Book Excerpt - - - The Band

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     The Band

     Onstage, a weathered-looking man eagle-eyes both back corners of the large divided space and turns back to a computer mounted on top of a boxy roller cart while two very pretty girls play a riff off of each other on drums and lead guitar. The weathered man nods to the keyboard player, who reminds Marisa of Devin even though he is long and tall and adult, and slings on his bass while the girls now stand together over a piece of paper and talk about it. The keyboardist hunches over silent scales of finger warm-ups, and the bass player thumps a tuneful rhythm and looks around the room with a practiced eye.

     On unspoken cue, the slinkily slender Charisse with tightly afro-ed hair strides to the microphone and Lulu the athletic fireball jumps behind her drum kit. Jasper inhales with newfound youth as he settles in with his bass, and fluid runs of Stubby’s keyboard fill the air.

     Subtly, sneakily, a tag line coalesces, supported by little tom-tom bops that develop into a soft beat. Then, a strike to the drum’s small hi-hat announces officially that the music has begun.

     Charisse, with streamlined vee guitar hanging ready, songbirds her start and Jasper is right behind her with the bassline. They take a breath and Stubby rolls a little melodic vibes interest into their pause so that Lulu can snap a quick rhythm when Jasper picks it up and Charisse sings the intro of a light friendly song that’s familiar, but now with a jazzy twist when played their way.

     Marisa startles with amazement and notices that Matt has the same expression. They eyebrow-raise ‘these guys are good’ to each other. Nate grins hugely at a waitress, points to the table and makes hand signs. The girl zooms off with her tray full of empty glasses.

     After Charisse introduces the band and they start their second song, a tasteful old-timey jazz standard, Marisa asks Nate, “The Nub Busters?” It’s the band’s name. Nate’s embarrassed non-answer only adds to her question, then the music takes over and for a while even the servers stop to weave and nod to a song everybody knows, performed better than anyone remembers.

     Nate’s Song

     The last song of the set is a sultry narration of an idealistic place formed out of nothing, existing nowhere, with a stormy refrain and heroic resolution that stops Nate motionless in his seat. Matt and Marisa forget their amusements because at times Charisse plays to their table with soaring guitar riffs that hold little crashes from Lulu, and she partially faces their way during the innocently sounding but suggestively sung refrain, with her rich red lips making a little ‘O’ at each ‘no time,’ ‘no where,’ ‘no hope,’ ‘no care,’ before the throbbing beat that Lulu and Jasper have built up flings the music away into a happy little finish from Stubby, while Charisse fades her sinuous guitar into an up note, off and away.

     “Wow,” Matt breathes, and Marisa wants to cuddle him. She knows just what he means because a warm tickle is running all the way down her. Instead, she examines the back of Nate’s head in an attempt to see what is going on for him.

     Pause for the Cause

     The older Australian-sounding man walks past the table saying, “Goina pause for the cause,” while the tall slouched keyboardist continues on to the stage. Nate and the girls linger and smile, trading jokes with everybody before mounting the platform to do little tasks with the gear. 

     Stubby is at the keyboards wearing clamshell headphones, eyes half closed, fingers running back and forth on the keys. Jasper reappears and gets his bass warmed up with gut-low scales and riffs that are joined by thumps and swishes from Lulu’s drum kit. Charisse turns away from the house and scat sings to her bandmates.

     By Popular Demand

     Lulu bounces on her stool, adjusts her perch. Charisse is at the microphone, “Hey, everybody,” her voice silky, “We just love playing here.” Jasper watches, Stubby waits. “Since we’ve been getting complaints,” she playfully beams a level gaze at a front table, “We’ve decided to step it up...”

     “If we must,” Jasper interjects from the side, and the crowd chuckles and murmurs.

     “....At least for the first song or two,” she promises.

     Lulu poises, ready to strike. Stubby blandly waits. He has three bars before he can jump in. Charisse turns from the crowd to get her guitar ready. 

     “So by popular demand! Or at least by demand,” Jasper’s shout is smoothed by the auto-control PA into a velvety boom, “Here we go!”

     A machine gun blast of snare drum throws everybody back, then the classic start to a famous rock song has the audience leaning forward, bouncing their heads, shoulders, then bodies, to the rhythm everybody knows. Lulu throws in seemingly random bass drum hits that grow to a visceral feeling when she starts in with the signature tom-tom ride. Her snare shoots around the room with sizzling syncopation.

     Charisse, still turned from the crowd, cuts through with the guitar wail everyone knows so well after hearing it ‘thousands’ of times. Jasper’s lively bass takes over to play with Lulu’s wildness and Charisse turns quickly to the front, arms outspread in victorious joy as her notes are still ringing from her now empty low-slung guitar. Stubby has come in and is calmly overtaking with running riffs that harmonize and spar with the transition, then Jasper shoots out bending runs of melodic low beats, each one followed by Charisse’s guitar chops while her syrupy vocals start pouring on.

     Tight short pauses drive home this punchier version of the cover song, and the band drives forward to overwrite the crowd’s memory of the classic hit.

     As they near the coda, her bandmates have a tough time keeping up with Lulu, who floats above her stool, immune to gravity, arms and sticks a blurring pulse of motion that eventually subsides to bass thumps, echoing after the close.

     “Well, that’s all we remember of that one,” Jasper patters while the room’s ears are still ringing. He’s already bouncing his foot in time to the next tune.

     The front tables empty to the dance floor and through the following two songs the band pushes popular rock music past its limit, both edgier and more gleefully smart than the well-run originals.

     “Let’s slow it down a bit now,” Charisse lifts the mic off her stand, undulating with the thought of what she’s about to sing. Lulu turns away from her kit to wipe the drips from her face while keyboard and bass start a soft back-up.

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