Kruppo

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The day passed far too quickly, and it had been fun for us as we had gone to the beach, swam for a bit, hit on a few girls, and in general tried to relax and avoid the oncoming rush of fears that would probably hit all of us.
The worst cases of nervousness came from David and me, naturally. David had never performed before, and he was terrified, whereas I was just trying to contain the nerves that had been building up in me from the early morning.
While the rest of Juggernaut was in the main room of Marty’s coffee shop, setting up the gear, David and I were in the bathroom, hitting the stalls. I didn’t throw up, but instead just felt my stomach flare up, as if taking a direct punch again and again. I felt a tightening in my throat, the kind that comes only when an anticipated vomiting was on its way. But to my sorrow, nothing came out of my mouth except gasps of air as I strove to maintain my strength.
I could hear David going at it in the stall beside me, and even though I couldn’t see him because of the wall that separated us, I could tell from the sound of his heaving that he was in absolute agony and fear. I heard him release, and the sound of liquids and half-digested shit pouring forth from his mouth into the toilet was sickening, and the smell that came afterwards almost did me in as well.
And yet still, nothing came out. I finally gave up and kicked the flushing mechanism on the toilet, leaving the stall. I waited outside of David’s, listening to hear if he was still throwing up. I heard nothing but deep breaths, and I spoke through the door. “You gonna be all right, man?”
“I guess,” He said after he regained his breath. “How do you guys do this?”
“You kidding me? I’m not used to this at all, either.” I laughed as he came out of the stall, face pale, lips slightly trembling as he went over to the sink and splashed water on his face and hair, soaking his whole head.
“This is the biggest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” he said quietly after pulling his head out of the stream of water. “I need to thank you guys once again for giving me a shot at this. You could’ve had any other guy who’s already had experience in other bands, but you guys bet the farm on me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say we’re gambling everything away on you,” I had to laugh again at how serious he was taking this whole thing. It was a good sign though; he was intense, and that would only mean he’d strive to perform to his greatest abilities. “I mean, we’re not really a live band anyways.”
“Point taken,” He dried his hands, shaking his head a few times to get rid of the excess saturation. “Still, thanks for letting me do this. This is a dream I’ve always wanted to pursue, but never thought I’d ever have the opportunity of doing.”
I punched him in the arm lightly, trying to put on a brave face and inspire him. “Hey man, this is an experience. Regardless of what happens here tonight, or what happens to the band in the future, you can always tell your kids about this in a decade or so.”
And with that, our bathroom conversation was over. We went back out to the main room, where a stage was placed carefully against the back wall of the shop. The lights were dimmed, and Marty had the speakers around the whole shop playing some Nirvana while the crowd stood around, ordering drinks and talking excitedly. Jessie helped Jake finish up putting his kit together, and Brian was ready to go. Jessie eventually ran over to Ty and me, both of us checking to make sure our instruments were tuned.
“So it looks like you guys are in the clear, so far.” Jessie slapped us both on the backs. “You ready for this?”
“I was bred for this.” Ty laughed. I rolled my eyes. My stomach was still being assaulted by the nerves, but now they had settled for a slow, drumming beat instead of an all-out frenzy. This was as good as it was going to get, no doubt.
“Still breathing, Chad?” Jessie eyed me now. I just swallowed and nodded.
“I just hope David doesn’t pass out on stage,” I said. “He was freaking out in the bathroom.”
“He’ll be fine, as long as he sticks with the music and doesn’t try to change the tempo or anything,” Ty said. “Did you get a chance to read what he wrote for lyrics?”
“No. Did you?” I had the feeling that Ty had.
Ty nodded. There was a glint in his eyes, something bright and wild. “They’re really, really good man.” He said.
“Good.” It was time to go then. I could feel it as Marty approached us.
“Hey, you guys ready to go? It’s time.” We all nodded, and Marty smiled. “Good luck, fellas. See you on the other side.” He and Jessie went back down to the front of the store, where a few tables and chairs as well as couches were strung out.
“See you on the other side? Was that a joke?” Jake wondered aloud as he sat down in front of his drums and slammed through a blast beat, a final check for his kit.
