Ann Lister: Sheet Music - A Rock 'n' Roll Love Story

“How will we tell Gary about this?” she asked Buzz. “You know he didn’t want me to send in our demo tape. He even threatened to kick me out of the band if I did.”

“Yeah, but that was before we got PICKED, baby!”

Buzz and Annie picked up their keyboard player, Ivory, before they headed to the gig. Ivory was a tall, black man, who spent most of his free time getting high. His talent was good for the band but his drug habits spelled trouble. The rest of the band had gotten clean years ago, except for Annie who had never ventured down that road.

“Hey, Ivory,” Annie yelled into the hollowness of the back of the van. Ivory’s head was already enveloped in a thick ring of smoke from a newly sparked joint. “Do you remember that Battle of the Band contest I entered our band?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“We’re in,” Buzz blurted before Annie could answer.

“Motha Fucka!” A wide, thin smile curled Ivory’s lips as he exhaled smoke from his nostrils like a dragon. “That’s cool.”

Annie glanced over at Buzz. “That was easy,” she teased. “One down, one to go, and the one that’s left is the ball buster.”

“It’s not going to be as bad as you think it will be. Gary’s not that much of a hard ass. You’ll see. We’ll tell him tonight after the gig.” Buzz patted Annie’s forearm and continued to drive into the city of Worcester. Taking a left onto Green Street, the club was in sight. “The place looks pretty packed tonight,” he commented, double parking the van in front of Sir Morgan’s Cove. “I’ll let you two out here and go find a place to park.”

Sir Morgan’s Cove did not look like much on the outside but inside it was a different story. No one would have guessed at this very club, back in the 1980’s Mick Jagger and the Rolling Stones kicked off a world concert tour. A wall of memorabilia depicts the event with autographed photographs of each band member. Now, over a decade later, the club still attracts the best of the local talent. Several times a month, White Rush were the headliners.

The club was full to capacity when Annie and Ivory pushed their way in toward the stage. Gary was already on stage setting up the microphones. Gary lived in Worcester and often showed up at their gigs early to set-up the stage according to his specifications. As usual, Ivory headed for the bar to get himself a drink before he went on stage.

Dark and smoky, the club seemed to take on a life of its own. Annie loved the energy that flowed up toward her on stage and the fact that she was sharing the same stage Mick Jagger had once pranced across only heightened the mystique of the club. The bright lights blocked most of the audience faces from her view and smeared their images to a blur. But she could feel them, always inching closer to her, begging her to sing. That is what she fed from and it kept her coming back week after week. No drug was as powerful as that.

Tonight she wore her tight satin pants with a white half shirt, exposing her firm breasts. Her hair she left to hang, curled slightly on the ends, bangs nearly covering her deep blue eyes. On her feet she wore black leather boots to give her a bit more height beside the guys.

Gary barely noticed that she had arrived and continued to run the necessary cables across the stage.

“Did Buzz and Ivory come with you?” Gary asked.

“Yeah. Looks like we’ll have a good gig tonight. The crowd is ready to rock,” Annie replied, wondering when she should break the good news to Gary. Carefully breaking good news to anyone lacked all logic. But Gary was hardly the logical kind of guy. Timing was everything whenever you had something to tell Gary and now clearly was not the time.

Buzz and Ivory squeezed onto the crowded stage and began setting up their equipment. Annie made her way back to the dressing room to finish putting on her makeup.

“Hey, Ronny, looks like a good crowd tonight,” Annie commented, as she passed the manager of the club in the hallway. Ronny reached out his arm and stopped her.

“Just so you know, rumor has it, some big talent scout or something will be in attendance tonight,” Ronny whispered.

“What makes you say that?”

“I got a phone call yesterday from some guy claiming to be a manager. He was asking if your band was still headlining tonight. You planning on leaving me for the big lights, Annie?”

“Not a chance, Ronny.”

“That’s what they all say, right before they stab me in the back!”

“Hey, did that guy have a name?” Annie asked.

“No name but the company was Bostonian something. I never heard of them.”

“Yeah, it’s probably nothing,” Annie replied.

She knew without a doubt it was something. It was in the air. The crowd was hot, and their music had to be even hotter. Her insides felt like boiling lava. Excitement and nerves made every cell of her skin feel alive.

They took the stage promptly at ten-o’clock and belted out their first set with an aggression that surprised the crowd. No ballads, just raw riffs and sophisticated rhythms. It was after eleven when they took their first break and, as usual, Annie stayed on stage. It had become her ritual of recent months. While the guys went for a drink, she pulled out her acoustic guitar and sang solo. Her voice, a guitar, and a lone spot light was all she needed. It was her only time to shine without Gary.

In a dark corner of the club, Annie heard a muffled commotion. A fight she thought, and shrugged it out of her mind. Clutching her guitar pick she proceeded to strum out the intro to “Crazy On You,” by the female rock group, Heart. They were a group she could truly identify with. Heart had what she wanted. Center stage. And she hoped someday it would be hers.

Annie always began with a raw, brash song first, to get the audience with her. It usually did not take too much coaxing and tonight it was easy. They were right there with her two bars into the first song. The second song was usually a ballad. Tonight she chose another Heart single, “Dog and Butterfly”. For this song she sat with one leg on the side of a wooden stool; center stage, acoustic guitar casually laid across her lap.

The commotion from the corner was ebbing closer. She squinted her eyes to pierce through the bright spotlight. Off to the side of the bar was a large hulk of a guy, the cartoon image of a bodyguard. He was clearing a path behind him for a shorter, dark haired man. Annie’s heart began to beat faster. The words to the song suddenly eluded her. The two men stopped just past the bar and stood in the darkness of the emergency door exit. They were still too far away from her to recognize them. She wondered if she should do a third song, as she usually did, or leave the stage to find out who the talent scout was.

She felt driven. If this was her one chance, she was going for it in a big bold way. She kicked the stool back and grabbed her electric guitar and belted out one last gutsy song from Heart, called “Magic Man”, that utilized her full vocal range. She had the crowd on their feet and wanting one more when Gary and guys came back on stage.

“Hey, did you hear who’s in the audience tonight?” Buzz screeched into Annie’s ear as he entered stage left.

“No. I saw them come in, but it was too dark to recognize them. Why, who the hell is it?” she asked.

“Michael-freaking-Wade and his bodyguard!”

“No way! Does Gary know?”

“Oh yeah!”

“I mean, does he know about the contest?” Annie asked.

“Not yet. After the gig we’ll have to tell him,” Buzz replied, and sat with a thud behind his drum set.

Gary counted off the intro to their second set. The stage lights came back up and illuminated them for the second half of their act.