She-Rox: A Rock & Roll Novel (7 page)

Eddie continued, “Remember what I told you last night? There are moments on your previous CD when I hear hints of brilliance, but it passes almost as soon as it begins, and these new tracks . . . well . . . you’re doing it again. Your riffs are treading a heavily beaten path. I’ve heard it a hundred times. You’ve just prettied it up with a bunch of effects and spit polish. Granted, it’s metal, but it’s been disguised with so much gloss, it’s like first date music—there’s no substance underneath . . . it’s a padded bra.”

“The new tracks you heard this evening are a
padded bra
?”

“That track, ‘Magic Menagerie.”

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s a throwback to KISS with a little Gary Glitter thrown in for good measure. The track ‘Baal & Chain’ . . . it’s the same as ‘Rock Mondo’ from your last CD. ‘Night Walkers,’ that one could be better if you took the five chord down a half step, making the progression a one, five, four -- with a flatted fifth – more Black Sabbath, less glam.”

“All that, huh?”

“Slade, don’t be fake. I don’t just hear it—I feel it . . . you’re smarter than that. When you give me the most flattering version of yourself, give an honest one.” Pausing, she told him, “But you’ve got—I don’t know—mass marketing jitters with all its deficiencies and it’s totally cluttering up your creativity.”

“I see,” he said, “well, was there anything that you did like?”

“
Yes.
” Eddie was glad to give him the good news. She repeated his lyrics:

Footprint of life

Proof of mine

I die every day

Counting time

“And that chorus:

My soul unsublimed

A helpless crime

Tearing hinges off doorways

I still stand in line
–

Going nowhere, fast

“Ah,” he smiled, “You liked ‘Counting Time’.”

“Slade, it was by far the best thing I heard—it could be better than ‘Love Slave.’ I want more of that.”

“Uh, huh,” Slade sat thinking, thinking, thinking.

“But, now, I really do have to go home.”

“Oh, right.” Slade started the motor and began the drive back. As they stopped at a light, he asked, “Do you always give this unyielding opinion to the rest of your band?”

“I just got in with them. That’s why I have the photo shoot on Friday. I’m the new girl. I don’t have a clue how all this is going to pan out, yet. I just finished a new song yesterday and fixed one of their old existing songs. It was awful, now, it’s less awful, I guess. That’s why I got the gig in the first place. I have to write these Katz a commercial hit so they can plaster their names on my writing and become
famous
.”

“Isn’t that what you’re trying to do as well, the fame thing?”

“Personally, I have no desire to become “face” famous. I’d rather be “name” famous, songwriter famous, Andrew Lloyd Weber famous. I’ll bet he can go into the supermarket and buy a loaf of bread without getting mobbed. I want to be able to walk to my mailbox, take out a royalty check and do it wearing bunny slippers.”

“It doesn’t work that way. Anybody who has a pair of eyes in their head is going to take one look at you and, I’m sorry, but you can kiss the bunny slippers goodbye. You seem to be rather chummy with Raven.”

“Raven, yes, the other two, no.”

“They can’t be that bad,” Slade softly commented, watching the light.

“We’ll find out. I’ve got my first rehearsal on Saturday. I saw them last weekend, but I just watched. This Saturday, I’m taking them one of my songs to try out.”

“Esther, my dear, you are such a musical snob.” Slade laughed out loud. “Isn’t music ever fun for you? Do you ever listen to anything without over-analyzing the holy hell out of it?”

“Music doesn’t need to be pleasurable.”

“Says who?”

“Igor Stravinsky. His ‘Rite of Spring’ at the premiere in France, the concert ended in a full blown riot. You think Ozzy is cryptic? Try some Mussorsky.”

Back at the Emerald Fox, Slade found Bebe with the others.

“Where are the new friends, or doesn’t the club serve minors?” Bebe asked.

“I was expecting a catty remark. You didn’t disappoint me, dear,” he said.

She looked up into Slade’s eyes and gave a disingenuous smile. Sitting down in the chair next to her, Slade asked Taz, “Would you mind pulling an all-nighter? I’ve got something I want to work on.”

“Ready whenever you are.”

“Good, I’m going to the bar, getting us a six-pack. I’ll see you over there.”

Taz wandered back into the studio, and saw Slade had pulled up ‘Night Walkers’ on the computer. With his guitar in his lap and a serious look on his face, Taz knew it was definitely going to be an all-nighter.

Sitting next to him at the control board, and glancing over, he asked, “Eddie get home okay?” Slade just nodded. “Was she a good girl?”

