She-Rox: A Rock & Roll Novel (9 page)

Read She-Rox: A Rock & Roll Novel Online

Authors: Kelly McGettigan

Tags: #rock music, #bands, #romance, #friendship

“She’s my aunt.”

“Ah, so it’s the gene pool.”

“Yes, some twenty thousand hours of practice had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“There was some new material tonight that I’ve never heard before. It didn’t sound like Gretchen.”

“I wrote the first two songs,” Eddie confessed.

“Um hmm,” he nodded. “Slade informed me that you were quite a musician. Tell me—you a jazz fan?”

“Are you kidding, I worship at the throne of John Coltrane, and channel the spirit of Miles.”

“You like Miles?”

“Love him, especially the stuff he did with Gil Evans.”

“I didn’t think a girl of your age would like that kind of stuff. What do you like from Coltrane?”

“His album ‘Favorite Things,’ with McCoy Tyner—It is perfection.”

“Was it Miles or Coltrane that did Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess?”

“They both did. Miles really got into George Russell’s Lydian Chromatic Concept of Tonal Organization. You know, his Ezz—thetics?”

“His
what
?” Todd questioned.

“Sometimes it’s called LCCTO, to simplify,” Eddie explained.


LCCTO?”

“Yeah, when Miles learned Russell’s art of tonal gravity he demonstrated that in his album, ’Kind of Blue.’”


Oh
, and where else can I find this, um, whatever you call it?”

“Like classical?”

“Very much,” he answered.

“Then give a listen to Beethoven’s String Quartet, number fifteen, in A Minor, the third movement. There’s more in there.”

Todd left the venue and got into his Porsche 911 GT2. He opened his phone and called Slade, getting his voice mail. “Slade, its Todd and I just met your friend, Eddie. I believe I was the black widow’s midnight snack. Talk to you tomorrow.” Flipping his phone shut, Todd wondered, “
What the hell is she doing
in The Katz
?”

Marvin Giles, staff writer for CMM, Critical Mass Magazine, happened to catch the show that Friday night and did a small write up in his column, “What’s Fresh – Who’s Hot.”

 

Friday, Nov. 10, 2006 – Whiskey A Go-Go

 

I missed the experience of hearing Elton John play the Troubadour back in 1970, but The Katz piano number, “In The Confessional,” last Friday night at the Whiskey wasn’t too bad. The rest of the night wasn’t as remarkable, but I’m sure Vince Perini, of Astral Agency, will keep these girls under lock and key until he signs a deal. If you’re ever in the mood for girls with guitars, this is your band.

 

Eddie was shocked to see the write up. She made copies and sent them to Aunt Gia, T.J., and Ben, her brother.

 

 

 

Stanford University, December 2, 2006

 

The dark room was illuminated by the glow of laptop screens as the elite pre-med students were busy click-clacking away.

Dr. Virgil Pratt reminded, “Finals are next week.”

The overhead lights came on and Kai pulled a white envelope out of his pocket—mail from T.J. He pulled out the short article and picture of The Katz. There was a small note from T.J. ‘She’s coming home for Christmas.’

Reading the few lines by Marvin Giles, his mind went racing back to Eddie. He still had her picture as his screensaver, but looking at the photo . . . it wasn’t the same girl. Taking a last look at the hot babes by the Mustang, he crumpled it into a wad, letting it fall on the floor.

 

December 18, 2006

 

The phone rang at 8:30 a.m.

“Hello?”

“Esther, is that you?”

“Aunt Gia?”


Good morning
, my dear – I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I’ve got to get up for school.” Eddie yawned. Her lumpy mattress of a bed was a far cry from the European linens, hot croissants and French
café
she had when traveling with her aunt. “My, my, this isn’t your usual fare. What’s up?”

“What’s
up,
Esther darling? I could ask you the same question.”

“Oh. Is this going to be about Julliard?”

“Was it really going to be that bad?”

“It’s not a question of good or bad
.

“You could have stayed here in New York with me. Cecil always asks about you.”

“Your doorman misses me? Where is this going?”

“What I can’t figure is that you’re doing this whole thing backwards. I thought the whole point of playing all that guitar music was so you
could
end up living in a penthouse suite.”

