AT 29 (65 page)

Midway through the set he brought Nigel into the mix, introducing the newcomer as a fresh talent from ‘down under'. He took a few moments to describe the two songs Whitehurst would sing, making sure the audience understood this was a special debut. Nigel's approach to the microphone was greeted warmly.

If Jimmy's introduction had any beneficial affect it was not evident in the listless, flat tone of the Australian's performance. He produced none of the power and range that his talented voice possessed. Neither Jimmy nor Sonny could tell if it was nerves or just a bad night. Jimmy stepped in when he recognized that his protégé was faltering. He blended his voice with Nigel's and gave a signal to Sonny and Ted to address their microphones as well. In the end, only Sonny's strong play, combined with the harmony of four voices vibrating through the huge speakers, prevented Nigel from falling on his face. Polite applause trailed off quickly as Nigel retreated from the stage. The next day's review in the Bates College newspaper carried only a one-sentence mention of the new singer. The following night's performance in Orono was no better. The newspapers there failed to mention him at all.

Apart from Nigel, everyone was excited on the run back to Millburn. Miles telephoned Ellis with the sales results. All three albums had made it into the Billboard Top 100, albeit, only at the low margins. After only a week in the stores and with airplay across the country, the only way to go was up. Mike Winfield was having a field day each morning, inviting his listeners to call in with requests and comments. Most callers requested cuts from
Back and Blue. Peg
was the most requested by far. Late at night, all three albums were played on WAGZ-FM without commercial break. The overnight Arbitron tallies ticked up.

Nevertheless, it was a somber trip to New Jersey for Nigel. He took the same backseat, staring at the passing countryside, apart from the boisterous talk all around. Chase and Benson had the seat across the aisle and chatted non-stop for several hours before finally taking an interest in the new guy. Chase whispered something to Benson who laughed loud. Then the roadie brought out a joint.

“They do these where you're from?” he taunted, waving the unlit cannabis in Nigel's direction. Whitehurst's eyes lit up and he slid over in his seat to examine the one thing he missed most since his departure from home.

“That's a spliff where I come from, mate, magic green.”

Chase nudged Benson as they both chuckled. “All right then. This, what do you call it, magic green? It's for you, on the house.” He nudged Benson again then put the joint in Nigel's hand. “We'll have a party when we get back, just the three of us. Maybe you'd like to sign up for a steady supply.” The three continued to talk for the remainder of the trip.

Up front, Ellis had Jimmy's ear. “We should stretch things out on the next leg.” He studied Jimmy's face for a reaction. “Nine more schools are nice, but we've got all those nights in between. Like now, we're just riding a bus back to Millburn to wait for the next gig. Waste of time and money.”

“What's do you have in mind?” Jimmy knew his agent smelled an opportunity.

“I can line up some clubs, smaller boutique concerts. You go into them alone. I'll get the Brits their own gigs, too. Everybody comes back on the weekends to do the colleges under the Blossom Presents format like we just did in Maine.” Jimmy waited for more. “You're going gold. We have now ‘til Christmas, that's ten weeks to make a splash. The way I see it, we do a college each weekend, three or four clubs during the week. We stay on the road, then if we're as big as I think we're going to be, we end with something special in New York.”

Jimmy warmed to his agent's proposal. It's not that the groups needed the work. Apart from Nigel's flat performance, everyone was peaking, even Eugene who seemed to have found his place standing alongside Sonny and Jimmy. They only needed more exposure. The opportunity to push the albums by playing live audiences as often as possible was there for the taking. The bigger gigs were good for the label's reputation. The smaller ones would bring each band a following. In the long run that would be the best formula for everyone.

“What about Nigel?”

“He's not ready.”

Jimmy nodded. “I thought he could do it.”

“He needs to figure it out. You don't have the time.”

“We all heard him in the studio. He knows the songs and he sang them well.”

“Stage fright?”

“Maybe. He said he missed his fiddle.”

Back in the apartment Jimmy admitted it was wrong to cut the instrumental.

“Wouldn't have mattered, mate.”

