5. Kay #2
After spending too much time digging up lyrics and pieces of lyrics from old notebooks the night before, I went into the studio early to get a jump on things.
There was a little fragment about fast cars that needed to be reworked, and if we laid down some riffs, it might inspire me to come up with more words.
Before grabbing my ax, I needed more coffee.
The breakroom was quiet, but Dave stood in front of the coffee maker, watching it brew.
“What are you doing, man?” I pulled out one of the big white mugs the guys kept around from the cupboard.
“Need coffee. It’s not fast enough.”
“Haven’t you heard the watched pot scenario? Same thing here, dude.” I dumped sugar into my empty mug. When he didn’t move, I changed the subject. “I think I have another song for us.”
“Cool. Coffee first.” He waved me off.
I leaned against the counter beside him with my arms crossed over my chest, and thankfully, the coffee finished brewing enough for Dave. He poured a cup for himself, then poured the heavenly brew into mine. It smelled rich like caramel and nuts. “Yum.” I took the first sip. “This is good.”
After a few sips, Dave’s eyes actually looked more focused. “It’s an amazing blend I found when we were in Cally. It’s from some small town called Foggy Basin. Fucking great blend. Now I’m ordering it from their website.”
“Nice. I’ll pay you to order me some too.”
“Deal.”
We hadn’t finished our first cups when Wolf, Harrison, Jinx, and Miami walked in. Jinx immediately jumped on the coffee bandwagon. “That smells incredible.”
I handed him a mug and Dave poured. Harrison and Wolf had some as well, but then the pot was nearly empty, so Dave set it to brew another. “Might want to think about getting a second coffee maker in here or something.”
“Eh.” Miami put a kettle on the small cooktop they’d installed so he always had tea available without using the microwave, but a second coffee maker was out?
“Maybe we should bring one, Dave?” I asked. He nodded. It might not be our building, but we were here as much as Midnight Hunt these days.
“So…” Jinx said between sips. “Before we get started recording, we want to talk about some things.”
“Does this have to do with Pierce?” Dave rubbed his eyes, obviously needing another cup.
“Yes, but that’s only part of it. But let’s wait until everyone else gets here.” Jinx put his mug in the sink and rinsed it.
Within the next twenty minutes, the rest of Bramble Punk started arriving.
Apparently, I hadn’t arrived early enough to actually get anything done.
But that only meant I’d implore the guys to help out with the song.
I liked collaborations better anyway. Soon enough, we were all assembled with the exception of Pierce.
Wolf moved us into the conference room, and that meant this was all about business.
We found seats and waited. Jinx stood at the head of the table.
“First, Pierce. He’s agreed to join the band if you still want him.
We need that ironed out before we record anything else.
” We all agreed we wanted him, but that wasn’t the end of it.
“Second, you need contracts. This is to protect you guys as much as Pierce. Trust me on this. I have Harrison and Donavan working on that now.”
Don hadn’t told me anything about it. I had to assume he found out this morning. This was the type of thing that could be a conflict of interest, but I’d let them figure that out. “That makes sense.”
“Prior contracts were for you guys, minus Kay, for studio time and the first tour. Kay had separate contracts for all that. It’s time to amend it, though.
This is a solid band now, and you’re going to be headlining soon.
This is most likely your last tour opening for us.
That also means you need a manager. A team. ”
I scratched my head. “Thought we had a team.” I nodded to him and Wolf. The rest of the Bramble guys made noises of affirmation. We didn’t want to work with anyone else.
“We’ve been thinking about that,” Miami said, tapping the table with his fingers.
“We’re about to tell you something that doesn’t leave this room.
” He pointed around the room, and when we all agreed, he nodded as if assuring himself that we were trustworthy.
“This is probably Midnight Hunt’s last tour.
We might do shows here and there and record, willy nilly, but this isn’t our future. ”
I stood, knocking my chair behind me. “What? How?” We’d all expected this to happen eventually. Our moving up was inevitable but hearing it all now was a reality check. No more Midnight Hunt? I wasn’t ready for that—not that my opinion mattered.
“Settle down, Kay. Guys.” Wolf patted the air, encouraging us to calm. “Like it or not, we’re getting fucking old, and touring is becoming a chore. As much as we like to perform, we think it’s time to move on. We’re going out on completely different terms this time, and this involves you.”
“Us?” Joe asked, looking very uncertain. Well, I was confused too.
“Yes,” Miami said. “You need a manager.”
Jinx jumped in, “We want that to be us. We’re making a management company. Kind of like Mastersons.”
The light bulbs went on. They wanted to manage us, produce us, all of it. “I’m in.” I turned to look at the guys. They seemed happy, but I needed to be sure. “If you all are? Joe? Dave?”
But it was Randy who answered. “I, for one, love it. Ziggy has been a great mentor, and the back brace. I mean, come on, who does that? You’re the best. You’ve already done so much for us.
Hell, we weren’t even a band until Jinx stuck us together.
My loyalty is here.” He touched his index finger to the tabletop. Everyone agreed.
“Great.” Jinx looked at each of us. “I’ll get a proposal set up along with contracts. Remember, Harrison’s team doesn’t represent you; they represent us. You may want to get a lawyer to review all the paperwork before signing.”
I was going to trust Don. The other guys could do what they wanted.
Wolf clapped his hands. “Great. And now that you have agreed to Pierce joining. We’ll work out the details. He’ll be here in about ten minutes, so let’s get busy.”
As we walked out the door, Joe barked a laugh. “You should call your company the Miami Sound Machine.” A few of us laughed at that, but Miami scowled, of course.
