Gang Of Losers by Chris Lynton
Chapter Five
Theo ran all the way and got home at two twenty. His dad was in the kitchen (thank God for that!).
"Dad, can you give me a lift to Chippenham? I've just been asked to audition for a band."
Roger was used to short notice and filling his Volvo with drums, so he put his coffee down and said he'd meet Theo out the front. Meanwhile, Theo ran to his room taking the stairs three at a time, and set about dismantling the kit. He folded down the cymbal stands and stuffed them into an old brown suitcase. The cymbals themselves were wrapped in bed sheets and the drums stacked up in twos so as to be easily transportable down the stairs. Once he'd done this Roger came up and helped him lug everything down to the car. In ten minutes they were ready to go. But by now Theo was drenched in sweat, and looking down at his armpits he realised that he had forgotten to put deodorant on this morning. There were big dark patches under his arms. The checked shirt would have to go. But he couldn't just wear the cropped t-shirt due to the tanning issue, so a new outfit was needed.
An image came into his mind of one of his favourite drummers - Clem Burke from Blondie. Clem always wore a black suit, with a white shirt and black tie. It was a look that Theo liked and he wondered if it might work for him now. He didn't own a black suit but he did have a white shirt and a black tie. He fetched the shirt from his drawer. It needed an iron. Another look at his watch: two thirty. Five minutes of ironing, then they'd be away. The trip to Chippenham would only take fifteen minutes so in theory he could still make it for three o'clock. He ran to the ground floor and retrieved the ironing board from the cupboard under the stairs. The iron needed water so Theo rushed to the kitchen, the plug rattling along the floor behind him.
Once the shirt was ironed he rushed up to the bathroom, put some deodorant on and then put the shirt and black tie on. He checked the look in the mirror and was happy with what he saw. Now he felt ready, if a little flustered. But before leaving he grabbed his school rucksack, emptied it of all its contents and put his new drumsticks in it. He'd be needing the rucksack later.
Finally ready for his audition, he rushed down to the car where his dad waited patiently.
"Looking sharp buster."
"Thanks dad."
The roads were quiet and as they approached Chippenham. Roger made small talk, asking about the band. Theo told him the name: "Steal Guitars. Not 'steel' as in the type of metal but 'steal' as in 'to nick'". His dad liked it but wondered if the meaning would be lost on people unless they saw it written down. But then again, both spellings worked, Roger concluded. As they approached Sounds International, Theo turned to his dad:
"Dad, would you mind not calling me Buster or Sunshine in front of the others?"
His dad smiled. "Of course not. Are you still going to call me sport though?"
"Yup."
They arrived outside the music shop at five minutes to three. Perfect. He asked his dad to wait in the car and told him he just needed to check that he'd got the time right (in fact he didn't want his father to know that his trip was probably in vain). When he entered the shop it was empty apart from a group of goth-y looking girls admiring the guitars and laughing amongst themselves. The shop owner sat behind his desk and said hello as Theo walked in. The group of girls looked around and Theo could feel his face turning red.
Now he wasn't sure what to do. The audition was downstairs, and he could see the stairway leading downwards at the side of the shop. But should he just walk down or should he announce his intentions to the shop owner? He decided on the latter. But not quite sure how to phrase his question he just said "Umm, audition? Downstairs?" The shop keeper nodded in agreement and said "Good luck".
His heart began to race - this was it. Once he walked down those stairs he would set in to motion a chain of events that would either end with him drumming for one of the biggest bands in the area, or in crushing disappointment.
As he took the stairs down, the air began to fill with smoke. This didn't bode well as Theo wasn't great in enclosed smoky conditions - he needed fresh air with his cigarettes. He could hear chatter and the occasional guitar chord. He finally got to the bottom of the stairs and walked in to the cramped rehearsal space.
Both Heritage brothers towered over Theo's five foot eight frame. Lee wore a white shirt, black braces and a green cravat. Mark, the younger brother wore a white t-shirt and black Levi 501s, with a pack of Marlboros rolled up in the sleeve. Theo was pleased with his last minute decision to wear his own black and white outfit as it closely mirrored what the brothers were wearing. Mark was the first to see him:
"Are you Theo?"