“Too many people watching?”

“I kicked the footy in front of fifty thousand.”

“So what then?”

“I'll handle it.”

“We can work on some things until I head south.”

“No, mate. I'm moving into Millburn tomorrow.”

“You'll need some session players. I'll see what…”

“No worries. Chase knows some guys.”

Jimmy didn't like the idea. What did Chase know about putting an album together? “You don't want my help?”

“Nothing personal, mate. It's about me, not you.”

Jimmy couldn't know the fierce independence that burned within the Australian. The same stubborn loner Sister Marie had been dealing with since Nigel first appeared at the orphanage. All he knew was the singer was spurning him. My brother's keeper, Whitehurst didn't want his help.

McCabe huddled with Ellis, reworking the schedule and making calls all through the day. Some of the smaller venues needed to be finalized, but the buses would stay on the road. The tenth week would be back in New York in a prestigious Manhattan setting. He'd get to work on that as soon as he was sure the tour was going well.

Jimmy's attitude surprised McCabe. His enthusiasm for bringing Nigel on the tour was gone. Ellis did most of the talking as the decision to leave him in the studio was debated. Miles was astute enough to realize that if these two men thought it was best then it was the right course to take. He had enough on his plate with the three rising bands. MacGregor needed some marketing. Let the Australian find his way. Cindy could keep an eye on his progress until she headed to California.

Jimmy helped Nigel move his things into one of the small bungalows in Millburn. He spent a few hours showing the Australian the studio controls. They spent most of the time retooling the three songs. Later, they worked with the other eight compositions. These were bare melodies, leaving Whitehurst with many hours of work ahead.

“The most important part comes up front,” Jimmy warned. “The opening chords have to grab the listener's attention, but the rest of the song better deliver. People don't like to be teased. A catchy hook requires an equally strong follow. That's where your voice comes in. Make sure you use your range.”

Nigel said little, but he paid close attention. Toward the end of the tutorial he pulled out his violin and they went into studio B. Jimmy ran through a few chords on the Gibson while Nigel followed. Then Whitehurst launched into the instrumental that caught Jimmy's attention that first night at Willie's.

“Where did you get that song?”

“Like it?” Nigel asked, grinning for the first time that day.

“Yes, it's very unique.”

“It's a choir song. I heard it passing by a church in Apollo Bay.”

“You stole it?”

“You could say that. Sounds much better on the fiddle.”

“Who wrote it?”

“I don't know.”

“You ought to find out. Maybe there's more.”

“Another time, mate. I've got your gems to finish.”

When there was money to be made Ellis was tireless. He and Miles put together an exhausting schedule of club dates and boutique concerts sandwiched round the weekend college shows. Most of the gigs would be played in front of small crowds,
numbering no more than a few hundred in each of the college towns that Blossom Presents visited. Only the later dates were announced, but word got around fast. As the albums climbed the charts fans lined up for tickets. Rebellion and Weak Knees alternated nights so Melinda and Eugene could be available to back Jimmy when he performed. He drew enthusiastic sellouts everywhere he appeared. Concerts in New Jersey, Delaware and Virginia solidified
Back and Blue
as a hit. By the fourth week, just as the gaudy buses pulled into Durham, North Carolina,
Back and Blue
cracked the Top 50 and
Peg
reached #26 on the singles charts. Miles tallied the sales for his weekly call with Myra. He also had another revenue stream to show her, the take from the tour. Between album and ticket sales, Blossom Records hit year to date revenues of four million for the first time ever.

***

Alice arrived for the Chapel Hill concert just as the doors opened to admit three thousand enthusiastic fans. Ellis ushered her backstage to the dressing room. She was in demand, fresh from an on-air interview with Mike Winfield that positioned her as the foremost expert on Blossom's rising stars. Her assignment this time was to critique the show's live performance. She was giddy with her new found prominence, but it did not interfere with the concentration she applied to her work. She was a writer first, groupie second. This time she was keen to meet the Brits. She knew their albums, having listened to each one dozens of times and taking notes on each song. As much as she enjoyed Jimmy's blues, she liked the heavy rock of these groups even more. Primitive beats combined with piercing guitar riffs and shrieking vocals that got her juices flowing. She shook hands with everyone, spending extra time with Benson, an old friend with whom she'd shared bed, booze and more a few times in the past. He was unabashed in his delight, bringing her to meet Chase who was putting the finishing touches on the equipment setup. The three fell into deep conversation.

