Strung Tight (The Road To Rocktoberfest #1) - Ann Lister Page 0,9
bit to reach him faster.
“Did Spumoni help you out?” Dallas asked.
“He did,” I answered. “What a seriously cool guy.”
“You've never met him?”
I shook my head. “No, not formally, so it was good to get the introduction out of the way.”
“Did he offer to get you high?” Dallas asked and chuckled.
“He had to run to another warehouse,” I explained.
Dallas's chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh to the point he was hanging on to his sides and doubled over.
“Am I missing something here?”
Dallas draped an arm over my shoulders and tried to catch his breath from his fit of laughter. “Dude, you have no clue, do you?”
“I guess not, so how about you clue me in?”
“I've got stories for you, but we don't have time to get into them now and do them justice,” Dallas said. “How about we hang for a bit after you finish your practice for the day?”
“Yeah, that works,” I said, “but I'm intrigued. Not sure I feel like waiting another couple of hours.”
Dallas gave me a playful shove. “Get your ass back to work, rock star,” he said. “I'll be out by the trailers when you're done. Come find me.”
“I will,” I said. “See you soon.”
Chapter Four
“How about we work on ‘Hack Me’ for a bit?” I suggested as I walked back into the rehearsal studio. Mike was in the middle of tapping out rhythms on his drum kit for a song I hadn't heard before, and Jeff and Randy were still trying to play through one of the trickier verses in “Phone It In.” They all stopped playing and looked at me.
“We haven't nailed ‘Phone’ yet,” Mike pointed out. “Why do you want to move on to another song?”
“I don't know,” I said. “Maybe to mix it up?”
“Shouldn't we stick to one and get it polished before we move on?” Randy asked.
“Look, we don't even have to keep ‘Phone’ on our setlist,” I explained. “I don't really care. The piece doesn't necessarily showcase our strong points.”
“Which are?” Mike asked.
“Rhythmic runs of notes and there are tons of them in ‘Hack Me,’” I said. “That's all I'm saying.”
“Maybe we should take a little time to write up an official setlist and just concentrate on getting those few songs down perfectly,” Jeff said.
“We could do that.” I walked over to grab the notepad and pen I always had nearby. I flipped the pages and found an empty one, then folded back the covers to write. “What are your favorites?”
“‘Bang Bang’ I think is a great song for all of us,” Jeff said. “It gives each of us a few moments of showing our talents and what we can do.”
“Yeah, I agree.” I nodded and wrote down his suggestion, which was one of the first songs we'd written together as a band and also one of my favorites.
“Kind of old, isn't it?” Michael asked. “Shouldn't we be playing newer stuff?”
“We can play a mixture,” I offered. “I think it's more important we pick songs that show off our best skills—individually and also as a band.”
“Agreed,” Randy said.
“We have more than enough songs to pick from,” I added.
“We don't have that many, Fletch,” Mike disagreed.
“We have more originals than most new bands have,” I argued.
“How long did Dagger say we have to do our set?” Jeff questioned.
“About twenty minutes,” I informed.
“So what's that, three or four songs?” Mike asked.
“Yeah, about that many.”
“Then let's pick five to be on the safe side,” Jeff said.
We spent the next hour tossing out ideas until we had what we felt was a kick-ass setlist, and then we called it a day. The guys started to pack up their instruments and put away their gear before we said our good-byes. Mike was wiping the sweat off his sticks as he walked over to me.
“Do you need a ride home?” he asked.
“Nah, I'm gonna hang out with Dallas for a bit,” I explained. “He's got some stories he wants to share with me about Spumoni.”
“Spumoni, the equipment guy?” Mike asked with the lift of one brow.
“Supposedly,” I scoffed. “If the dirt is any good, I'll tell you when I get home later.”
I wiped off the neck and body of my guitar with a soft cloth and set the instrument back into the stand next to my microphone.
Mike laughed and gave me a wave as he headed toward the exit. “Catch you later.”
I finished up in the rehearsal room and turned off the lights, then stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind me. It