Stevie counts it off.
Drum sticks.
Holding them above his head for the full effect.
And we hit the riff.
Just like we rehearsed it.
That riff that I found at 10pm sitting on the couch watching the TV.
And I look out at the crowd.
And they look like they are into it.
Annie comes over and leans in, bass slung low, and shouts in my ear.
Something.
I can’t hear it.
But she smiles and walks out to the front of the stage.
And we hit the solo.
And I’m bending the B string and the fucker snaps.
Gone.
Fuck man.
I had this all figured out.
I look at Stevie and he laughs.
I look out at the crowd and some folk have clocked it.
There’s some smiles and laughter.
But fuck it.
I dig in.
And just rip the fuck out of a solo on the remaining five strings.
Up to the 12th fret.
It sounds fat on the lower strings and then cuts through when I jump to the 1st string.
Annie looks back round at me and comes over and we stand facing each other, Stevie pounding the drums.
And I’m laughing.
But it works.