Theo nodded eagerly, his most accommodating smile on his face. Mark introduced him to Lee and the fourth member of the band: the chubby double bass player, who Theo now learned was called Danny. He wore a denim jacket and dark jeans with thick turn-ups - no worries about the Status Quo look here. He held on to his double bass with both hands and nodded in Theo's direction.
Lee turned to his brother and said "He's a bit young isn't he?"
Mark turned to Theo and said "I dunno, are you?"
Theo told them that he was sixteen, which seemed to appease them.
Theo looked around the practice room. As he originally suspected, there was a drum kit already set up. Now he needed to let his dad know that he was surplus to requirements.
"Um, excuse me," Theo said, "I've just got to go and tell someone something." He ran up the stairs and out of the shop to his father's parked car. He told Roger that he wouldn't be needing the drums after all and that it would have been nice if the band had told him that there was a kit already here, to which Roger rolled his eyes in agreement. Theo told him not to wait; he wanted to go into Chippenham centre after the audition to have a look around the shops and would get the bus back.
He ran back across the road, into the shop (disturbing the goth girls again as he did so), down the stairs and into the cramped rehearsal room. He apologized for his momentary absence, took his rucksack off and sat on the drum stool. The kit in front of him was an old Gretch 4-piece comprising a 20-inch bass drum with a single tom-tom mounted on it, a floor tom and a snare. The heads of the drums were dirty and knobbled, clearly on the verge of breaking through. The cymbals were old, their logos long faded. Theo guessed they were Paiste by their shape and colour. He quickly adjusted he heights and locations of various parts of the kit, gave the snare a quick TAP TAP with his new nylon tipped sticks and awaited further instructions.
Lee Heritage looked at him, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "So, what music you into then?"
"The Clash, Eddie Cochran, some punk stuff, rock n roll," Theo replied. "Anything really, as long as it's melodic. And loud." He hoped his name-checking of The Clash wasn't seen as a too-obvious attempt to ingratiate himself.
"A-ha!" said Mark, looking at his older brother "an Eddie Cochran fan!"
Lee stubbed his cigarette out on the pub-style carpet. "Right then" he said, "Brand New Cadillac. Again."
He began the Duane Eddie-style guitar, and then the rest of the band, Theo included, joined in
BAM!
BAM BAM!
BAM!
BAM BAM!
This was it. The new nylon-tipped sticks gave Theo's drumming a nice crisp sound, especially on the ride cymbal. He felt right at home. Steal Guitars were a tight unit; the double bass player provided intricate, rambling bass lines over which the Heritage brothers' guitars sounded sharp and precise. Lee's vocal was as close to Joe Strummer as you could get. The song was over before he knew it.
Mark looked his way. "Fuck you're loud," he said.
Tthanks," Theo replied, although he wasn't sure if this was a compliment or not. He looked down at the kit and noticed that there was a fresh rip in the snare drum skin.
He watched as Mark took off his guitar, walked over to Lee and whispered in his ear. He was pretty sure he heard the words "by far." Lee half-shrugged, half nodded.
Mark turned to Theo:
A broad grin spread across his face and he thanked his new band mates for the opportunity. Mark asked if he'd mind staying a while longer to jam along to a couple of their own songs. Theo said sure. The songs were standard rockabilly stomps that required a simple train beat which Theo performed with aplomb. The rip in the snare drum got gradually bigger, and he had to use the smallest tom in its place.
When the session finished, Mark told Theo that he would call him soon to arrange rehearsal details, and to give Theo a tape of all their songs. There would be several band rehearsals before the Moles gig. Luckily these rehearsals would take place in the evenings as the other members of the band had day jobs, so Theo didn't have to worry about missing school.
He thanked Mark and Lee again and left them to pack up their gear. As he left the shop, he looked around for the goth-y girls, hoping they might have been there to witness his triumph, but they had gone. He looked at the guitars they had been admiring. He didn't understand how people could get so excited about guitars. No way were they as much fun to play as the drums. As he left, he wondered if he should offer to pay for the torn snare skin, but thought better of it in case the owner said yes.
Although he had told his dad that he was going to go into Chippenham town centre to wander around the shops, that wasn't his intention. Instead he headed towards an off-licence by the train station that served under-age drinkers. He had been going there for about a year now. He bought a four-pack of Holsten Pils and twenty Consulates. Once out of the shop, he put the fags and booze into his rucksack, and caught the bus back home.