Destroy All Monsters~The Last Rock Novel by Jeff Jackson

Author:Jeff Jackson [Jackson, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Music, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780374537661
Amazon: 0374537666
Goodreads: 35481701
Publisher: FSG Originals
Published: 2018-10-16T00:00:00+00:00

Maybe it’ll be a show people will talk about for years.

Maybe I’ll finally be heard.

It’s past time to open the doors. Everyone scurries through the club. The twins make the security team recite their step-by-step instructions. Lisa-Lisa counts out the cash drawers. The band untangles cords while Florian rearranges his equipment one last time. Eddie calls out adjustments to Xenie, who stands tiptoe on a barstool, tightening the corners of the plastic banner behind the stage.

—Two minutes, Lisa-Lisa shouts.

They all huddle together at the bar. A bottle of bourbon is passed around, and they each take a swallow. The shattered remnants of the shot glasses still litter the floor. Their shards give off an intense sparkle.

* * *

Nobody makes a toast, so Florian figures he should hoist the bottle and provide the benediction:

Into the void.

* * *

The parking lot within the razor-wire fence is full. Cars line the streets next to the club, packing the nearby grass lots, pulling into ragged rows on dead lawns. Drivers transfer valuables to the trunk and pray their rides are shitty enough that nobody steals them. This neighborhood is a haven for cheap crack. Or as the twins have it, at night the vampires come out. A mad crush of people funnels into a slow-snaking entrance queue. A number of them carry handmade shrines and memorials for Shaun. In less than an hour, the place will be over capacity. The security guards thoroughly frisk every physique, turning out pockets, patting inseams, tracing the buzzing contours of each body with a magnetic wand.

* * *

The crowd slips their IDs under the black light and presents their right hands to get stamped. They remember the routine, but they’re unusually reserved as they’re herded through the entrance hallway toward the bar. People alternate between nervous pauses and awkward laughter as they line up to order the cheapest cans of beer. Everybody seems conflicted about what tone to adopt, if this show is the somber culmination of the past few months or their cue to shed circumspection. They’re unsure whether they want tonight’s concert to cast off the past or seal them inside it.

* * *

As people step into the performance area, they confront the banner suspended across the back of the stage: a photograph of a bloodied panda lying in a pile of bamboo leaves. It’s the logo of a respected independent music label, sponsor of tonight’s event, but the image still makes people wince. Some say it originated from Chinese dissidents who mutilated the cuddly state symbol to protest censorship. Others say that even as an emblem of extreme free speech, it’s in poor taste. The label is giving away music by Shaun’s band. Stacks of their single rise on tables throughout the room. A hit parade of Shaun’s favorite songs detonates from the speakers and livens up the crowd. A deejay hunches in the narrow space behind the soundboard. Every time he flips a record, the axis of the room shifts ever so slightly.

* * *

Florian sits on the back patio and keeps watch for trouble.

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