by Nick Apuzzo
"You never imagined this as a possibility?" Tommy asked.
"It never entered my mind bro. Anyway, regardless, it's here and I'm trying hard not to think too much…I'm trying to see how it feels. I'm with Nick and Ingy, I'm not against it, but I do feel conflicted." Jimmy took his feet from the table and planted them on the floor "My uncle was over and we were talkin' about the Police Academy. I'm not saying I've made up my mind, but it's on the table. Everything else Nick said goes for me too though. I'm just not sure."
Jimmy looked at Sean "What do you think Sean?"
Sean was silent for a long time, and when he spoke, I felt it reflected well on his band management mindset.
"Well, it sounds like we have some reservations about the important questions. See…I think some bands might jump right in and have issues with the deal they sign with the record company. We're doing something smarter than that, we're talking about the…the foundation, we're discussing whether we all want to play for the rest of our lives…for a living." he smiled "And I think that's really great, because if we never work out the answer to that question, the rest would never work out in the long run. Right?"
Everyone nodded but no one said anything.
"I think we should talk to the guy, and just not commit to anything. Let him know that we…we want time to feel it out." he smiled "Hey, ya know…it's great to have OPTIONS guys."
"Yeah, you're right. He's right guys. This is only something positive." I said
"I think we should only speak with one voice." I said "I mean that I don't think anything good can come out of anyone outside of the band knowing who has what reservations and why, versus who has no reservations. I say we keep that within the band. No leakage. If I'm alone in that I'll do whatever the rest of you want."
"Very good point. We're one band, not a group of individuals." Jimmy said.
Tommy, Kenny and Ingy agreed.
"Everyone OK with it then?" Sean asked.
Ingy raised his hand "I have a question."
"Ingy has a question, OK what's up?" Sean asked.
"Why does Nick wear silk undergarments beneath his stage clothes?"
"So they don't chafe." I shot back "Why does Ingy wear ass-less leather chaps to bed...THAT'S the real question."
Sean said "Idiot alert…time to practice."
Track 16
Ti Amo
Venice had quit the restaurant to take on an extra load of credit hours at Rutgers in order to graduate one semester early; she's an English major and all I'd ever paid attention to in school was math and science, so we had nothing in common as far as our education went…yet we always seemed to have plenty to say to each other. After the meeting I left the studio and told the guys I was tired and needed to catch up on some sleep; in fact I drove over to Venice's house.
I'd met Venice's parents several times; each time I picked her up I always went in to say hello. They were very nice people. Her father's family emigrated from northern Italy in the early 1900's, settling in Newark, New Jersey; his family worked in the vineyards and wineries back in the old country. In addition to English, her dad spoke Italian and French; his parent's home town virtually bordered France and they spoke all three languages around the house when he was growing up. Peter, Venice's dad, was born in Newark and became a firefighter, retiring after thirty years. He was a thoughtful, easygoing guy and it was hard for me to picture this soft spoken man charging into a flaming building. It goes to show ya', never judge a book...
Venice's mom's family emigrated from County Cork, Ireland to the United States in the mid-1800's at the start of the Potato Famine, and settled in New York City. Venice's mom, Aileen, was a grand daughter to those settlers and her branch of the family had moved into New Jersey in 1930. Venice's mom was a real sweetheart, and it was easy to see that Venice inherited her demeanor. I liked her mom the minute I met her and it seemed to me that she felt the same way about me.
I rang the bell once and Aileen answered the door with a smile.
"Hi Mrs. Perino, is it too late to see Venice?"
"Come in Nick, it's nice to see you again." she said opening the door, then she walked to the stairs and called Venice.
Venice came down a minute later, gave me a hug and asked "Hey, what are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you. Bad time?"
"No it's fine, just working on a project, I'm ahead. Believe me I'm crackin' up, I'm glad you came, I need the diversion."
"All school all the time huh?"
"Don't get me started, I have no life outside of schoolwork." she laughed.
"Well I'm happy to divert you Miss Venice." I said in a southern accent.
I slipped my arms around her waist and delivered a tender kiss. She returned it and somehow knew it was more romantic than sexual. Venice had the best radar for my mood of anyone I'd ever met and she used it as confidently and naturally as breathing air. I was a little in awe of her for that. Now that I had her in my arms a feeling came over me, a kind of 'certainty' that everything would be OK. Women have power that I'll never fully understand.
I'll confess two things that are deeply personal to me. First, I tend to be a little guarded when it comes to committing to anything. I do commit to things, I'm just careful about it, whether it is a band, a relationship or even just a promise. With women, I find it easy to be funny and put them at ease and get things informal; it's easier to build trust that way and have fun. In spite of that, I'm cautious about committing to something.
Second, my view of relationships...or perhaps more plainly, my perception of love, is that it doesn't abide half measures and self-protection. It seems to me that the nature of love is that you push all your chips to the center of the table and take a chance on getting hurt, or you don't. There's no half-position...a 'half position' is 'no position' where love is concerned.
