Teen's Weekly — February 17, 1966
Peppermint Plains, Marigold States — In only three months the music industry has been turned on its head: a veritable arms race has begun as the world's two largest record companies, Kyrietone and Magnolia Haus, each attempt to secure the number one chart spot for themselves. Responsible for the war are a local favorite from Peppermint Plains, whose authorship of Johnny Vallerie's comeback hit, “Please Keep Dreaming”, has thrust them into the national limelight amid controversy regarding the song's ownership and record-breaking climb up the charts. Magnolia Haus' rival, Kyrietone, eager to dethrone Haus signees Vallerie and Bonnie Godiva is investing all in on the new group, and send them off today on a short regional tour to drum up support.
“They're absolutely phenomenal!” says Neil Applegate, Kyrietone's head of A&R. “I don't wanna sound biased, but these kids are something else! Just meet them, and you'll really see that there's some kind of magic inside their heads.”
The Love You Forevers, authors of Vallerie's monster hit, have been the subject of intense speculation and rumor ever since exploding onto the scene only three months ago. Managed by the son of Peppermint Plains banking magnate Rothion Childress, the group has only done a single previous interview (all other attempts to date have been met with the threat of great suffering and claims that they were with the 'police'), leaving a public hungry to know anything about them. A veil of mystery has thus cropped up around the band, leading to their being accused of everything from riots to acts of historical destruction, which the band seems to just laugh off!
Many have come to believe that the band is nothing but an urban legend, that the acts of vandalism surrounding their shows could be attributed instead to the effect of social corruption that rock 'n' roll music has in general, and that one smart band has done well to claim that attention for themselves. Others claim simply that the band just doesn't exist, and any shows under the name of “the Love You Forevers” are only in an attempt to steal that notoriety.
These accusations could not be more false, as I and any who attended the press conference can tell you, and the transcript below will prove. The chaos is real; they have names, and they are Aster, Sylvia, Cecil, and Marion.
—
Q: Would you like to introduce yourselves?
Cecil: I'm Cecil, I—
Sylvia: Aster, you messed up your hair!
(Editor's Note: Their manager, Albion Floyd Childress, took to the stage at this point in an attempt to fix Aster's hair, visibly irate. The girl seemed to be flushed, suffering from a fever, and as best I could tell, was fighting back against him. A minute-long intermission then followed as the moderator, John Mareby-Roquefort, attempted to intervene. From what I and the surrounding journalists could deduce, Miss Aster was supposed to have had her hair done up in a bob, but undid it before the press conference, explaining her unruly, frantic appearance on the stage.)
Moderator: I'm sorry, could you repeat the question?
Q: Would you like to make introductions?
Cecil: I'm Cecil, I play the keys and write music.
Marion: Wazzup! I'm Marion, I play the skins.
Aster: … I-I... I... play bass.
Sylvia: You also write, silly!
Laughter.
Sylvia: Hey, Cecil, looking at Aster like that is rude!
Cecil: Huh? I—
Q: So, you're real working rock stars now— what do you kids think about embarking on your first-ever tour?
Sylvia: Ah! It's a blast! We even have a tour bus and it's full of complimentary food, and there's a television set on board so I can watch Zorgs, and—
Moderator: That food comes out of our deductible, Sylvia—
Cecil: There's a lot of great venues on the tour that I'm excited to play.
Marion: It's kinda like being a cowboy, isn't it? Setting out on the open road.
Sylvia: Cows?
Aster: …
Q: Are we going to be seeing any more chaos on the road? (Laughter.)
Cecil: Excuse me?
Marion: Yeah, because they're gonna have to hold me back from rockin' too hard before I bring the place down!
Sylvia: Marion, you can't talk about bringing the place down in front of Mr. Floyd!
Aster: …
Q: (Laughter.) In all seriousness, though, your track record with 'incidents' isn't exactly sterling; what do you have to say to venues who book you and might be worried about their property?
Cecil: You say that like we plan it to begin with. Those moments are as much a nightmare for me as—
Marion: They should know what they're getting into when they book Marion.
Sylvia: Marion, this is serious!
Moderator: Alright, listen here, this is a Q&A, not an interrogation—
Q: Then what do you say to claims that you're social misfits? The Peppermint Plains clocktower graffiti just being one example of the dysfunctional behavior people accuse you of.
Marion: Huh? What do you have to say to claims that your suit is too big, you—
Cecil: People find dysfunction in everything.
