Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Sex drugs rock n roll. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Sex drugs rock n roll. Mostrar todas las entradas

martes, mayo 22, 2007

Je Suis Un Rock Star

I'm not really, although you wouldn't know that by looking at me today. I look like I just played an all night session with Steven Tyler and Joe Perry (Aerosmith) back in the days when they were called the Toxic Twins. This is thanks directly to a couple of drinks with Joliet Jake last night which became more than a couple as we discussed the 'good old days' when we were in a band.

Obviously, we decided to form a new supergroup and so, be warned. Middle-aged metal may soon be raining down on your MP3.

Back to the reminiscing. We both had sordid tales to tell of our past lives as would be rock stars. Apparently, his bass player had a passing resemblance to Jabba the Hut in tight pants, my bass player was convinced he was Steve Harris (the bassist from Iron Maiden). Attempting to recreate Harris's posturing, one foot on the monitor whilst 'machine-gunning' the crowd with your bass guitar might work at Wembley Stadium. It does not fucking work in some dingy pub in Leicester when all you can put your foot on is a small bar stool.

JJ's drummer was naturally, for a drummer, utterly thick, whereas mine suffered from epilepsy. Yup, a drummer with epilepsy. How fucking rock n roll is that? How do you know if he's having a fit or just attempting a solo?

My lead guitarist was loved by all the women but painfully shy when he didn't have a guitar slung over his shoulders. So shy, he couldn't even ask a girl for a date - I had to do it for him. When we went into the studio I even wrote an acoustic love song which we recorded. He still didn't get the girl although her sister did become very erm, friendly, with me.

The conclusion was that my band took considerably more drugs than his. This was entirely due to my other guitarist, who I eventually sacked. I am neither pro or anti drugs but when you are trying to play a heavy rock gig to a few hundred people and the guitarist is burbling on about strawberries and floating elephants, it isn't going to work.

As the beer flowed, so did our determination to be in a band again. I know I can't recreate the days of yesteryear when, as the lead singer I received more offers of sex than you can imagine. However, I do miss the adrenaline rush just before the first song. We've sound-checked so we know how loud it's going to be but to see those expressions of fear appear on people's faces as we launch into the first song, followed by the change to bouncing, head-banging joy is something you don't get in many other walks of life.

The last gig I played was in The Cavern club in Liverpool, made famous by some little known group called the Beatles. So, planning is required. We have a date with Wembley Stadium and this time I am not supporting Oasis - bollocks, they can support us.

Now all we need is a name..... suggestions?