“She’s an adorable critic. She’ll be the death of any man, that’s for sure.”

Photo shoot, Paramount Studios Lot

Eddie stood in front of a full length mirror contemplating her white vinyl mini skirt with boots to match.

Vince had booked a sound stage on the Paramount lot. In one corner of the huge set was a white nylon parachute used as a backdrop for a 1968 electric blue Ford Mustang Convertible.

In the other corner were two make-up booths which Gretchen and Ginger occupied, busy perfecting their pouts.

Eddie walked across the sound stage to join Raven who was watching Entertainment Today on a small TV. Faith Hemmert, one of the correspondents for the program, held a microphone in the face of Todd Rivers. Todd, working with the rap artist, “Shiva,” was hired to produce his latest hit “Gambit.”

Watching it, Raven said, “Just what the world needs. Another rapper sticking his diamond-enhanced fingers into the camera flanked by high status man-candy.”

“If Ludwig Van Beethoven were alive today, listening to this gutter mouth, what would he think?”
Eddie thought

“Oh, well, what we’re doing here today isn’t all that different, I guess.”

“Yep, we’re just hired cheesecake for flesh peddlers.”

“Don’t let Vince hear you say that. He’s in pretty thick with Todd Rivers. He’s trying to get the Moonshine label to sign us, so you might have to kiss the royal ring.”

“What if I wore a Louis Vuitton baseball cap like Shiva, here? Would that get me a deal? The dude’s practically yelling at me.”

“
Girl,
you just a playa hata,” Raven joked.

“Yeah, that’s it. Shiva’s brave attempt at greatness has brought me to my knees, groveling in the dust for which I find no phoenix wherewith to rise from these ashes of my covetousness and shame.”

“What is that, Shakespeare or something?”

“Nope, that’s my inner demon shouting at my inner saint.”

“As long as you smile pretty for the camera.”

The clip stopped and Todd’s face returned to the screen.

Faith, coaxed,
“So, Todd, there’s been a rumor swirling around Hollywood—”

“
Rumor?”

“Yes, that you have offered a ten thousand dollar reward for your Grammy, which, I understand, has been stolen.
”

Todd blanched, “
Oh
—
that.”

“It is missing, is that correct?”

“
Yes, yes it is, but you know awards aren’t important. It’s the music that matters.”

“
So, are you saying you don’t care if you ever get it back?”

“No, I’m not saying that either. It would be nice if it was returned, but I’m not going to lose sleep over it and I don’t recall offering any kind of reward.”

“So, if somebody out there knows where it is, you won’t pony up a reward for its safe return?”

“
If anybody out there knows anything about my Grammy and wishes a reward for its safe return, I have no problem with that. If not, no big deal, it’s a . . . doorstop.”

“
There’s a reward, but it isn’t ten thousand dollars. This is Faith Hemmert for Entertainment Today, saying, if he can’t get you the cash, I will, for an exclusive on the story of ‘Grammy, Grammy, whose got the Grammy?!’”

The band blunder was just announced for the whole world to hear. Raven saw Eddie’s look of complete dread and whispered, “You know, don’t you?”

Eddie nodded.

“Who told you?”

“Ginger
.
”

“Why did she tell you?”

“You need to ask her that.”

“Hey, you two over there, it’s your turn,” Daphne yelled.

The door to the sound stage slammed shut. Vince announced, “I just got you booked to play “The Whiskey” in two weeks. So you’re going to have to put in a couple extra rehearsals to get Eddie worked in. The agency wants to see the new girl and new material.”

Later that night, Eddie heard Vince say “new material” and got to work.

In The Confessional

Locked in this closet

Speaking through a wall

Listen

I will tell you all

Fidelity betrayed me

Love was all

But love is lost

What that’s left

A dreadful cost

My scheme it bloomed at Midnight

In a Confessional

Alone with a priest

Thru the screen

I see his collar

But he’s a man

Do I bother?

In the Confessional

He’s adorned in black and white

Dirty hands

I am to blame

But in my heart

I feel no shame

Can you help me

Oh saving grace

Unloading my guilt

To a darkened face

There was a tap on the door. It was Raven. “Eddie, we’re all going out to get something to eat. Do you want to come?”

“No, I’ve got to get ready for tomorrow.” The comment was half-truth, the other half: she didn’t want to spend any of the $87.22 in her account on French fries. Payment from the studio work still hadn’t come in the mail and her meager funds were dwindling. She headed upstairs and stopped in the kitchen, grabbing a candy bar from a hidden stash in the cupboard and went to work.