(no subject)
I'd made a few phone calls, caught up with a few people. Being vague about where you've been to muso types is definitely on the easy side - they probably can't even remember what they did yesterday. I booked a gig for Veruca and myself at the Bronze in a day or so. They've not been overrun with bookings like they used to be. Tony just said to turn up and we could play, if someone else was there, we'd just play support.
I didn't know what to be billed as - me? Veruca? Definitely not Dingoes, and I didn't think using Shy without checking with Veruca would be a good idea. So I just said not to bill us. If people were there, they'd be there. I didn't want a crowd, I just wanted to get out - and get paid. All this sitting around and not doing anything wasn't fun. Especially in the town you grew up in, when you knew exactly what was happening, and where, avoiding it was hard.
I pulled my travel-battered guitar case out from under my bed and flicked it open. I'd sold my electric when I left, all I had was this acoustic, the first guitar I ever owned. It had a special sound to me, maybe just because it meant so much, but even Veruca agreed that it had a certain ring to it. She was calmer, more focused whenever I played it, so I played it often. I looked forward to performing with her while I played. I wasn't after a wild, dramatic set. Calm, focused, that's what I wanted. That's all I ever wanted.
I pulled out a slip of paper from my notebook, and a marker, and roughed up a setlist. A couple of songs Veruca had written, a couple of covers...Radiohead, The Beatles, Mojave 3...surprisingly an Indigo Girls song that Veruca had taken a liking to - although she only felt that when I played it on this guitar.
Checking my watch, I jumped in the shower to pass the time while I waited for Veruca to get back, so as I could tell her we had a job.
I didn't know what to be billed as - me? Veruca? Definitely not Dingoes, and I didn't think using Shy without checking with Veruca would be a good idea. So I just said not to bill us. If people were there, they'd be there. I didn't want a crowd, I just wanted to get out - and get paid. All this sitting around and not doing anything wasn't fun. Especially in the town you grew up in, when you knew exactly what was happening, and where, avoiding it was hard.
I pulled my travel-battered guitar case out from under my bed and flicked it open. I'd sold my electric when I left, all I had was this acoustic, the first guitar I ever owned. It had a special sound to me, maybe just because it meant so much, but even Veruca agreed that it had a certain ring to it. She was calmer, more focused whenever I played it, so I played it often. I looked forward to performing with her while I played. I wasn't after a wild, dramatic set. Calm, focused, that's what I wanted. That's all I ever wanted.
I pulled out a slip of paper from my notebook, and a marker, and roughed up a setlist. A couple of songs Veruca had written, a couple of covers...Radiohead, The Beatles, Mojave 3...surprisingly an Indigo Girls song that Veruca had taken a liking to - although she only felt that when I played it on this guitar.
Checking my watch, I jumped in the shower to pass the time while I waited for Veruca to get back, so as I could tell her we had a job.