Blazed (30 page)

I don't say anything, though. It's weird. But I don't wanna assume anything, so I just follow Eddie down the stairs.

Me and Eddie, we do our shots of whiskey real quick and then pop into the Vicious Lips room. The band's all in there with Jamal and Dominique's mother and Mark's girlfriend, this babe with long black hair and bangs cut crooked across her forehead, who looks like she wants to look like Karen O and that's totally fine by me.

There's one girl in there just snapping a ton of photos of the band, and this other guy is holding a video camera.

“Okay,” he says. “You guys ready?”

And everyone in the band says they are.

Me and Eddie, we look at each other and shrug. They don't go on for another ten minutes. Even all the way down here, the anticipation and the noise and the house music (“Such Great Heights” by the Postal Service) just vibrate through the walls and through the floor.

King Krule is a huge band right now. There's a ton of industry people hanging around the hallway and in their room. Eddie's the one who tells me they're industry people.

“All those press passes and sleazy, asshole-looking dudes in suits smelling like they bathed in a tub of shitty cologne,” he says. “That's how I know.”

I'm, like, nervous for Dominique. For Mark and Keisha. For all of us who know them. This is a way bigger deal than I ever imagined it would be. It's a massive thing. Every last hair on my body is standing straight up because of the energy and anticipation swarming through my gut like a million bees.

Keisha and Dominique sit down alongside Mark now on this leather sofa. Dominique's in the middle. Mark's girlfriend hands Dominique an acoustic guitar. Keisha's already holding one, and Mark has a tambourine in his hands.

“Whenever you guys are good,” Mr. Cameraman says, “just start playing.”

Dominique looks up at me and winks. This small grin cuts to the left of her face. Then she looks at Keisha and then Mark and she nods and counts off. . . .

“One, two, one, two, three, four . . .”

Vicious Lips starts playing. It takes me about ten seconds to finally recognize the song they're performing. Eddie, too. Cos he turns to me right as I'm about to turn to him and he goes, “Mazzy Star.”

“ ‘Look on Down from the Bridge,' ” I say. “Fuck. My mother used to listen to this song late at night all the time. She'd just play it over and over and over, looking out the window of our living room. It's beautiful. My mother always looked so beautiful when she listened to it.”

When Dominique starts singing, fucking chills slam down my spine and I get dizzy from it. I just watch her sing and play guitar. Her eyes are closed. She's singing from the bottom of her heart. Her mother is crying as she watches her, and Jamal, finally that dude smiles. How can you not? This is mesmerizing. Stunning. This . . .

“Everybody seems so far away from me, everybody just wants to be free . . .”

Immediately after those words leave her mouth, Dominique finally opens her eyes and looks right at me and smiles. Eddie nudges me and my heart is fucking melting.

Like, holy shit!

Holy shit!

I think I'm in fucking love with this girl.

Holy fucking shit, man!

ME AND EDDIE ARE STANDING
off to the side of the stage and to the back of it in the all-access area. We can see the entire space from here. See all the happy fucking kids just packed in and laughing and waiting.

I don't see Brandon anywhere and when I ask Eddie, he says, “I don't know where he went, man. Dude does that at shows. He wanders. Meets a ton of people. Dances. Laughs. That's his thing, homie. He's out there somewhere with ten new friends and a smile.”

I really like what Eddie just said. You can tell him and Brandon are true friends. That they care for each other and understand each other and let one another be who they are.

Scanning the first couple of rows in the crowd, I see so many babes and they're all sorta looking in our direction, and it's nice to know that the hottest girl here is the one that likes me and isn't lying about it and won't play any mean jokes on me or make me feel like a loser for wanting to be with her so badly.

The house lights dim suddenly. Then the whole room goes black, and everyone starts screaming and
whistling and clapping while that Cage song “I Found My Mind in Connecticut” from his album
Depart from Me
starts bumping.

