Thank You for Coming

People take great strides to avoid hauntings, both from the living and the dead, but if not careful we become the ghosts worth hiding from. Parked on a gravel driveway, I click a lighter and take a last drag off a hybrid pre-roll, singeing my insides down into my lungs in a way that stings just right as the air escapes. I can’t actually predict the outcome of my visit to this rural country. The stories we tell ourselves in the beginning often end up in foreign lands after unexpected turns. Joe used to say that show people look for surprises in all situations.

I’m paying a visit to my old friend, a man I haven’t seen in over six years since we worked together on the last tour. We met for the first time well over a decade ago while I was working the merch table and he was a guitar tech. We were younger then and both played those roles well. 

Yellow hills outside the car windows catch a setting sun as I take a last hot inhale. The smolder of smoke will follow me inside, absorbed by my cuticles and hair. It's an old fashioned choice, but the smell is calming and nostalgic, necessary to conjure courage for what needs to be done. 

Closing the heavy door to an upgraded rented vehicle, my boots steady up the walk towards the cabin. I’m wearing baggy charcoal pants and a grey sweater. My hair is slightly tangled as I survey the scene. Pollen swiftly blows past. Grass hasn’t been planted yet, only pavers surrounded by sand. An early 2000’s Detroit pickup with a cracked windshield is parked in the driveway. Lamplight glows inside the one-story home. I don’t know who dwells within, but I’m hoping for only one person.

He answers after I knock twice, and I actually gasp to see his eyes again. He doesn’t look as surprised to see me as I expect; I did message ahead. His brows remain a little heavy as he nods and leans in for a hug. “Rosie.” His round stomach presses against mine, warm and hard, like I remember. I long to see him barefoot in my kitchen. 

“Joe.”

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A Producer's voice is faint off screen as the lens focuses on Joe sitting in a plain white room for an interview.

JOE

What was that like? When she showed up at my door … after six years no contact? … It was strange. In an instant I reverted back to a lighter, wilder version of myself, but I was also a heavier, more anxious old man… So… Show people are always looking for surprises. [Pauses] You need to understand, the band had broken up. We were done. All of it ended messy, in a Ken Kesey, Mick Fleetwood kind of way. They gained traction on the edge of success, but it didn’t crest. We didn’t see it coming. The end wasn’t part of the beginning. I mean, maybe it can’t ever be, but obviously, it always should have been considered in some way. But the abruptness of it all was unexpected. Can you just put the cat back in the bag? I don’t think so. After the shutdown, most of us assimilated to the real world. We had to let go. I let go and then half a decade later… she was there.

🎸

Joe lets me in. I drop my stare, genuinely humbled by the weight of memories we share. Toddler and dog toys are spread around the living room corners, a dining table lit through the foyer. Crucifixes and family portraits adorn the walls. I don’t see a musical instrument anywhere. He leads me through as his partner, Madison, stands at the corner of the hall, edges of her mouth tight. “Rosie, you know Madi.” Joe points me towards a chair.

I square up, facing Madison while she presses out her hand. There’s no malice in her demeanor, only trepidation. She’s as nervous as I am. A young mother. Her son is not Joe’s biological child, but Joe is most likely excellent with them both. 

My voice almost shakes, “I appreciate the two of you seeing me. I won’t stay long. I’m hoping to discuss a proposition with you both, if I could?” As I sit they join me around the table. “Good to see you again... I never expected to be here, not like this, but… I’m not upset about it.” My smile is shaking, I can feel it. “A convergence of events has presented an opportunity. Timeline’s second album is trending overseas. It’s a decade old, but two songs were featured in a fan fiction series on BBC, and one went viral on reels so there’s been a resurgence in Europe and the UK.” 

Madison doesn’t grin, not even a little. Joe’s eyes appear relatively surprised, but his features remain stoic. 

I play on their silence. “It’s a six week in Europe, eight in the UK and Netherlands. Possibly a day or two in Japan and Iceland respectively. Then back home.”

“He can’t… “ 

Joe stares at the tabletop, his demeanor dull, but sparkles are building behind his eyelids while his brain calibrates possibilities, unmistakable. “Which songs?”

“Totality. And Granite Falls. But they re-released the whole second album and sales are strong in certain pockets. Younger audiences think they’re up and coming.” I address Madison. “Head of security. Fifteen thousand in your account upfront, ten more on the back if we can secure a full 3 months at capacity. The network is convinced they can fill arenas eventually, opening at first, but hopefully co-headlining as we go. They offered studio time once we get back, they want them to write and workshop on the road. If the venues get bigger, everyone profits. It’s a shot… one I never expected to see again.”