Venice led me outside and we sat on the front steps. The pinkish-orange glare from the streetlight in front of Venice's house made a fat oval of light on the ground that encompassed the street, sidewalk and front of her house. The light pole itself blocked the light that would have shown directly behind it, and Venice and I sat in that swath of shadow on her steps.
"Something's happened." she said, it wasn't a question.
"Yeah. It's nothing bad."
"You're concerned about something though." she said lightly as she took my hand.
"Guy from a record company came to see us." I said "I spoke to him for a few minutes, and we, the band, are going to talk to him tomorrow."
"Well that's good news right?"
"One would think so." I said "We had a band meeting tonight to discuss it ourselves. It was...a little eerie."
She gave a little laugh "Eerie...I'm intrigued. How could a band meeting be eerie?"
"Well, when it was time for me to say my piece, I found I was conflicted about it. I mean this is supposed to be a musician's dream, but I'm not sure I want to do that. And here's the eerie part, Jimmy and Ingy felt the same way. It's bizarre."
"Well what's bizarre about that?"
"I guess I always assumed they'd want it, I mean I never really thought about it, but..."
"But...." she said.
"It made me think of you. I had to come see you. I don't know exactly why."
She looked at my hand "Yes you do." she said gently, her voice barely above a whisper.
I stared at her for a long time, putting it all together and in order inside of my skull. I wasn't thinking as much as feeling, but when I had cleared it all up and felt calm and centered, I realized she was correct.
"I love you." I said.
"I know." she said, as if admitting a secret.
"You knew?" I asked, a bit incredulous.
"As far as a girl can know something like that, yeah, I knew."
"How do YOU feel?" I asked.
"Can't you tell?" she looked at me, her look was so genuine and attractive, and there was so much there...love, respect, a life.
I only nodded since
I didn't trust my voice...this was a lot to handle. All of it good, but it was like winning the lottery, a lot of gratitude wells up inside.
She held both my hands, sandwiched between hers "Look, you don't have to do anything quickly. Make whatever choice you're going to make about YOUR career on YOUR time table, and no one else's. Just take it slowly and trust yourself; I know you'll make the right decision for you, if you take the time to think it through. Don't be rushed; don't allow it."
It was just what I needed to hear since my angst was really caused by my worry that I'd make a decision that I might regret later. I also noticed that she didn't offer an opinion of her own, I was impressed that she recognized it as something I had to decide for myself.
"Did I mention that I love you?" I said with a smirk.
She laughed and planted a deep kiss on my lips, and then as our lips parted she said "You have to get out of here, I have work to do and if you stay it's not going to get done."
I grabbed a quick feel of her breast and said with total intensity, looking deep into her eyes "If you were a Romulan I'd betray the Federation for you!" and held up the Vulcan hand salute.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asked.
"Trying to turn you on! Live long and prosper!" I said getting up, but when I stood my erection was pretty noticeable "Uh oh! My photon torpedo wants to find your Jeffries tube!"
She got up and headed for the door "Aaaaaand that did it. Thanks. My mind is back in the textbook."
We both laughed.
"I'll call you tomorrow Venice Perino."
"OK." she said, with that great smile of hers.
I got in my car, cranked up Ozzy's 'Diary of a Madman' and drove home feeling happy and carefree. I'll say it again 'cause it bears repeating…women have power that I'll never fully understand.
Sean made the arrangements and we met with Doug Brill from Ophion Records at Ray's on Wednesday night. He bought us drinks and we generally made jokes and flirted with the dancers. I thought it uniquely Raw Deal-esque that the stripper bar was the site of our first encounter. After an hour or so of horseplay we moved up to the studio.
I led Doug to a chair and handed him a beer.
"OK now put a foot up on the table and your there." he did so and I said "See? Now you're as close to being one of us as you CAN be, for now."
He smiled "Well thank you. I appreciate it." and took a ceremonial sip of his beer.
Everyone found a seat and Sean began "Doug thanks for the drinks downstairs and because it was on your tab, we made an effort not to break anything. I know you wanted to speak with the band and now that you're here and it's quiet enough..." Sean ended the phrase by gesturing to Doug.
"Well it's true, I wanted to meet you. As you already know I'm with Ophion Records and my job specifically is a sort of 'scout'; I watch the papers, I go to clubs, I ask questions...meet with bands that I think have potential...but I also keep a close eye on the market and the trends, who's on the rise, who's on the decline." he paused to take a sip "I've heard you guys three times now, I noticed the new material, which in my opinion is awesome. You seem stable, responsible and easy to work with; I won't go into how I know, but you might imagine I have my own sources...people I speak to who know first-hand how a band runs its business."
Doug scanned our faces as he expressed his next thought "You may know this, but it's worth hearing directly from me. A record company is first and foremost a business, it spends money only to make money and it exists to make profit. It's not dedicated to artistic integrity or freedom of expression. If Raw Deal and Ophion Records agreed to go into business together, it would be with one aim in mind...to make money. It seems to me that your artistic expression is sought after by an audience; YOU have an audience. It's limited to people who've seen you and heard you, and unfortunately for you, that's a tiny fraction of a percent of the possible national and global markets that might...notice that I said 'might' become part of your audience. There's a lot of risk."
