Read Online How Evan Broke His Head and Other Secrets by Garth Stein - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Garth Stein
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beautiful girlfriend.“You met Evan?”
“Kind of.”
Evan and Theo shake hands, completing the more formal introduction.
“Evan played guitar for Dog Run, ” Billy says.“Remember them?”
“Should I?”Theo asks.
“One hit wonder, ” the girl says, staring at Evan now. Evan, father of a fourteen-year-old and former lead guitar for a one hit wonder. What would be revealed next?
“They had a top ten single a bunch of years ago, ” Billy explains to Theo. “But their lead singer committed suicide—the guy was a total drug addict—and the album bombed anyway.”
“Cool.” Theo nods, morbidly impressed.
“Evbee’s a great guitarist, Theo, ” Billy says. “You should hear him play.”
“Cool.”Theo smiles.
“You guys should have him sit in, ” Billy’s girl suggests helpfully.
“Yeah?”Theo wonders aloud.
“I always love a good jam, ” the girl confirms.
“Okay, ”Theo agrees. “Our set starts in five.”
He looks expectantly at Evan, and Evan suddenly realizes he means they should play now.
“Now?” Evan asks.
The girl nods at Evan.
“Why not?”Theo replies.
“I don’t have my guitar.”
“I’ve got a guitar for you.”
“In front of an audience?”
“You’re telling me the lead guitarist of Dog Run is afraid of audiences? Come on, man.”
Theo tells his band to start getting ready, and then he leads Evan up to the stage, which is no more than a raised area, two steps above the rest of the room. It was probably where the lending officers originally sat when the venue was still a bank. Theo finds his guitar set up next to two saxophones.
“We’ll just stretch a little, ” he says to Evan.“Don’t sweat it. And then you can sit down and we’ll play the set. It’s cool, man.”
He looks at Evan, who doesn’t appear totally convinced it is cool. Usually, he loves being on stage. In fact, he feels more comfortable in front of an audience than in one. But now, he’s so nervous he’s shaking.
“You got chops?”Theo asks.
Evan nods.
“Then don’t sweat it, man.”
“I play rock, not jazz.”
“You play what you play, man. Play what you feel. I don’t give a shit. Just play it in key and step back when I say step back. Cool?”
“Cool.” Evan nods, still feeling doubtful.
Of all the bands he likes, how many times has he imagined just this situation? How many times has he pictured himself on stage as a guest star? But never with Lucky Strike. He listens to them for pleasure; he doesn’t try to figure them out, doesn’t try to imitate. Sometimes, in music, not imitating is the sincerest form of flattery.
The rest of the musicians assemble. There are seven or eight other guys. A trumpet, a cello, a pedal steel guitar, a bass. So many. How do you communicate with so many players?
Evan introduces himself around. He’s nervous, but strangely clear-headed—strange considering his mental state before getting on stage. There’s no way he would have a seizure on stage. It’s never happened before. And even with some recent seizure instability and the idea that Dean is out in the audience and is about to hear him play, Evan feels totally safe. There is one thing Evan can count on: on stage with a guitar, he is always safe.
“Watch me for the changes, ” the bass player tells him. “Theo will point to you when you’re up, otherwise just play rhythm.”
“Cool.”
Evan tunes the guitar. It’s a Rickenbacker, not Evan’s first choice in guitars. He’s a Fender man through and through, and isn’t used to the sound and feel of a hollow-body. But that’s no excuse. A poor artist blames his tools.
While the musicians fiddle around and warm up, Evan glances out into the audience. Way in the back, standing by the bar, he sees Lars with Dean in tow. Lars is holding his arms out wide in disbelief, shaking his head, shouting something—or mouthing it, Evan can’t hear him—wondering what the hell Evan is doing on stage.
It’s pretty funny and
“Kind of.”
Evan and Theo shake hands, completing the more formal introduction.
“Evan played guitar for Dog Run, ” Billy says.“Remember them?”
“Should I?”Theo asks.
“One hit wonder, ” the girl says, staring at Evan now. Evan, father of a fourteen-year-old and former lead guitar for a one hit wonder. What would be revealed next?
“They had a top ten single a bunch of years ago, ” Billy explains to Theo. “But their lead singer committed suicide—the guy was a total drug addict—and the album bombed anyway.”
“Cool.” Theo nods, morbidly impressed.
“Evbee’s a great guitarist, Theo, ” Billy says. “You should hear him play.”
“Cool.”Theo smiles.
“You guys should have him sit in, ” Billy’s girl suggests helpfully.
“Yeah?”Theo wonders aloud.
“I always love a good jam, ” the girl confirms.
“Okay, ”Theo agrees. “Our set starts in five.”
He looks expectantly at Evan, and Evan suddenly realizes he means they should play now.
“Now?” Evan asks.
The girl nods at Evan.
“Why not?”Theo replies.
“I don’t have my guitar.”
“I’ve got a guitar for you.”
“In front of an audience?”
“You’re telling me the lead guitarist of Dog Run is afraid of audiences? Come on, man.”
Theo tells his band to start getting ready, and then he leads Evan up to the stage, which is no more than a raised area, two steps above the rest of the room. It was probably where the lending officers originally sat when the venue was still a bank. Theo finds his guitar set up next to two saxophones.
“We’ll just stretch a little, ” he says to Evan.“Don’t sweat it. And then you can sit down and we’ll play the set. It’s cool, man.”
He looks at Evan, who doesn’t appear totally convinced it is cool. Usually, he loves being on stage. In fact, he feels more comfortable in front of an audience than in one. But now, he’s so nervous he’s shaking.
“You got chops?”Theo asks.
Evan nods.
“Then don’t sweat it, man.”
“I play rock, not jazz.”
“You play what you play, man. Play what you feel. I don’t give a shit. Just play it in key and step back when I say step back. Cool?”
“Cool.” Evan nods, still feeling doubtful.
Of all the bands he likes, how many times has he imagined just this situation? How many times has he pictured himself on stage as a guest star? But never with Lucky Strike. He listens to them for pleasure; he doesn’t try to figure them out, doesn’t try to imitate. Sometimes, in music, not imitating is the sincerest form of flattery.
The rest of the musicians assemble. There are seven or eight other guys. A trumpet, a cello, a pedal steel guitar, a bass. So many. How do you communicate with so many players?
Evan introduces himself around. He’s nervous, but strangely clear-headed—strange considering his mental state before getting on stage. There’s no way he would have a seizure on stage. It’s never happened before. And even with some recent seizure instability and the idea that Dean is out in the audience and is about to hear him play, Evan feels totally safe. There is one thing Evan can count on: on stage with a guitar, he is always safe.
“Watch me for the changes, ” the bass player tells him. “Theo will point to you when you’re up, otherwise just play rhythm.”
“Cool.”
Evan tunes the guitar. It’s a Rickenbacker, not Evan’s first choice in guitars. He’s a Fender man through and through, and isn’t used to the sound and feel of a hollow-body. But that’s no excuse. A poor artist blames his tools.
While the musicians fiddle around and warm up, Evan glances out into the audience. Way in the back, standing by the bar, he sees Lars with Dean in tow. Lars is holding his arms out wide in disbelief, shaking his head, shouting something—or mouthing it, Evan can’t hear him—wondering what the hell Evan is doing on stage.
It’s pretty funny and
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