Snippet #2534599

11 September 2013 — 16:34

"I swear to God, the day I can afford it I'm getting a Kemper."

"Th'fuck's a Kemper?"

"It's a modelling amp. Trivium uses them, I think."

"You're gonna go digital?"

"Either that or I'll start lifting. I hate carrying this head everywhere."

"You bought it, you carry it."

"Bite me."

"Okay."

"..Ow!"

"What? You said bite me."

The biter was a Black man in his late twenties, muscled like the cord of a whip, wearing a T-shirt for Metallica's Black Album and jeans. The other was White and in his mid-thirties, wearing the bottom half of a skinny black suit with a sleeveless white undershirt. He had the other half of the suit, a real shirt too, but he was saving them for the show proper.

The White man sighed and continued lugging the Blackstar head into the Ottobar's back door. Inside, the headliner was already set up, though the drum riser had been wisely moved back from the front of the stage to make room for the other drummers. The venue's cabs were set up on either side of the under-construction drum kit. The White man paused, trying to choose.

"Ted!" He whipped around to see the soundman. To call them friends would be pushing things, but they knew each other. The soundman pointed to the left side. "It's the side she's playing on! Irony, eh?"

Ted couldn't make sense of that remark, so he shrugged as well as he could and shuffled over to the cabinet, setting his head on top of it.

"Did you hear what I said?" The soundman's voice boomed through the venue's PA system.

Ted jumped, then chuckled. "I heard it, but I didn't get it. Who's she?"

"Didn't you see who else is playing?"

"Think so. Legion, right?"

"Yeah, but there's another band. You didn't hear?"

"I didn't, but I'm not surprised. Is there a point in the near future?"

"That chick you told me about, it's her band!"

Ted was about to ask for clarification, then he realized. Though he had worked with several female musicians, only one would have been notable enough to just be "that chick" to the soundman. Only one he could have known so easily.

Psychosis. Izzie Martinez.

Ted stood on the stage for a moment in that realization, staring at the drums blankly. Then he burst out laughing.

The Black man entered on this scene, lugging his own amplifier. He took in the scene for a second, then shook his head and put his amp up on the other guitar cab.

"Inside joke, Lionel," the soundman explained.

"Whatever," Lionel replied. "Want me to run soundcheck first?"

"Sure. Give him some time to laugh it out."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ted explained things afterward over a cigarette, and Lionel had to admit the coincidence was pretty funny. Sturm made a commitment to kick even more ass than usual, just to show Izzie, who no doubt would be watching. Lionel had only heard of her tangentially, but apparently she had made quite an impact on Ted, not only with the failed "Sturm & Drang" collaboration, but in forcing Cor Leonis into its final lineup before metamorphosing into Sturm.

And now was the moment of truth. The the Terminator theme's coda boomed over the speakers. A little bit of homemade fog floated through the air. In the darkness behind the fog, Charlotte sidled past the riser and settled behind the kit.

From the left of her, Ted emerged with his Ibanez Destroyer slung right at stomach level. On the other side, Lionel emerged with his Viper slung an inch below where Ted's was. Victor was right behind him. The Terminator theme faded out to nothing.

Ted picked a silent note, slowly turned the volume knob from off to full. The single note crested...

Behind him, Charlotte's sticks clicked one, two, three, four—

And off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first number finished with a bang and a held out chord. "Make some fucking noise!" Lionel yelled into the microphone, the first comprehensible thing he had said into the microphone. The crowd roared. "This next one's called Killer of Worlds!"

Charlotte counted five, and Ted started the pentameter riff off. Lionel harmonized it, Victor played the counterpoint. Ted had written this, basing it off a Cor Leonis jam. It certainly felt a bit out of place at first, but when Ted slammed from that to the main riff and the crowd roared, he felt vindicated. Finally, he was playing music people loved. Hell, he looked to be playing to quite the crowd.

Well, many of them were probably here for Legion, or even Psychosis, but still, having a crowd was nice.