Sylvia: Misfit? You're soundin' like Cecil!
Aster: …
(Editor's Note: The scrum was interrupted once again as Mr. Childress confronted the journalist behind the question. I attempted to intervene with a colleague of mine, seeing as he was holding the man by the shirt collar, but hotel security had broken it up before we were needed. Mr. Childress was then escorted out into the hall while the conference resumed. He could be heard yelling something about “permits” and “cleared name” as he was led away.)
Q: But numerous riots have broken out at your shows— The Strawberry Set, the Savoy Ballroom. Do you support these wanton acts of lunacy?
Cecil: What? Why would we—
Marion: Lunacy? Listen man, he's just our manager, I don't support anything.
Sylvia: I'll always support Mr. Floyd!
Aster: …
Sylvia: Wait, like wonton soup?
Laughter.
Q: The Savoy Ballroom in particular was a tragic affair— a venue with almost two-hundred-and-fifty years of history. Your performance dealt near irreparable destruction to a portion of the roof and even caused a fire on its premises. What do you say to this? Where were your statements against this tragedy?
Marion: Up your— Listen, where were the statements against my drum kit being destroyed, man? That was a tragedy, you ain't ever replacing that! And what does Floyd do? Not even a single sorry; I cried over that kit for weeks man, I—
Sylvia: Mr. Floyd explained that it was a whole big accident! He was more sorry than anyone!
Cecil: Again, you think we planned for our manager to come tumbling down forty feet from the ceiling?
Sylvia: Mr. Floyd...
Aster: …
Q: Okay, I have a lighter question; what's the deal with the stoic one? (Points to Aster.) Does she talk or do you guys have to write them out as lyrics, first?
(Editor's Note: We became worried that the girl may have been choking on her water; she looked like she was struggling to breathe and was regurgitating gasped breaths, though we came quickly to realize that this was all just a part of her cool, introspective persona.)
Sylvia: What did you say?!
Cecil: Sylvia, you can't— stop—
Marion: Well, you see, she's the... uh... quiet one, I'm the bad boy, Cecil—
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Sylvia: Cecil, let me go! Aster, don't clobber him! Let me!
Aster: (Editor's Note: And here I thought that my wife's ruby earrings were red; this girl looked like the bull and flag all in one.)
Q: Now, now, ladies, I was just making a joke; sometimes a sweet face goes better with a little sour expression.
Moderator: I would sincerely advise that you change your tone, for your safety.
Q: My safety? (Laughter.) You're talking to a veteran here! I'll take my chances with Peppermint Plains' latest pop band. (More laughter.) Anyways—
Marion: You should apologize to her, man. Show some respect.
Sylvia: Yeah, or else!
Q: (Turns to the moderator.) This an interview or an (indistinct)-kissing competition?
Marion: What was that, you jabroni? I'll—
Moderator: Alright, let's take another question.
Sylvia: Hey, Cecil, what happened to having her back?!
Cecil: What? He didn't give me a chance to say anything!
Sylvia: Because you're too busy making Aster feel bad for her messy hair; stop staring you jerk!
Moderator: No, not you Rodger; I haven't forgotten what you did with my last editorial. Uh, you, I don't recognize you. What's your question?
Q: Yes, do you find that you owe your success to taking Childress money? What about the claims that you are 'mobbed up'?
Moderator: Next question, please—
Marion: No, it's alright, Mary, I see what these jerks are aiming at. Yeah, man, we're swimming in mob money; my pockets are so full I can hardly walk around!
(Editor's Note: It would be unfitting to describe the noise of pencil meeting notepad which filled the room following this utterance as a 'chorus', so I will instead liken it to a gallop of hooves from a stampeding army.)
Moderator: Marion, what did we tell you?!
Marion: A lot, that doesn't mean I heard any of it.
(Editor's Note: The fella with the hat, Cecil, kept his thumbs buried in his eyes during this interaction. I, suffering from frequent migraines, could relate; though it's more likely that he's just the introspective one.)
Q: Do you then dispute the allegations that you have been seen around members of the Aspartame Gang?
Marion: Dispute? Man, I can bring them around if you really want to see for yourself.
Moderator: Marion, when Floyd gets wind of this—
Marion: (Rises from seat.) Listen, I know your type— the straight-laced fella who comes home from his office job and wants to kick off his shoes and watch a gangster flick, but doesn't ever—
Sylvia: Ew, Marion! Don't be spitting your toothpick onto me!
Cecil: Sylvia, stop, you cannot be kicking people!
