With a signed contract, £2000 in the bank, a new rehearsal place, away from the neighbours where we could be as loud as we wanted, and four happy musicians, it was time to hit the studio. We set up a day with Hallburn and I took all I already had with me: my first four demo songs and the two new ones, May and The World’s End.
- I’d wager for, maybe, four more songs, if you want it to run for an hour. Maybe set the absolute lower limit to 50 minutes – Hallburn crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the worn swivel chair – Do you have anything else? At all? Maybe you could all do a little jam session and come up with something.
Martin shook his head, smiling – No, no Hallburn. Boss has set us up straight since day one – he leaned forward, his arms on his knees – what was it? This is not a democracy?
- It’s not a democracy – I reassured.
It sounds more pedantic than it really was, trust me.
Alfie laughed, as he twirled his drumsticks between his fingers – Thus here we are, living under a dictatorship…
Hallburn tilted his head, which made me believe I was causing quite the conundrum in his head – Are you really not giving your musicians artistic freedom?
- Does a composer give the orchestra artistic freedom? - I asked, not taking my eyes off the notebook I was skimming for something else we could use. This one did sound pedantic, I’m sorry.
Alfie broke out in song, in his own gibberish version of the USSR anthem. He could be oblivious to the actual words, but he did not sound all that bad.
Simon tried to fix his mohawk that was getting too long and kept stubbornly leaning on to the right – Mate, you’re getting paid, aren’t you? - he gave up and just flicked it – So, shut up and just play.
- Is that what fuck authority means to you, punk boy? - Freddie said with a sneer, his cigarette between his fingers – Because I know I wouldn’t mind having a word in.
- Pfft… lead guitarists… - Simon mumbled something more about main characters, after giving Freddie the two-fingered salute, and just moped on the couch.
I closed the notebook and took out the scores I’d scribbled – Look, it’s not like you can’t voice your opinions. I never said I was completely closed off to changes, but this is my music.
Hallburn threw his hands up – Alright, alright. I’m just trying to understand where all that is coming from.
I got up and handed him the scores to something else – I’ve been working on this, but I’m still lacking lyrics for it.
- Has anyone ever told you you have dreadful penmanship? What’s it called? I can’t read it.
- I’ve heard it once or twice – I leaned over his shoulder – Bond. Seriously, you couldn’t read Bond?
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
- Like in James? - he laughed.
- Like in an unbreakable bond. Imagine Siamese twins, or like selling your soul at a crossroads sort of bond, I don’t know.
We exchanged views on some technical aspects of it all. I really thought Robbie was getting the hand of what I wanted, when he charged in, once more.
- But, what’s keeping you from working with them? Is it that you don’t want to credit them on the songs?
- It’s nothing like that.
- Just leave the girl alone, Rob – Simon broke up his moping track – If she wants to do it alone, let her. It’s none of your business.
I was now travelling back home on the weekends, so I could spend some time with my grandmother. Dr. Hughes had told her to stay put and not overexert herself with travelling, if she could help it.
She always asked for private concerts, so I could show her the progress I’d made, and I would sit at the piano and play the acoustic versions of my songs for her.
- You can’t say you have a bad life – she blurted out of the blue, one afternoon after I’d finished up a song – But it’s not been easy, has it, darling?
I rested my hands on my thighs and smiled at her – Some people have it so much harder, Mami. I really cannot complain. I’m not hungry, I’m not cold…
Mami rested her elbow on the arm of her seat and touched her temple – It’s human nature to complain, darling. No one would blame you if you did. - she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was looking frail – I want you to make me a promise.
I reached out and closed the fallboard over the keys, as quietly as I could. The conversation was taking a serious turn and my guess was that music was no longer an option, at least for the time being.
- I may not know much about the world you’re just stepping in to – she said – But what I do know is that you may be entering it alone.
My heart skipped a beat. I was not ready to go down that route – Mami…
- Let me finish, my dear. From what I gather, there is a lot to lead one astray. And I want you to promise me you won’t lose your focus and you will not be tempted by things you should not be tempted with.
I was confused. Was she talking about drugs? Did my Mami even know anything about it, to begin with?
- You and your siblings are the only direct family I have left. - Mami went on, not minding the confused look on my face – And I’d hate to step out of this life knowing that I did not warn you enough about what might be waiting for you out there. You are too young to be doing this alone.
I shook my head – I’ll be fine, Mami…
- What is your focus? - she said, in that tone she would use when she was testing me.
I hesitated – The House…?
- Family. - Mami corrected me - For years, I thought the House was my focus, as well. But then I realised that, if all of this was to be gone tomorrow, all I would have left would be you and Tommy and Clara. You are what matters most and I would have liked to have understood that sooner – a teardrop ran down her face – I would never have separated you, if I did.
I got up and walked over, hugging my vanishing grandmother. It was all I was able to do for her.
- Now, promise me. - she whispered in my ear – Promise only me, that you will be careful and you won’t lose your way.
- I promise, Mami…
In between my journeys back and forth, the time we spent in the studio and the hours I tried to dedicate to study so I wouldn’t be behind in all of it, we still managed to wedge in a different side quest. Steve Wallace had told us he had a friend who owned a pub and asked us if we would like to fill in some hours, a couple of days a week, just playing some covers. We would get paid just enough for gas and maybe some chips for the five of us, but it could prove to be good training grounds for a budding band.
So, every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, there we were, playing classic rock covers, sometimes venturing into 80s rock, all with out little twist of lemon, just to make the songs a little bit our own, as well.
But, if I thought that it would take the stage fright away from me, I was deeply mistaken. And it was not a bad thing, after all, as I learned that, the more relaxed I went on the dais, the more I was prone to err. So, a little touch of nerves was just the right thing to keep me on my toes.