Keep in mind, I taped these songs a long time ago on a hand-held recorder. If we’re lucky, new and better recordings are in the works. Come back and check. — Cory
Do What You Do
Terry hit the cymbals.
This tune wasn’t as hard-driving as the first one. Guitar and piano. . . synthesizer . . . I could see Roach was playing, too, but it took my ear a few seconds to pick out his bass line. That’s the odd thing about live music—traveling through all those wires and boxes, what you hear doesn’t match what you see.
A voice, male. Not Dan, not Niko, not Roach. Terry?
I Hope You Get Home All Right
“Yeah!” Dan’s voice answered my knock.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed with an acoustic guitar, leaning forward to look at a notebook on the floor. Terry sat cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the notebook. Niko knelt beside him with a blues harp.
“Da-da-da home all right,” sang Terry. He glanced up briefly as I came in. “Or should I stay on the same note? What are you doing there?”
Dan’s guitar neck went up, Terry’s sticks came down.
Dam-dam! A double chord and a wild guitar tailspin.
Something clicked in my head: Mickey Ascher, blond hair shimmering, hands cupped around his mic.
Dam-dam! Recognition and applause rippled across the field. The hit single from Rind or Reason: “Dynamite Wheels.”
“Roach.” Dan turned. “Do you remember ‘Film Noir’?”
“That old acoustic thing of yours?” He considered. “I can fake it.”
“Vocals, acoustic guitar, and bass,” Dan said to Neil. “How’s that?”
Dan slipped his Stratocaster off over his head; leaned it against a monitor, picked up the wooden Gibson beside it. “This song’s for a friend out there who’s been asking for it,” he squinted into the lights, “though she doesn’t know it.”