Aster: …
Sylvia: Well tell Marion not to be such a gross idiot!
Q: Well, the way I see it, fella, you're a little defensive for somebody who could've easily denied the charges—
Moderator: Next question, please!
Marion: You see one bad boy and think right away that they have to run with crime, that— let go of me!
Sylvia: He's too heavy, Cecil, I can't hold him back!
Cecil: (Groans.)
Aster: …
Q: (Directed to Marion.) You're the bad boy of the group?
(Editor's Note: This innocuous question was more of a lifesaver than it appeared. Hotel security had been steadily amassing around the band's table, poised for confrontation should the band's drummer make a go for it, and many of us journalists had begun to rise from our seats in preparation for flight, when this question all but pacified the man, who began to blush.)
Marion: I mean, I have been called a bad boy before. (Sits down.)
Sylvia: Here, have your gross toothpick back!
Cecil: Sylvia, stop!
Aster: …
Q: You have any aspirations for the movies?
Marion: Do I have any aspirations for the movies?! I'd kill to be in a flick with Marty Coyote, man!
Laughter.
Sylvia: Coyote...?
Cecil: …
Aster: …
Q: You wouldn't be the first celebrity in the group, would you? Moving back to the topic of Mr. Childress, half the group once belonged to a brief but popular novelty act under his management, did they not?
Cecil: Yes, me and Sylvia were in a group of his that performed comedy songs.
Sylvia: It was totally cool! We got to dress up, and even played on TV once! It was like a big field trip!
Marion: And it sounds no different from the stuff Cecil plays nowadays!
Laughter.
Cecil: I'm not taking this from a self-stylized “bad boy”.
Marion: Hey, listen here. I don't stylize nothin'!
Aster: …
Moderator: Alright, we'll take a few more questions; the band can't look pretty up here forever. (Laughter.) Yes, Alphonse? You'll owe me.
Q: Thanks, John. What do the Love You Forevers have to say about the war? What—
Moderator: Oh! Alphonse, are you kidding?!
Q: I'm a war correspondent, John.
Sylvia: It's the worst! We're invading the homes of people who have done nothing but be in between two superpowers, and when they want us to leave we call them evil!
Moderator: Sylvia, please.
Q: You don't support this country in the fight for freedom?
Sylvia: They're just trying to be free themselves! So, why then—
Moderator: We really must be drawing this to a close; one more question.
Marion: Hey, instead of sweating all over the place, Mareby, why don't you just let her talk?
Q: I'd like to get to the question on everyone's mind— your involvement with Johnny Vallerie's comeback hit, “Please Keep Dreaming”. How did he come to sing a song that you, a completely unknown band, had written?
Cecil: Well, uh, we ran into him at a studio, and—
Marion: And that jerk-off thought he could steal our song right from under us!
Sylvia: Marion, you can't say that!
Moderator: Alright! That's all the time we have—
—
“Because he took advantage of a young, naïve band and their manager, who offered him a song when he had none, yet didn't so much as give a penny of royalties to, let alone thank!”
Aster's exclamation was like the first breath of the near-drowned— and received all of the same attention. Every single eye in the room fell on her while their tongues stopped; nobody wished to budge an inch if it meant missing anything she'd say.
Aster looked out at them, her limbs light and peppered with the needles of adrenaline; there were so many eyes all set on her that her brain seemed to explode. The silence— a long, drawn-out confusion extended in the stupor of her rush, was perforated by the flash of a camera here and there. These lights, and those of the rigging overhead, behaved as the sun does to a dying desert traveler— their blinding assault scattered all ability to think constructively or attempt any introspection, and seemed more to be a personification and reminder of hardship and suffering than any temporal, temporary thing. Aster felt keenly all of her protective walls dissolve under the light and felt the eyes of the room, as well as those journalistic tendrils which would soak up and communicate her every move to the greater public, concentrated entirely on her.
How foolish was she, she thought, to think that she could handle something as socially demanding as a press conference? She, who had just spent the past week unable to make eye contact with either of Sylvia's parents. Many people kept a cool and quiet persona, she had told herself, so there was no reason that she couldn't be like them. Her bandmates agreed, and even went as far as to concoct a plan to protect Aster from any embarrassment; to direct questions away from her towards them, to talk enough for her included, and to try and make her quietness appear cool, rather than a deficit worth questioning.
