Roddy Doyle - The Commitments

— It’ll wreck your voice.

That shut Deco up while he decided if it was true.

Billy took a long drag and held the joint out for any takers.

— BLOW THA’ OU’, BILLY, Jimmy roared.

Billy exhaled.

— I’d die if I didn’t, yeh fuckin’ eejit.

He still held the joint up in his fingers.

— What’s wrong with it? Outspan asked.

Jimmy was doing some thinking. What had annoyed him at first was the fact that they hadn’t got the go-ahead from him before they’d lit up. He needed a better reason than that.

— For one thing, he said. — Righ’ —Yis’re barely able to play your instruments when yis have your heads on yis.

— Ah here!

— Are you sayin’ I can’t sing, son?

— Second, said Jimmy. — We’re a soul group. Remember tha’. Not a pop group or a punk group, or a fuckin’ hippy group. — We’re a soul group.

— Wha’ d’yeh mean, WE’RE? said Deco.

— Fuck up, you.

Jimmy was grateful for the interruption. It gave him more time to think of something.

— If you’re not happy with the way I’m doin’ things then —

— We love yeh, Jimmy. Keep goin’.

— Righ’. —Where was I? — Yeah. — We’re a soul group. We want to make a few bob but we have our principles. It’s not just the money. It’s politics too, remember. We’re supposed to be bringin’ soul to Dublin. We can’t do tha’ an’ smoke hash at the same time.

— It’s oney hash.

— The tip o’ the fuckin’ iceberg, Billy. Dublin’s fucked up with drugs. Drugs aren’t soul.

— Wha’ abou’ drinkin’?

— That’s different, said Jimmy. — That’s okay. The workin’ class have always had their few scoops.

— Guinness is soul food, said Joey The Lips.

— That’s me arse, Jimmy, said Outspan.

— Listen, said Jimmy. — For fuck sake, we can’t say we’re playin’ the people’s music if we’re messin’ around with drugs. We should be against drugs. Anti drugs. Heroin an’ tha’.

— Yeah, but —

— Look wha’ happened to Derek’s brother.

— Leave my brother ou’ o’ this, said Derek. He nearly shouted it.

— Okay, sorry. But yeh know wha’ I mean.

— Wha’ happened to Derek’s brother? Billy asked.

— Forget it.

— Wha’ happened your brother?

— Forget it, Billy.

— I was oney askin’.

— Annyway, said Jimmy. — Do yis agree with me?

— Ah yeah— o’ course, oney —

— We’ll get a Heroin Kills banner for behind the drums, said Jimmy.

— Hang on, said Deco. — Wha’ abou’ the niggers in America, the real soul fellas, wha’ abou’ them? They all smoke hash. — Worse.

This was Joey The Lips’ field.

— Not true, Brother. Real Soul Brothers say No to the weed. All drugs. — Soul says No.

— Wha’ abou’ Marvin Gaye?

— Wha’ abou’ him? said Jimmy.

— He died of an overdose.

— His da shot him, yeh fuckin’ sap.

— A bullet overdose, said Billy.

— Sam Cooke then, said Deco.

— I don’t know wha’ happened him. — Joey?

— Died under very mysterious circumstances, said Joey The Lips. — A lady.

— Enough said.

— I’m sure he was lookin’ for it, said Imelda.

— Phil Lynott, said Deco.

— Fuck off, said Jimmy. — He wasn’t soul.

— He was black.

— Ah, fuck off an’ don’t annoy me. — Get ou’ o’ my life. — Annyway, do yis agree abou’ the hash? An’ the heroin, like?

— Yeah

They all nodded or stayed quiet.

— Can we smoke it after the rehearsal, Jimmy? Billy asked.

— Yeah, sure. No problem.

* * *

It was another week later.

James was late so Joey The Lips was going to put Deco through a new song, James Brown’s Out of Sight.

— You’re sure you know it now?

— O’ course I’m sure.

— Okay then. Off you go. — A one —

Deco put his hands to his ears.

