Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
It all happened so fast.
By mid-July, limos were lining the block outside Monks and just as I’d predicted, all the A&R guys were wooing Gabriel, trying to entice him to sign to their label.
By the end of the month, it went to a bidding war, but Gabriel still hadn’t decided which direction he wanted to go in.
Finally, Sean got fed up.
“Do me a favor, Slick,” he said as soon as we walked into Monks with our entourage in tow. “Sign one of these goddamn contracts so we can get those limos out of here. This is the Lower East Side, not Hollywood.”
I elbowed Gabriel. “Yeah, Slick. Make a decision.”
“If you need a guitarist in the studio,” Devin said. “I’m available.”
“Looks like I got to NYC just in time,” Eddie said, pretending to hit a cymbal with a non-existent drumstick.
Eddie arrived last week and was currently crashing on our couch. All six feet of him, cocky grin and long, brown hair included. His drum kit sat right in the middle of the living room, and I kept tripping over it whenever I had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.
“My dude’s gonna hit the big time,” he said, wrapping his arm around the girl he’d brought along.
They met at a bar last night and he kept getting her name wrong, so I still wasn’t sure if it was Hannah or Henna or Helena, and at this point, I was too embarrassed to ask.
“You already know I’m a kickass drummer,” he told Gabriel.
“You’re gonna need a manager too,” Sean said. “I know a good guy.”
Gabriel shook his head and walked right up to the bar. “Hey, Karen, can I get some wine?”
Gabriel just wanted it to be another Monday night of improv. Monks was like his second home, his sacred space, and he was here to play music.
But we all knew it was only a matter of time before he sat down at the table and signed a contract.
He’d talked it over with my mom who encouraged him to think about the big picture and go with the record label that supports their artists and will cultivate his career.
“And don’t sign anything without a lawyer,” she’d cautioned.
“An entertainment lawyer who specializes in artist representation.”
That night he played for three hours straight. Sweat was dripping down his face. He took off his T-shirt, wiped his face on it, and tossed it onto the floor.
Gabriel continued playing but a screaming girl snatched up the T-shirt and waved it around like a flag.
A rock star was born.
“Next thing you know, he’ll be getting his nipple pierced,” I said, stealing Eddie’s cigarette and taking a drag. He waved it away when I tried to give it back and lit another one for himself.
“I’ve known Gabriel a long time,” Eddie said. “He’s not gonna change. He’s just not that kind of guy.”
“What was he like in high school?” I asked.
“Same as he is now,” Eddie said. “He thought he was a misfit. He used to be more awkward. Or should I say clueless. He could never understand why girls wanted to be around him. Gabriel never thought he was good-looking. I told him he’s an idiot. But he really believed that.”
“He’s ridiculous,” I said, in the most loving way.
Eddie held up his hands like, what can I say?
“When we were out in LA…we were a bunch of metalheads back then…but Gabriel wasn’t the lead singer in our band.
He wasn’t as extroverted as Scott, so he just stood in the back and played guitar.
One night we’re playing at this seedy club and Scott had too much to drink.
He’s just up there butchering the music.
Gabriel couldn’t take it anymore, so he steps up to the mic and starts singing.
Nothing like the music we were doing. I think he did a Bad Brains cover but Gabriel style.
So he’s just up there doing his own thing, with this voice that just blew us all away, and everyone fell in love with him.
“It caused a huge rift. Scott got pissed off, accused Gabriel of stealing the limelight, and after that, they couldn’t even be in the same room together.
Things got so tense that eventually, Gabriel quit the band and went out on his own.
But he’s got that thing that draws people in. A magnetic personality, I guess.”
“The first time I met him,” Devin said. “He was like, hey, man, we need to hang out and work on some music , so we went back to his place. It was just a mattress on the floor and all these incense burners, and I was like, dude, you live like a Buddhist monk. We got high and jammed for hours. Then he got all deep and shit, started talking about the meaning of life and all this spiritual stuff. It was cool. I don’t have any guy friends who talk about that shit so openly. ”
“He’s big on feeeeelings,” Eddie said.
We all laughed.
When Gabriel finished his set, he walked over to a man in a suit and shook his hand. He’d made his decision. He was going for a major record label. Not the highest bidder but the one that had promised him full creative control.
The following week, Gabriel came home with a big, fat contract in his hand. He looked scared, but excited too.
Three albums. One million dollars.
It sounded like a lot of money until Gabriel explained that the advance was ten percent of that, and it was basically a loan that had to be repaid from future royalties.
When he got the check, he deposited the money in his account and said he wasn’t going to touch it.
Gabriel didn’t care about the money. He wanted to make a perfect album and he wanted to surround himself with people he could trust.
There was only one person he trusted to be his manager. Sean. He knew the music industry and had managed bands in the past, so after some cajoling, Sean agreed.
Then he recruited a backing band. Even though he was signed as a solo artist, he wanted to go into the studio and on tour with a band so he, Devin, and Eddie auditioned bassists and chose Tyler, the calm to their chaos.
Tyler didn’t talk much but Gabriel said he had a strong intuition and was able to adapt quickly to changes. Which was essential. Gabriel was constantly changing up the lyrics and melodies.
When they went into the studio to record the album, Gabriel worked eighteen-hour days and drove everyone nuts with his perfectionism.
But in the end, the album was very nearly perfect.