No one could be sure. Everyone was lined up, and we had warmed up. It was time to quit stalling and get going. Everyone in the crowd had their eyes on us, and once again, the nerves hit me like a battering ram. There was a microphone stand in front of me, but David wasn’t there; he was still pacing on the stage, trying to get himself under control.
It had to have been the grace of the God character; before Ty or I could step up to the mic and say something, Brian seized one nearby him and spoke directly into it. “Nice to see some friendly faces,” he said. “How you all doin’ tonight?”
We got a simple cheer, nothing serious. It was all a formality anyway. But already, Ty and I faced each other, the song already in our minds and hearts, and as we faced each other, it was easy to see the music already flowing between us.
“Well great,” Brian was still speaking, working his charm on the audience. “We’re from a small town in the northern part of Virginia, and we called ourselves Juggernaut.”
The first song began then. It was the one that our former drummer Gary Johnson had named “You Ain’t No Bum Without Whiskey” and as soon as it built up on Jake’s slow drumming, Ty and I came in with our leads, and as we quickly came to the peak of the intro, we all came down on our instruments in a slamming rhythm that was almost impossible to ignore. The whole crowd started jumping up and down to it.
And things improved from there. The moment we’d begun our heavy assault, David had leaped towards the microphone stand and began belting out the lyrics he’d written. It was just like the last time I’d seen him singing, when we’d recruited him. His stance was straight, and his hands were behind his back as he proceeded in a fine voice, pure and steady.
“I’ve got aches and pains/” I heard. “Tried to get rid of the cocaine/ Dug too deep into my grave/ Fell back into the wave…” I was too busy with my own part in the performance to hear much at the time. I was too worried about screwing up to pay attention.
Whatever words he was slinging about, however, it became fairly obvious that David had the crowd wrapped around his little finger. They really dug his attitude and ferocity; Ty also garnered some attention as he drifted close to the stage edge and bent down near some of the kids in the front row, having no idea what he was doing except that he was pounding out music.
The song was a long one by normal standards; originally, the song had been thirteen minutes long. However, Marty had encouraged us to avoid playing anything too lengthy, if only for time’s sake, so we’d cut it down to eight minutes.
But that didn’t stop the musical journey, as that time had no effect on us. We knew the song well enough to enjoy every little moment it hung in the air. Finally, we came to the bridge part of the song, where it was all me, Jake, and Ty playing, with Brian throwing a little pitter-pattering piece on the keys. Jake’s drumming had sped up to the point where it seemed he was going King Crimson on us. Ty played a fast section as well, but it was one I knew that was setting me up for the solos that I was going to be playing.
And there was nothing more I wanted to do then than tear loose. Instead of playing the solo Ty and I had rehearsed, I found myself busting something similar sounding to what the Acid Mothers Temple collective would play in their concerts. Shrieking lines came out of the speakers as I shredded the damn tool in my hands, feeling like I was tearing some skin on my fingers. But nevertheless, I was in my own world, and the fretboard was my controls for creating something spectacular.
The crowd ate it up. Every minute that passed, even when David took back over, there was no doubt Juggernaut was asserting its dominance over any of the other bands that had come through here this night. And even as we slowly drew towards the ending of the song, Ty and David were both laughing on stage, knowing that we’d succeeded.
The song finally finished, and the sounds of cheering and screams for more were incredible, rising up on a point of force that was difficult to face. Brian was shaking his head in admiration, sweating viciously like the rest of us. I glanced at him, and he grinned back at me.
He leaned back into the microphone and said, “Wow,” He spoke to us on the stage, as we all looked about, pleased. “I think they liked it. So tell me, guys. Do you want more?”
Their cheers were enough. We went on to play three more songs and an encore that was completely improvised, and we finished up, letting the next band take the stage. By the end of our own performance, we were all soaked with sweat and drained, but the sheer energy in the room, the sheer atmosphere of our unbelievable play gave us enough adrenaline to hug each other and shake hands with Marty.

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I'm so post-rock I shit sad birds