Outspan nudged Derek.

— Fuckin’ tosser.

Deco sang.

— YOU GOT YOUR HIGH HEELED SNEAKERS ON —

YOUR STUFF IS NEW —

YOU GOT YOUR HIGH HEELED SNEAKERS ON —

SIMON HARTS —

YOUR GEAR IS NEW —

YOU’RE MORE THAN ALRIGH — HI — HIGH’ —

YEH KNOW —

YOU’RE OU’ O’ SIGH’ — Fuck!

Jimmy had come in and made it obvious he wanted The Commitments to notice him when he threw an empty 7-up can at Deco’s head.

— Wha’ was tha’ for? Deco shouted.

— I don’t like yeh, said Jimmy. — An’ I’ve a bit o’ news for yis.

— So yeh hit ME?

— It didn’t hurt, an’ neither will me bit o’ news.

— Ooh! said Imelda. — Sounds good.

— It is, ’melda, it is indeed. An’ you’re lookin’ lovely tonigh’.

— Thank you, Jimmy. An’ you’re lookin’ horrible as ever.

— The news, said Joey The Lips.

— Are we goin’ to have The Angelus first or somethin’? said Outspan.

James came in.

— Sorry. — Puncture.

— Jimmy’s got news, James, said Bernie.

— But he’s keepin’ it to himself, said Imelda. (And she sang this bit.) — BECAUSE HE’S A BOLLIX.

— Are yis ready?

— Ah stop, Jimmy.

— Well, I’ve been busy for the last couple o’ nights.

— Yeh dirty man, said Deco.

Billy thumped him.

— I’ve been negotiatin’, said Jimmy.

— Janey!

— That’ll make yeh deaf.

They laughed, but only for a little while.

— I’ve got us a venue for our first gig.

— Fuckin’ great!

There were cheers and grins.

— When?

— Tomorrow week.

— Fuckin’ hell!

— It has to be then, said Jimmy. — Because the bingo caller — yeh know Hopalong — him, he’s goin’ into hospital for the weekend to get a tap put into his kidneys or somethin’, so it’s the only nigh’ the place is free.

— The community centre?

— Yeah.

— Tha’ kip!

— From little acorns, Brothers and Sisters, said Joey The Lips.

— Barrytown Square Garden, wha’, said Outspan.

— Hang on, said Derek. — No slaggin’. It’ll do for a start. — Thanks, Jimmy.

— Yeah. Thanks, Jim.

— No sweat.

— We bring the music to the people, said Joey The Lips. — We go to them. We go to their community centre. That’s soul.

— No one goes there, Joey, said Outspan. — ’cept the oul’ ones tha’ play the bingo.

— An’ the soccer. They change there, said Derek. — An’ the operetta society, an’ the Vinny de Paul.

— An’ Hopalong, said Natalie.

— He’s stickin’ it into your woman from the shop, Colette, did yis know tha’?

— He is NOT, said Bernie.

— He fuckin’ is.

— Good Jesus, that’s disgustin’.

— No wonder he limps, wha’.

— Our first gig, said Dean. — Our first gig.

— Who did yeh have to talk to abou’ the hall, Jimmy? James asked.

— Father Molloy.

— Oh fuck! Father Paddy, said Outspan. — The singin’ priest, he explained to the lads who weren’t from Barrytown.

Derek began to sing.

— MOR —

NIN’ HAS —

BROKE —

EN —

LIKE THE FIRST MOR —

HOR — HOR — NIN’ —

BLACK BIRD ON —

TREE TOP —

HAS HAD ITS FIRST CRAP —

— The folk mass, Outspan explained to the lads. — Fuckin’ desperate.

— Oh yeah, said Billy. — Is tha’ the one you got flung ou’ of?

— That’s it, said James.

— Did he brown yeh, Jimmy? Outspan asked.

— No. He just ran his fingers through me curly fellas.

— Aah!! Stop tha’! said Natalie.

— How much is it goin’ to cost? Deco asked.