Postby Davidizer13 » Tue Oct 26, 2010 12:54 pm
Ricky
Back in the garage, Ricky tapped out a beat - something in 7/8ths time, because he could. You never heard anyone play 7/8ths, not even his own band, because Big Music had crushed originality and musicmanship. A select few had escaped their corrosive influence, but that number grew smaller and smaller by the day.
Why, just the other day, he had sat through Brand New's latest album. It was good - almost everything about it was better than their last ones, in fact, but something had changed. They had sold out, and their end was coming; once he finished it, he had lost all respect for them and moved it and their other albums onto the "sellout" shelf, between Bob Dylan and The Clash. Indeed, how the mighty have fallen, he mused.
Great, and now I've lost my beat... One, two, three, one, two, three, four... Yeah. He glanced up at his bandmates - those (rather creepy) twins, that one annoying girl, and the that one metalhead chick Calvin was talking about that hadn't shown up yet - how I got roped into this, I'll never know, he thought. He didn't know how they got into this either, but...hey, it sounded like it was fun, right? At least, until they got famous or Calvin got a weird foreign artist girlfriend (which actually sounded like fun - for him). Either way, the bottom would fall out, the band would get messed up, and they'd end up stamping out generic pop standards for some media conglomerate, like every other band out there. Bah, lost my beat again. Start over...
We are loved even though we suck.
Psalms 37:37 (NHEB)
Mark the perfect man, and see the upright, for there is a future for the man of peace.