When the Music's Over by Aidan Thorn

When the Music's Over by Aidan Thorn

Author:Aidan Thorn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime, murder, drugs, british, noir, hardboiled, gangsters, birmingham, brit grit
Publisher: Number Thirteen Press


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Summer, 1993

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BENNY GOWER PUT HIS FENDER JAZZ in its carry case and made his way to the car. He had a four-hour slot booked at the rehearsal space. Forty-five minutes to collect his band mates. He’d made this his routine before every practise. It was the only way to ensure they all made it. He’d had enough of being the only person in the rehearsal room day after day. Waiting for others that seldom turned up. Rehearsals were changed from early evening slots to mid-morning slots. This generally meant, but didn’t guarantee, Benny would know where to find his band mates and that they would be sober.

Picking them all up and getting to the rehearsal space was less than a fifteen-minute journey. Benny left himself an extra half an hour for problems. Would they all be where they should be? How much resistance would he have to put up with due to the early start? Would last night’s partying have finished yet? Benny knew how to have a good time, but he was driven by the desire to succeed. The rest of his band were driven by something else.

This was a good day. Benny had collected the rest of the band and they were at the rehearsal space by 10:42. Just over ten minutes late. All of the bands equipment was kept in a lock-up. Benny arranged this after guitarist Gerry Andrews paid for drugs with his only acoustic guitar. After that the band decided, under Benny’s direction, it was best all equipment not be readily accessible to them. Benny became the key holder for the lock-up. He had made various trips earlier that morning to transport the equipment to the rehearsal space.

Rehearsals always began with an acoustic warm-up. Heads were sore and Lance Fredriks’ throat often took a lot of warming up. The room a fog of cigarette smoke – there was very little conversation. They had slipped into a familiar routine. Lance would strum the first few chords of a song he’d feel comfortable singing. The rest of the band would join in.

After the band plodded their way through three acoustic songs Lance stood and placed his acoustic against a wall. He picked up his Telecaster and jacked it into his amp. This was the signal to the rest of the band that the rehearsal could begin. Still a spoken word hadn’t been used. Benny thumped out the bass line to Come Down, the first song they’d written together, the first time they felt like a band. A song that mocked the massive egos they had seen on display in the music scene prior to their arrival on it. There was more than a hint of irony that this group of individuals had taken on the role of rock cliché before they were even successful. The band joined in with Benny’s rhythmic bass line. As was always the case when they played together Benny remembered why he put himself through so much to keep this band together. Whilst the others used chemicals for their highs, this sound was his.



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