Finally did something normal tonight. We had our first band practice of
the new world order in Adisa’s garage. On fire—wrote a monster new tune,
real old skool, Minor Threat style. I got on this hooked-up bass riff and
then Claire totally screamed over the top.
I ain’t got no energy
for your messed-up world
I ain’t got no energy
for your stupid mi-i-nd games
I only got
syn-ergy
un-predictability
ex-plosivity
so don’t you dare mess with me!
God, I wanted to sing so badly, but there’s no way Claire’s gonna hand
over that mic. Sometimes I write lyrics and give them to her and she goes,
“Cool” and puts them into her back pocket, which is like a black hole for
rhymes cos no line I’ve ever written comes out alive again.
It all got a bit hectic in the end, though, and Stacey, the drummer,
hurled her sticks at the garage door—but instead of bouncing off metal
they bounced off Adisa’s mum’s chest, who’d just come in with Coke and
potato chips. His mum is Nigerian and she’s got presence, if you know
what I mean. She breathed deeply and muttered something about white
people’s music.
At the end everyone made a vow to give up 10 points a week to power
up the band. I felt dead emotional when I said my vow. This band’s my
lifeline. I don’t know how we’re going to keep going, though—a
screaming, Straight X punk band isn’t anybody’s idea of important right
now.
Sayfa 22Kitabı yarım bıraktı
·
37 views
Yorum yapabilmeniz için giriş yapmanız gerekmektedir.