“Sick!” Eddie yells. “So dope!”

Me, I'm clapping and right when the chorus starts . . .

“Every morning I just lay in bed cause I don't wanna wake up, pick my stupid face up, give my shit away . . .”

This flashlight cuts across the floor and out walks Vicious Lips, and they take the fucking stage to an applause and an appreciation that I've never come close to witnessing before.

It's so special.

And they deserve it all and probably so much more.

When the lights are brought back up a tiny bit, there's my girl standing front and center on the stage behind her keyboard synth, next to a blue-and-white Gretsch guitar lying in a stand, a tambourine hanging from a hook on the side of the synth.

Keisha is to her right and Mark is set up on his sick drum kit to her left, but he's facing both of them.

After a few seconds of her checking her gear, the applause begins to die and she leans forward into the microphone and says, “Thank you so much . . . wow.” She looks like the happiest person in the history of the world. They all do. And then she says, “Thank you all so much for coming out tonight.”

Some girl in the crowd yells, “We love you!” and people
cheer again and Dominique laughs and says thank you one more time, then “We're Vicious Lips from right here in San Francisco. This first song's called ‘The Fury and the Night.' ”

Dominique rips her cardigan off now, and then it begins. And, like, a minute later this entire place is fucking jumping and ten times more alive than it was when we walked in.

• • •

About halfway through their third song, “Wet Kisses,” I look to my left and see Jamal walking toward me.

I ain't nervous, though. Like, her mother gave me another hug after the first song was over and told me how impressed she was with me from all the things Dominique has told her so far.

“What's up, man,” I say.

He stands right next to me and crosses his arms.

“It's so good,” I say next.

“Yeah it is, man. My sister is special. She's the most talented and caring person I've ever met, and that includes my momma.”

“She's great,” I say. “She really is.”

“I'm glad to hear that from you,” he snorts. “Cos that girl on stage, dancing and slamming on that keyboard and ripping the crowd to pieces with that angel-like voice, that girl is too good for anyone.”

I look up at him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, man. You know exactly what I said, and it's the truth and you know it too.”

I don't say anything.

“If she was as smart as we know she is, she wouldn't be messing around with no dudes ever. She'd just focus on her music and get big and then deal with all the dicks later.”

“Hey, man,” I snap.

“What?” he snaps.

Eddie hears that and steps towards us. “Yo, Jaime, what's up?”

“This don't concern you, homie. Stay the fuck back.”

“Fuck you.”

I put my hands on Eddie's shoulders and say, “Relax, man. It's fine.”

“Asshole,” I hear Eddie mumble.

Turning back to Jamal, I go, “Listen, man. Dominique is amazing, and that's how I'm treating her.”

“Good,” he says. “And it better stay that way, because if you fucking hurt her in any way, if you ever lie to her or talk shit about her or doing something funny behind her back and make her sad or make her cry, I promise you I will track you down and take you out. She's the most important person in my life, and I will protect her and defend her with force.”

“Okay, dude. I got it.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“I will ruin you if you make her cry.”

“Dude,” I say, throwing my arms in the air. “I got it. She ain't gonna cry from anything I do.”

“Jamal!”

Dominique's mother yells this at him.

“Get over here,” she says. “Leave that boy alone. I work for his daddy.”

“You should go,” I tell him, smirking.

“That attitude gonna get you hurt,” he says.

“Jamal! Now!” his mother goes.

But before he walks away, he says, “Hurt her or dishonor her in any way and you're a dead man. She's better than you. She's better than all of us.”

Jamal walks away and Eddie puts his arm around my shoulders again and I whisper, “I know, dude.”

I whisper, “She's way better than I'll ever be.”

• • •

The fourth song of the set is a cover of Nada Surf's “Blonde on Blonde,” and me and Eddie freak out. I love this song. It was the fourth song I learned to play on the guitar. So cool they're covering it. This set is insanely fucking good. Me and Eddie, we run to the front of the stage and start singing along with everyone else around us. . . .