“I understand the confusion, but Gia, after three months of doing nothing but accompanying brass, woodwind and string quintets and Cecil would look like a party animal.”

“I just got back from Hong Kong, and my assistant handed me your press clipping. Esther . . .
The Katz . . . with your talent . . .
Judas Priest child—”

“Cara, Gia, I’m doing this my way.”

“This picture looks like your trying to sell me a car. It’s not professional at all. Who on earth is representing you?
Astral Agency
. . . never heard of them.”

Eddie sighed.

“This Briarcliff address—I’m sending a car to pick you up on December twenty-second. You will be taken to LAX and flown home for Christmas. I have cleared my entire schedule for the holiday. Ben will be home and I expect you to be there as well, Esther. Don’t disappoint me twice in one phone call.”

“I’ll probably lose my job.”

“Good!

Gia replied, “Let’s worry about that later. There are ways and there are means.”

Eddie went to the kitchen to eat a bowl of cereal before school. There was a notice pinned on the refrigerator, “MANDATORY BAND MEETING @ 6:00 P.M. FRIDAY NIGHT—KAT HOUSE.”

 

Band Meeting

 

Vince stood in the center of the room, notes in hand. “I gotta tell ya, the boards are heating up. After that last write up, the agency wants a new demo, so you’re going back in the studio immediately after the holidays. We have new material so they’ve agreed to the expenditure. Last item, who is going home for the holidays and who is staying here at the house?”

Eddie was the first to speak. “I’ll be in San Francisco.”

“I’ll be in Canada,” said Raven, “but I’m spending New Years here.”

Vince, speaking for G-force, said, “Gretchen and Ginger are going home as well, but, before I turn this meeting over to Daphne, let me just add that since it appears all of you are going home, I beg you
please do
not
bring your mom and dad issues back with you. Leave the drama behind in the Midwest—wherever . . . Okay, then, Daphne
.

Vince sat. Daphne said, “I don’t need to tell you what happens when you go away for the holidays. We’ve decided to do new outfits, so stay in your target weight zone. Do whatever you need to keep it there. Pack your running shoes, walk. Don’t get lazy and sit in front of the TV having mom feed you. There
will
be a weigh in when you get back. Is there anything that needs to be discussed – problems with anything?”

Eddie asked, “Yeah—is anybody else having a problem with their mail? I’m missing letters, checks, stuff like that.”

 

December 22, 2006 San Francisco International Airport

 

A Lincoln Town car picked Eddie up for the airport and within hours, she touched down in San Francisco. Ben, Eddie’s brother, picked her up and while dragging her bag to the car, he said, “You look like Olivia Newton John or something.”

Ignoring the remark, she asked, “How’s everything at the farm?”

“Aunt Gia’s there, so you’re gonna get grilled.”

“Did you get my band write-up I sent you?”

“Yeah, I pinned it up at my desk. Everybody wants to know which one I’m dating. So if this band thing doesn’t work out, I’ve got four guys from Dartmouth who wanna date and one proposal of marriage.”

Pulling into the huge car port at the Von Drake home, Mattie, Eddie’s mother, and Aunt Gia came out of the house to receive the prodigal.

Gia wouldn’t drop the subject of Eddie’s ill-chosen career path. “What’s the big deal? I’m doing a good job and I’ve accomplished a lot,” Eddie defended.

“Yes, you have, and that is what I’m concerned about,” Gia said. “All those hours spent working at some filthy kitchen could be spent practicing.”

“I’m nobody, Gia—just paying my dues like everybody else.”

“Nonsense, we can do better than that.” Gia dialed her cell and waited. “Charles, darling, it’s Gia. I have a niece who is attending school in Los Angeles and is in need of a paid internship with one of the labels down there. Could you be a dear and see what you can do? Cheers.”

“Is that it? You just snap your fingers and mountains move?” Eddie asked.

“When you’ve been in the industry as long as I have, it’s okay to phone in a favor.”

“That was no favor. That was an order.”

“Psssht,” the Prima shrugged.

Eddie made an exit and opening her suitcase she pulled out a pair of black low-slung skinny jeans, gold high heeled sandals and a black t-shirt that hung off the shoulders she had borrowed from Raven.

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