Page 1 of Mayhem

1

NUMB

BRAD

The politics of rock ‘n roll fucking suck. And it’s not just the kissing asses and kissing babies part of it to keep our ‘image’ in check that rubs me the wrong way. It’s the whole – ‘be somebody you’re not.’ Because ultimately, that’s exactly what it is.

‘Whatever it is you’re doing, stop doing that. You should look like this, and sound like this, and act like this…’

Fuck that noise.

I have never conformed to what society expected of me a day in my life, and I’m not inclined to start now. And while we’re now sitting in the conference room of our record label getting our asses handed to us for losing another bass player, we got here by being ourselves in the first place. The suits never see that part of the equation.

Our new manager, Ian Summer, a former British rockstar himself, seems to get it. Mostly. And is trying to stick up for us.

“Eliza, you know that Frankie wasn’t going to be able to cut it in the long run,” he says to the VP of Blackmore Records, our label. “I say it’s better that this happened now on the way up, rather than at the top, wouldn’t you agree?”

The exec twirls a lock of hair as she considers his question, it’s shoulder-length, and platinum with bright blue ends. At first glance, she’s not your typical boardroom filler, but she can be a hardass when she wants. Unfortunately, it looks like she wants to be one right now.

Lucky us.

“I get what you’re saying, Ian. I do.” She glances around at us, a bit disparagingly. “But Frankie was the third bass player this year alone. And these people have contracts that we need to pay out, even when they leave. We can’t afford to keep doing this.”

And there it is. It’s all about the money. It always is. We’re digging into their bottom line. Fuck the music. Fuck the artistry.

Money. Money. Money.

Ian nods and rubs a hand down his face as if he understands. Before managing us, he was an executive with Blackmore too. In fact, he’s the guy that got us signed with the label in the first place. But he’s a former musician. He gets where we’re coming from. I really hope he’s not about to start agreeing that we need to change somehow, because that would piss me the fuck off. I like Ian, and I don’t want that to change over this stupid shit.

Band members come and go all the time, and all over the place. Hell, I couldn’t even count the number of bands I’ve been in and left for one reason or another. Sure, not always by my choice, but that’s how it is. Everything in this business is temporary, except the music.

The music is what fucking matters.

“So, what are the options, then?” Ian asks, his eyes tired. “I take it you have a suggestion as to how to fix this?”

Eliza looks around at all of us, her face unreadable. But I get the sense that she’s trying to figure out how we’re going to react to whatever she’s about to say. My spine tingles with fight or flight reactions at the ready.

“Your auditions for a new bass player start next week, correct?” She asks, but she knows the answer already. I’m not crazy about the slight nervousness in her tone now. As if she knows she’s about to disappoint us. When we only nod, she goes on. “Well, we’ve brought in a new PR person for the label, Tess Lagerfeld. She’s brilliant at image makeovers. A little new at this industry, but she’s a game changer. And she’ll be shadowing you during the process and handling all social media going forward for Chaos Fuel.”

We all stare at each other, dumbfounded.

‘Image makeover?’

Oh, fuck this.

2

ROCK SHOW

TESS

When Eliza Kerr invited me to work for Blackmore Records, I was initially hesitant. Music PR isn’t my wheelhouse. Believe it or not, it’s a completely different skillset from working with actors or politicians, who, amazingly, are very similar in their public relations nightmares. And technically, are easier to put a shine on.

Music fans are a little more nuanced than a typical audience because music itself speaks to the soul, not the mind. Lyrics and melodies call to a person’s heart and live there. Once that gets tarnished, it’s a lot harder to polish.

I welcome the challenge that this will bring, but I am not one to jump ships like this. I liked the stability of my previous jobs. I knew what to expect from day to day. I needed that control in my life. Ever since my parents divorced when I was young, and I bounced between houses I’ve craved order.

So, why I accepted Eliza’s offer, I have no idea. The only reason I can come up with is that I’d hit a mental plateau of some kind. Nothing felt fulfilling anymore. There wasn’t any purpose to anything, other than to do the same thing over and over. Rinse and repeat.

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