“I've got blonde on blonde, on my portable stereo . . .”

Hearing half a crowd this big, so maybe four hundred people, singing along with you has gotta be such a monster fucking thrill. And when the song is over, I look over my shoulder and see Brandon making out with that guy he bumped into earlier.

I'm shocked to see this. Stunned, I guess.

I grab Eddie by the shoulder and say, “You see that, man?”

“What?”

“That,” I say, pointing.

“Oh yeah. What about it?”

“I mean nothing, I guess. I just didn't know he was gay.”

“He ain't. Dude flips both ways, but he's been into boys a lot more recently. It's all good. That dude loves to suck some cock,” Eddie says, then walks over to this girl who's been making eyes at him all night long and starts talking to her.

• • •

The last song of the set is this new one they wrote a couple weeks ago called “In the Time of the Horned Lions,” and it rips better than any other of their songs in my opinion and flows better too. The tone is perfect, and it's got some edge. Dominique played it for me at her crib yesterday right before I left.

I'd say it'd find a nice home anywhere on Beach House's
Bloom
record.

Or on any Blouse record, for that matter.

“So we just wanna thank you all so much again for coming here and supporting us tonight. It means everything to us. Vicious Lips loves you all. This is our last song and it's a new one. King Krule is up next . . .”

The song starts and about thirty seconds later, she sings,

“Kingdom come, then kingdom go, these city lights, this neon glow,
reaching far and running fast, these lions eat what they can catch, the days they move, the nights they fly, perfume, makeup, pretty skies, lions sleep and lions grin, steal the air, and you will win . . .”

Chorus: “
Wilderness, and beasts, the makings of a feast, horned and angry lurking by, these lions hurt, these lions die . . . In the time of them . . . In the time of them . . . In the time of them, this whole time we've been . . . alive . . .

“Trees full of peaches, a young girl rips them off, somewhere in Los Angeles, these junkies rob a loft, people come and people go, you forget all their names, it ain't important, it's really nothing, you're just living for the day, so twirl baby twirl, your smile fills the sky, these lions they're a-coming, don't forget to kiss me bye . . .

“Wilderness, and beasts, the makings of a feast, horned and angry lurking by, these lions hurt, these lions die . . . In the time of them . . . In the time of them . . . In the time of them, this whole time we've been . . . alive . . .

“Love won't save the world, love won't save these lions, you make your feasts and drink your wine, and stop your fucking crying, please baby please, she begged, just come back to me, she gets down on her knees but he still fucking leaves, these lions eat, these lions sleep, this world it never stops, and it's cool and it's fun, our lives they're worth a lot . . .

“Wilderness, and beasts, the makings of a feast, horned and angry lurking by, these lions hurt, these lions die . . . In the time of them . . . In the time of them . . . In the time of them, this whole time we've been . . . alive . . . alive . . . alive . . . through thick and thin and ugly shit we're all still alive . . . alive . . .”

The lyrics are great. Some of the best lyrics I've heard by any band in a while. But the best part of the song is right after the last chorus ends, when Dominique finally grabs that Gretsch, throws it over her shoulder, and slams her foot on the pedal and starts shredding with Keisha for about two minutes. This killer riff that rips through the crowd. It reminds me of the “Outro” on the M83 record
Hurry Up, We're Dreaming
, when that guitar just cuts in like a knife does to skin and bleeds all over anyone listening.

When the song finally ends, the band walks offstage to thunderous applause and Dominique, she runs over to me and hugs me and kisses me and before I follow her down the stairs, I take a nice, long look around at all the people staring at me, jealous of me, wishing they were me because my fucking girlfriend just owned seven hundred people for forty-five minutes and did whatever she wanted to them. Made them drink blood out of her hands and got them all turned on.

“WHERE ARE WE?” I ASK
Dominique. “Are we even in the city anymore?”