She felt a warm surge of love well up towards them for this, although she didn't consider it in terms as direct as love, except where Sylvia was concerned; for Aster, love was still an indistinct and confusing cloud of emotions that laid hidden within, unable to be articulated by a mind which was still too under-trained and under-nurtured in those happier feelings. She could only remark on it like an animal of an eclipse; able to behold it with all the awe it deserved but unable to understand anything about it. Regardless, the love was there, and their support brought Aster out into this arena, under the scrutiny of the world, which years ago she would've never considered possible for all the will in the universe. Despite that initial awkward utterance that began the interview, that mortifying stutter which sounded more to her like entrails up in her throat than any dignified response from the leader of one of Peppermint Plains' hottest rock bands, she had remained at the table, because of them— her band.
“And he wasn't only satisfied with that! Not only did he steal our song, he even called to cuss us out when our festival stole his turnout!”
“Go, Aster!” cried Sylvia, hopping from her seat.
Aster felt her chest burn as the journalist's eyes widened with excitement and they clutched onto their notepads like lovers clutch onto their chests. Her words were being devoured, and she had the impulse to see just how deep their stomachs went. The room blossomed like a rich bouquet in a furor of chatter, scraping chairs, and the flapping of pages turned as she grabbed the microphone and continued.
“He was in the studio for five minutes before he fucking (this was masked by Sylvia's cupping the microphone) left, leaving us to continue working on the song for an hour after!”
“Mob?!” suddenly cried someone from the hall.
“Mr. Floyd!” squealed Sylvia.
“I've said it before, and I'll say it again— we had permits you clowns!” he shrieked, pushing several of the hotel security to the floor as Sylvia attempted to run out and aid him.
“Nah, Sylvia, we really need to be going!” exclaimed Marion, hoisting her by her shoulders as her stubby legs kicked out.
“The band really need to get to practicing!” cried Mareby-Roquefort, half-weeping as he attended to the scattering journalists as though he were branding cattle on the run by way of sending them off with his business card and apologies, while Willie Cooper, who had been present at the beginning of the ceremonies to introduce the band, guffawed all the while.
Like a joyous kite-string, this laughter echoed out into the haze of rushing heart, tinnitus-ear, and excitement found only in opening the next layer of a Matryoshka doll— Aster couldn't help but think a new phase was now unveiling itself; and even as she spied Cecil's confused and discerning glare in their getaway, she couldn't help but be excited— their first ever tour had now begun.
—
I understand if this is all too hard to believe, dear reader. I myself could hardly tell if this was the journaling of a dream, and I was there! Nevertheless, I repeat my earlier statement that something remarkable is brewing in Peppermint Plains. If this article has had you clutching at your sides, or, even just left you in disbelief, then you owe yourself to see the band in person— a transcript of events cannot do them justice.
You can see the band at any of their twenty-one shows over the next two weeks, the dates of which will be affixed below. These dates line up with the first third of Bonnie Godiva's world tour, so if you're in town for any of those, consider adding these to your plan!
—Written by Arlington Eves
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The Love You Forevers — Tour Dates (Feb-Mar. 1966)
* February 17th, 1966 - The Banana Split – Cherry Lane
* February 18th, 1966 - Mr. Molehill's – Paddington Town
* February 19th, 1966 - The Brewer – Sally's Cove
* February 19th, 1966 - The Brewer – Sally's Cove
* February 21st, 1966 - Amoré Au Go Go – Carmandine City
* February 21st, 1966 - Phyllis' – Carmandine City
* February 22nd, 1966 - Sucre – Carmandine City
* February 23rd, 1966 - Three Raincoats – The Holly
* February 24th, 1966 - Brigitte Auditorium – Partridge Heights
* February 24th, 1966 - CineBon Drive-in Theater – Partridge Heights
* February 25th, 1966 - The Marsh and Mallow – Rosetown
* February 26th, 1966 - Leviathan's End – Tuffle-by-the-sea
* February 26th, 1966 - Electric Apricot – Tuffle-by-the-sea
* February 27h, 1966 - The Tea Set – Honeyburgh
* February 28th, 1966 - Thé Happening – Marycute Park
* February 28th, 1966 - ABC – Marycute Park
* March 1st, 1966 - Hey-La-Hey-La – Velvet Creek
* March 1st, 1966 - Hey-La-Hey-La – Velvet Creek
* March 2nd, 1966 - The Millenium – Merseybrook
* March 2nd, 1966 - Bard's Bonnet – Orange Acres
* March 3rd, 1966 - The Indigo Room – Cherryaire