it will not bring the victim back. We should be going out for drinks and celebrating this week. This is by all accounts the true crime book event of the year. It’s already being called a “true crime classic.” But it’s still…grrrr, I’ll be drinking tonight.

 

The book jacket photo is from the same shoot as the photo to the right. The last time I felt that sledgehammer was when I walked into Michelle’s memorial at Largo and saw this pic blown up, giant-sized. Then they played David Bowie, and now I can’t hear the opening snare drum of “Five Years” without thinking of this badass woman.

 

That day Patton, Paul and I vowed to do everything we could to bring Michelle’s work into the light. Today is the day the world can see what she was working on.

 

So buy the book. It’s really good. I mean really good. Like you’ll be stopping yourself over and over saying “damn, that’s a great paragraph” good. If you don’t believe me, read this review here:

 

What we discover, beautifully, is McNamara’s interest in human beings. There’s a spooky, suspenseful magic to the way the author constructs bite-sized short stories — tales of jealous siblings, happy young couples, impulsive children and “stony” parents — and infuses them with that lurking inevitability of terrible, potentially deadly crimes.—Entertainment Weekly (David Canfield)

 

And here:

 

“This book had to be finished,” [Patton Oswalt] said in a telephone interview. “Knowing how horrible this guy was, there was this feeling of, you’re not going to silence another victim. Michelle died, but her testimony is going to get out there.”

 

Shortly after her death, Mr. Oswalt recruited Billy Jensen, an investigative journalist, and Paul Haynes, who worked closely with Ms. McNamara on the book as a researcher, to comb through her handwritten notes and the roughly 3,500 files on her computer and piece together the story she set out to tell.

 

“I’ll Be Gone in the Dark,” due out Feb. 27, is both a vivid and meticulous investigation of a twisted predator who terrorized quiet, upper middle-class communities in California for nearly a decade, and a wrenching personal account from a writer who became consumed by her subject. It’s drawn accolades from some of the country’s top crime and horror writers, including Stephen King, Michael Connelly, Megan Abbott and Gillian Flynn, who wrote an introduction to the book. —New York Times (Alexandra Alter)

 

And here:

 

​McNamara fascinatingly evokes the development of post-war Californian suburbia, “a predator’s paradise” where single-storey houses in communities planned by visionaries such as Joseph Eichler became “eerie” filmic tableaus, with their occupants displayed “like rare museum objects”.– The Independent (Alaisdar Lees)

 

And here:

 

By the time of her sudden death in 2016, McNamara had inspired an online community of sleuths who continue to research the crimes. With its exemplary mix of memoir and reportage, this remarkable book is a modern true crime classic. — Publishers Weekly

 

And here:

 

McNamara’s background in fiction demonstrated itself in a superb ability to tell a story in a nonfiction context. She had a well-developed knack for presenting a situation in a single, memorable image. These ranged from a recollection of her mother in her beige armchair in the living room of their home, circling her finger in the air to tell Michelle’s friends ringing the doorbell to go around to the unlocked back door, to her description of retired homicide investigator Larry Crompton as looking “like the kind of tall, lean, honest-faced rancher John Wayne would have trusted in one of his Westerns.” New York Journal of Books (Michael J. McCann)

 

And here:

 

We don’t review much true crime at Crime Fiction Lover – our passion is for fiction – but this book is exceptional in the way it captures a specific time and place, as well as some unforgettable, if brief, character portraits of victims and police investigators. McNamara obtained her MFA in fiction writing, and, although her accounts of the victims’ lives and stories are factual, they have all the vivid descriptive power and fluency that fiction can bring to the reader. Not only does it give voice to the victims and their families, it also does a brilliant job recreating that atmosphere of panic that gripped the state during that time.– Crime Fiction Lover (Marina Sofia)

 

And here are the Amazon reviews.

 

And the Goodreads reviews.

 

I have started some social campaigns and geo-targeted buys (targeted to people who lived in the areas of the crimes but have since moved away across the world) to try and dig up any new information, like I promised I would do.

 

The book is finally be on the shelves, but that doesn’t mean Paul, Patton and myself are going to stop. We won’t stop until this guy is identified and brought to justice, even if he’s already shuffled off his mortal coil, little prick and all (you’ll have to read the book to get that reference).

 

And when we do catch the guy, I want to meet him. I want to show him that picture of Michelle and say to him “This is the woman that helped catch you.”

 

In the meantime, ride shotgun with Michelle on her journey to find him. She may have paused her investigation down here for a spell, but I’m sure she is up there interviewing people as we speak.

 

Order “I’ll Be Gone in the Dark” here. 

 

Still need convincing? Here’s Stephen King’s review:

 

What readers need to know—what makes this book so special—is that it deals with two obsessions, one light and one dark. The Golden State Killer is the dark half; Michelle McNamara’s is the light half. It’s a journey into two minds, one sick and disordered, the other intelligent and determined. I loved this book. —Stephen King