Rebellion led off with its signature song. Kate stood at the microphone, half naked in a short black skirt and tight fitting halter-top. Her patent leather stiletto heels lifted her six inches above her normal height. She wasn't bad looking, Alice decided, and her guttural voice knocked the hell out of the speakers. By the third song the youthful crowd was into it. Alice surveyed the arena. The pit was full of screamers, arms raised and swaying as the beat pulsated. A second level circled the floor, which primarily served as the home for UNC's perennially top ranked basketball team. Although the Carmichael Arena could hold ten thousand, there was little empty space except far to the rear.

Weak Knees took a different tack, opening with a soft melody sung to a slow tempo on the keyboards. Alice sat back in her chair, just offstage. She began to take notes, starting with the position of each player, proceeding to their style of dress, the way they held their instrument and how they engaged the audience. She jotted down reminders for herself, making quick judgments about vocal strength, harmony and quality of play. Each song received a letter grade and each band member was rated on a scale of one to ten. The marks were all good. Then she turned her attention to the audience. No one was sitting any longer. The lights were low, except for the bright footers that spotlighted each section of the stage. Wisps of smoke danced in the lights, driven by freshly lit joints. Soon, the sweet smell would make its way upward, enveloping the fans in the second level above. She smiled, putting her pen down for a moment to take it all
in. She loved rock concerts, uninhibited displays of irreverence that encouraged the wildness in her.

A chorus of shrieks greeted Jimmy when he walked out, guitar hung over his back. The rest of the band followed unhurried, pretending to be unaffected by the acclaim. That is, except Benson who waved his arms, beaming and bowing before he took his position behind the drums. He liked the attention. Alice cued her photographer, making sure he snapped as many pictures as possible. A few shouts of Sonny came up from the pit. His guitar was a key feature on
Back and Blue
. Those in the know, like Alice, recognized his talent. She penned another reminder for her article.

Jimmy was mindful of Alice's presence. He knew she went for up-tempo rock. He was in the mood for something more raucous, too. It was one of those nights when the urge to jam overtook his senses. The crowd was ready. Kate had brought them out of their seats early and they continued to stand waiting. He went over to Benson and told him what he wanted. The drummer nodded, rising in his seat to watch Jimmy as he told the others. Sonny and Ted held the keys. Jimmy brought them together and whispered instructions. What followed was a masterpiece of hard soulful rock that ignited the arena in a pounding frenzy of sixteen jam filled songs. Sonny and Ted each took center stage during many of the songs, delivering lengthy solos backed only by Benson on the drums. The intent was simple enough, just music played long and loud, but the impact was much more. Ted's hitherto disciplined support of Jimmy's creations was unshackled, permitting the vast power of his skill on the harmonica to finally find its way into the hearts and souls of his listeners. Alice sat forward in her chair, straining to hear every note and wondering where this talent had been hiding. Sonny unleashed a repertoire of impromptu electricity that flew across his strings and into the air like fire. He lingered on single notes, drawing out the sound endlessly only to run his fingers back and forth over the frets with lightning speed as fresh chords burst through the sound system in perfect harmony with the solos that came before. Jimmy accompanied Melinda, then Eugene as each was encouraged to freestyle.

But it was Jim Buckman who anchored the show with his vocal renditions of every song on
Back and Blue
plus four more unreleased creations long buried by Daisy Overton. It was two sets of glorious sound that was both intimate and profound. Anyone not fond of jams, anyone expecting a simple live play of
Back and Blue
, and all those who didn't realize how spectacular a rock concert could be got a lesson, one that remained for days thereafter as the scene was replayed in their minds.