Jinx clapped him on the shoulder. “Not a bad name, but I think MH Management will do.”
Miami flipped Joe off, but then he smiled.
He had a good sense of humor when he wasn’t being full of himself, and Jinx had a way of keeping him down to earth.
I genuinely liked all these guys. Hopefully, Pierce would fit in, too.
But I was willing to force that peg into the square hole if it meant stepping out of that front spot.
While we waited, Joe and I worked on the song I had, scratching out a few more lyrics and a riff. It was a good start.
Fast cars, wet dreams Nothing is as it seems Alcohol -- pour on the fuel Blind destruction -- that’s the rule
“Feels like the chorus. It’s catchy and quick.” Joe picked out the riff again.
“Agreed.”
Then Pierce burst into the room and the laid-back dynamic changed. “What’s up, losers!”
“Ahh…fuck off.” Joe gave him the bird to go along with that.
Pierce cackled. “I have a song for us.” He dropped a notebook on top of mine between us.
I barely made out the words; they were long and rambling, something that seemed a little political, maybe.
A part of it said, control, citizens, election, vote , and maybe that was down or clown ?
But at about three-quarters of the page, there was a more spaced-out stanza that read better.
You’re keeping us down boot on the throat Kicked around your scapegoat What will it take to stand up to say no—no more What are we fighting for No more
“I like this bit.” I tapped the page.
“That’s the chorus.”
Joe turned the page and angled it to get a better view. “Can’t make out most of this stuff.”
“So what? I know what it says. Let’s practice it.” He grabbed the book and trotted off. “Come on, guys.”
Pierce grabbed an old acoustic guitar that was hanging on the wall in the back of the sound room and started tuning. “Can I play this one?” he asked anyone who might be listening.
Wolf’s voice came over the speaker. “Sure, man. Do your thing.”
Then Pierce played a bit and sang. The words were complicated, and he kept stopping and backing up to get them right. That wasn’t unusual, but I wasn’t loving it.
“Seems political, do we want to go that way?”
Pierce huffed, “Thought I’d have open minds here to work with. Wolf said I should bring my stuff.”
“Sure. We want to see this, but we all have input. You have input in what we bring too. I’ll show you what I have after we talk about this one.” I hoped he’d get with the process. I did want his take on things, but I also wanted him to be open to our opinions. “What’re you calling it?”
“ Scapegoat .”
“Alright. Go through the first verse again.” I strapped my Gibson over my head and watched his fingers, listening to his riff, rather than the words. It didn’t take long to pick it up, since I’d learned to play by ear in the first place.
Joe was nodding his head but then stopped us. “Wait. Wait. This is a little disjointed. Can we maybe streamline some of the lyrics?”
Pierce looked at his book again and bit his lower lip. “Well, it’s not like you have to sing it.”
“Not the point,” Dave threw in.
“Huh. I’m new and all but—”
“Pierce, man, it has nothing to do with that. We all want to put out the best music. That’s all,” I reassured him. I didn’t want him walking before we had contracts signed, but I wanted to curb the attitude.
“One more time. From the top.”
I exhaled loudly but played along.
You came trying to seize control but you can’t rule rock and roll If you don’t want a citizen protest clown around dick down You stole the vote and tanked the election political drop Portray me with a black heart
“That is a lot.” Joe scowled. “I don’t like the politics of it. Not that I agree or disagree, but I don’t think we should go there.”
“Adding controversy isn’t bad,” Pierce defended his position.
Wolf’s voice came over the speaker. “I don’t get it. You should maybe work on it more, make it concise—”
Pierce stood and put the guitar on the floor. “Well, it ain’t a party anthem.”
“That’s for sure,” Joe snarked.
Pierce turned and glared at him. “It doesn’t have to be. We’re not Midnight Hunt. No offense.” He turned back to the glass, and Wolf held up his hand as if to say he wasn’t mad about the comment. “We can add substance.”
“Agreed. We have a different style, and we’re evolving.” I ripped through his melody. “More now. But we have to trim this. Maybe cut the more political aspects. A compromise on this one won’t hurt.”
Pierce sighed. “Fine. I’ll work on the lyrics.”
“Let’s hit the chorus real quick,” I suggested, and Pierce nodded, picking up the guitar again.
You’re keeping us down boot on the throat Kicked around your scapegoat What will it take to stand up to say no—no more What are we fighting for No more
Wolf chimed in. “That I like.”
Pierce smiled, showing a little of the charisma I knew he had. “Thanks.”
“Let’s see the other one. Didn’t you say you had something?” Randy asked.
I picked up the notebook and handed it around. “It’s not ready to record either. A few notes and scratches, but Joe and I hammered out a riff.”
“Let’s do it.” Joe slid his fingers up the neck of his guitar, making it screech. Then we played the bit we’d worked out, after we sang the chorus, I kept going with what I felt for the next part.
I wanna be brilliant I wanna be hot Off the charts Living in my wet dreams
“Oh, fuck yeah.” Pierce jumped up and grabbed the notebook. “How about, Pouring gin on my dreams. Vodka misery. Like this…” He sang it and added one more line. “What do I do without you?”
“That rocks,” Wolf said, giving us the thumbs up.
Pierce smiled. “I see how we can all put something in. This is a fun one. Let’s keep going.”
By the end of the session, we had Alcohol and Cars written, practiced, and recorded. Better yet, Pierce promised to trim his song and come back with it in a day or two. Keeping him in the right mindset for recording was key. When he was there, we rocked. We were going to put out a killer new album.