"Like what?" asked Kenny.
"The band could self-destruct...happens far more frequently than most people know, since many do just that before they 'break' in the market. You could be a one hit wonder, or even a two album wonder. You could just be unlucky. You could be uncooperative. You could turn a corner 'creatively' and lose your audience. There's more, but I think you see the point."
No one said anything right away so I decided to jump in and add a little more to the list of risks "Well, yeah, there's definitely more...as far as the record company goes, they could fail to promote us at the right time, or enough, or effectively. They could be greedy and neglectful, there could be compensation issues and travel and touring issues that make living on the road too difficult. They could also try to exercise control over our creative labors. Now this is a big concern of mine because we...Raw Deal...created the audience we DO have now, and we did it because we're creative people. Record company people specialize in the business end of the industry. However the tale is urban legend, the record company, business people, feel they know better than the artist, and that makes no sense to me. It's as if there are two groups separated by a chain link fence, on one side the record company, on the other the band. Each is shouting to the other 'If you'd just do what we ask you, everything will be OK.'"
"Are you SURE you've never been under contract?" Doug asked, prompting laughs all around "Well, I agree with everything you said, so you see, it's difficult to succeed under the best of circumstances." now his attention turned to Sean "What's everyone's work situation."
Sean gave it concisely "Tommy has his own painting business, Jimmy's a union carpenter but is looking at the Police Academy, Kenny's a hell of an artist, in fact he painted all of this..." Sean gestured to the paintings "...but he's not working right now. Nick is an engineer with IBM and Ingy's about to graduate from Fordham University...he's not sure where he's going to wind up. He does some part time work for the engineering company where his father works."
"What about you?"
"I finished my apprenticeship last year; I'm a butcher at ShopValu."
"All employed or very employable...and Kenny, I have to say, I'm really impressed. You have a rare talent." Doug said as he looked around the room."
"He did them ALL in a two and a half day marathon session between practices." Tommy said smiling.
"I found those canvasses in the dumpster..." Kenny began to say.
I cut him off "Oh would you shut up about picking through the garbage already! The thing is that you are amazingly talented, NOT that you got some canvasses for free you crazy bastard." I said and then turning to Doug "He's like a badass bass-playing Van Gogh who won't take credit for anything".
Doug laughed along with us and I was starting to like him. When we met I assumed that since he was with a record company he'd be a total bullshit artist, and even if he didn't seem so, it could only mean that he was an EXPERT bullshit artist. I was slowly changing my mind though.
"Well let's get down to the most important question yet to be asked. Is this something each of you wants to pursue?"
"We can't give you a simple answer, but we can give you an answer." Sean said "There are two groups within the band, some want to go for it without reservation and some who want to take it more slowly because they have some reservations. So everyone is happy about your interest, there's just a difference as to how fast we go about it."
"Actually, that will work out just fine really."
"How so?" Sean asked.
"You guys are doing well, there's no denying that. Your writing is good, there's no denying that either. The best way for us to move forward is to remain in contact, no contract or commitments or anything, as you continue to create new material. Play more of it and see if you can gradually phase out nearly all of the covers from your act." he took a sip of his beer and then continued "When you're playing all original material and are even more popular than you are now, you're essentially an original band without a label and the only path l
eft to take is recording the album and launching the band nationally. Does that make sense?"
"And the negotiation of course." I said.
"Of course." Doug said with a smile.
"So for now, we just keep doing our thing?" Sean asked.
"Yes but if you want this to have a chance of working out, you have to double your efforts on the writing and carefully begin to get more of that writing in front of your audience while keeping your audience. OK?"
Everyone nodded and agreed.
"Any more questions?" Doug asked.
"I've got one." I said, Tommy groaned sensing mischief "Ingy has a busy schedule as a female impersonator. Can we work around his schedule?"
"Come on." Tommy whined.
"Hey it's half my income!" Ingy said, objecting to Tommy's complaint.
"You should see his 'Cher'..." I couldn't help it, my concentration broke and I started laughing.
Doug was chuckling with a quizzical expression, which Ingy and I have seen countless times of course and Sean felt obligated to address it.
"They're idiots." Sean said to Doug.
"We're not idiots, we're artists. We work in human embarrassment the way Picasso worked in oils." Ingy said.
"They ARE idiots Doug. Keep that in mind and you should have no trouble." Sean said.
"Don't you think that's an over-simplification Sean?" I asked.
"Shaddap!" He snapped.
"Eek!" Ingy chirped.
Doug got up and shook everyone's hand, as he was leaving he got to the door and turned "You know why I think there's hope for you guys?"
"Why's that?" Sean asked.
"You asked all the right questions. AND...you didn't ask about the money." he said and then seemed to smile to himself...finally he looked up and said "I'll be in touch."
After Doug left we sat down and were chatting about the prospects. Everyone was in good spirits and after we'd killed perhaps twenty minutes I thought that I should put a stake in the ground.