Joe runs his hands through his hair, “… Everyone loves a comeback story until they don’t. The band agreed? Brando agreed? And a Label authorized that much? I have a hard time believing it all just came back together. That they’ll be able to write anything new…The magic’s gone.”

I swallow. “… Not everyone yet, but half have expressed interest. Maybe once they see the potential, it could be a launch to something better. Better than we left off. The label provides vans, street-teams, PR, distribution. We try to make it back in merch and meet-greets, interviews and appearances.

“Whose financing salaries? No one’s doing this for free anymore.”

“I am… Jai and I are financing.

Madison appears horrified as Joe raises his stare, “How’d you manage that one, Pip?” His crooked teeth peek from behind his fat lips and shaggy beard, and I know that smile. I fucking love that smile. And in that moment, it’s only my smile, which is why Madison looks horrified.

I feel exhilarated and nauseous in the same breath; playing with fire, entering their home at dusk to seek a union in risk. “We came into a sum of inheritance and this opportunity presented itself. Divine timing. A test to keep failing? I don’t know, but hopefully we can break even. That’s the point, right? No one will know the funding is coming from inside the house. I don’t want anyone to know. I’ll be an employee of the security team, both tours under you.”

“Rude Sisters… Jai’s been doing what for five years? Who’s driving and managing?”

“Betriebsleiterin.” I shrug, “They’re bringing in new transport and management, translation help. Jai’s ready. She’s never not been. Everybody’s still up in Ballard, Belltown, except Brando’s in Alaska. I’m the one who's out of practice. Had a breakdown after Brand… and I’d prefer a low profile. It would be transferred directly to your account, the money upfront. You’d be on contract for these two runs only. You can be involved as little or as much as you want. I’m working hard to find the right team, a small family, and with you onboard, at this level, we could build it together.”

Madison’s voice crackles a few octaves higher, “We need to talk about this privately. I don’t feel comfortable. There’s the harvest coming up. We’re building a life here, I have a child. We are hardworking people. I don’t condone this music or its demonic undertones. I know the kind of people your industry attracts. It’s not safe, not for him, or our relationship, and not for my child.”

I don’t want to argue with her, “I understand. I know it seems like there are no rules when we’re out there. But, there are. You’ve maybe heard the worst and wildest stories, but the community must have rules to maintain. I think everyone’s learned. We’re hopefully wiser. It’s going to be a safe group who want to create. That’s all this is, an opportunity to do that.”     

Her tense features don‘t change. “Thank you for stopping by. We’ll be praying for you.”

Although several years earlier, and under the assumption that people do change, I’d watched Joe, both sober and on various chemical influences, explore the metaphysical as well as engage in random hookups all across the country, so Madison could save a few of her prayers for the curiosity and vibrance living within the man sleeping beside her.

“Thank you. I’ll give you some time to think it over.” I stand and politely push the chair in, looking to Joe for any indication before stepping towards the door. He only stares at the lowest corners of the room as I speak, “You have my number. It was great to see you again.”

📽

INTERVIEW:

PRODUCER

Please state your name and occupation.

ROSE

My name is Rose… Scott. I was tour manager with the same band for sixteen years.

CUT:

ROSE

No one can really talk about what it takes to be nomadic because once the ground stops moving, it's not definitive anymore. We descend from Hunter/Gatherers, migrants who crossed mountains and then you read On the Road, and watch Almost Famous, Atlanta, The Kids are Alright, Spinal Tap… study the legacy of troubadours. But in reality, what is revealed only once you‘re in a caravan is that each soul has a different energetic weight which must balance together on a carpet of nuance, barely a fabric of ego and proper hydration. It’s an endurance game, mainly. When you’re out there survival becomes a delicate exchange of immediate needs and wants… All that matters, right in front of you from moment to moment. To feel that free, I’ve never felt anything like it before. The energy of the collective audience creates the vibrations that keep us afloat, you know what I mean? It’s barely existing at all while spending every waking moment convincing, in the most profound way possible that you exist at the brightest watt tolerable. And that shared presence is what sustains the carpet… but ours toppled… while flying in midair. So I guess, in hindsight, we grew greedy.``

PRODUCER

With what?

ROSE

Human souls.

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