Chapter 7: Meeting Martin
I picked up the phone.Hello? I said.
Dan, is that you?
Who is this? I asked.
I can't tell you, they might be listening.
Who's listening? Who the f--k is talking? I asked.
Quiet down Dan, its Shawn. He whispered.
Shawn. I said. We're not f--king doing this again.
Dan, no, it's not that. Shawn said.
I contemplated hanging up. Well then what the f--k is it Shawn.
Shawn paused. I think they're watching us.
I sighed. Who the f--k would watch you?
Shawn paused again. The police.
The police? I said, laughing.
Dan, stop laughing, quiet down. Shawn said. We're not sure if it's the police or if its Phil's guys, but we're all holed up in our house with the blinds closed.
I sat down on my desk, picturing the three members hiding beneath a pillow fort. You know Shawn, I think you're right. I said, mockingly. I heard Phil found out who shit on his porch, and I also think I've been followed to work the last couple days.
Are you serious Dan? Shawn said, whispering nervously.
Dead serious Shawn, in fact I think I've seen a couple dark vans around the office lately. I said.
Shit Dan, what are going to do? Shawn asked.
I tried to contain my laughter. I don't know Shawn, I can barely keep the secret much longer. Do you think we should just confess?
Shawn breathed heavily into the phone. I'm not sure Dan, shit I'm just not sure! I'm a drummer, not a criminal mastermind.
I know, neither am I Shawn. I said, rolling my eyes. But we have to do something, I can't live with being tailed my whole life.
We should just confess. Shawn said. He can't be that mad, can he? It was just a couple of burning bags of shit in his mail box.
You're right, he just might forgive us. I said.
Shawn began to mutter to the rest of the band. Yeah, that's what we'll do, we're okay with it.
I looked up to see Christine standing in my office doorway with a confused look on her face.
Shit, Shawn, I think someone's here. I said, while hitting the phone on the desk. Shawn, f--king help! Someone's here! They're kicking the door in.
Dan! What should I-
I ripped the phone line out of the wall before Shawn could finish.
What the hell are you doing Dan? Christine said.
Nothing sugar tits, just making the band believe I'm dead. I said.
She rolled her eyes and turned to walk out of the office. You're an idiot.
I leaned back in my chair as she left the office.
Sex on my desk? I yelled, receiving no response.
I sat behind my desk, staring at a spitting image of Neo from the matrix. His long, pasty, lanky frame almost disappeared in the leather office chair he occupied, as he sat upright and awaiting my voice.
So, you want to produce the album. I asked.
He stared at me with blank, dreamlike eyes. I do not want to produce the album. Want is for the weak, I simply must produce this album.
I studied his face in awe. So you must produce this album. He stood up and walked around the dark, dry-wall covered office. Yes, I must. I must produce this album. He said, throwing his hands into the air and forming shapes with his motions. There are certain molecular currents that govern us all, and my currents echo and flow in this album.
I mockingly rested my head on my chin. Tell me more. He smiled and turned his head, keeping his back towards me. There is an energy that is buried in music. Buried deep within the notes that are the patterns you hear; the shell that encloses the energy.
I stared at him with eyes of inspiration, but what were actually eyes of not giving a shit. Okay.
And every musical entity. He said. Needs a gatekeeper. Not a person to keep the gate closed, but a shepherd to find the right musical sheep in the herd, and allow them to pass through the gate.
As he was spitting his improvised bullshit, I Google image searched pictures of Keanu Reeves and was instantly amused.
And you think you are the one? I said.
He walked towards me, placing his scrawny hands on the edge of the desk. By god Daniel Grant, I promise you that I am the one. I will be the one to shepherd The Halves, the one to break their energy shell, and the one to canal their entity.
I was temporarily unable to find the words to speak to this kid. And Neo- I mean Martin, what experience do you have in the production field? I said, ready for a full bull shit response.
He reached into the pocket of his tattered jeans and pulled out a folded piece of paper. As you can see. He said, while unravelling the paper. That my credentials are quite respectable.
I quickly looked through the resume, and was instantly shocked at the actual legitimate credentials that lay before me. I'm going to be honest Martin, I really took you for a kid who just used downloaded pro tools on his new Mac.
He swiftly sat back into his chair. Of course you did. He said, touching his finger tips together. You are a primitive human being Daniel, with emotions, raw currents, and feelings that govern your every move. You see a shape that reflects light and you instantly pass judgement, and sometimes the image is up to the eye of the beholder, which is often biased and flawed.
I was beginning to tire of his first year psychology explanations, as even the results from my Keanu Reeves image search were no longer giving me a distraction. Alright, Martin, you have some decent experience. But I have a lot of friends in the industry who could offer the guys more, so what makes you different?
I instantly regretted the question as Martin stood up for another soliloquy. What makes me different Daniel? He mused. Well, what is different? Different can be something that is not the same, or something that is not normal, or something that is completely unexplainable. I prefer to consider my difference as the latter, as the unexplained. What I do with sound, with imagery, with taste, is completely unexplainable. I forge and push for things completely unknown, for things completely terrifying.
Martin! I said, interrupting him.
Yes Daniel? He asked, returning to his seat.
I placed my head on my desk. Seriously, shut the f--k up.
One can never be ultimately silenced Daniel, for our thoughts dance and cheer inside our mind in every spatial second of every moment. He said.
With my head still on my desk, I raised my hand to quiet him. Martin, listen.
I am now all ears, Daniel. He said.
Two things. Number one, if you stop f--king talking, I'll give you the f--king job. I said.
He clapped. Oh Daniel, all though the premises are not what I truly yearned for, I am happy to take the job.
Second. I said, interrupting him. Well actually, two more things. Stop calling me f--king Daniel. It's Dan, just f--king Dan.
If that is what you yearn for. He said.
I interrupted him again. Yes whatever, it's what I f--king yearn for. Now the final thing, get the f--k out of my office so I don't have to hear you talk.
He began to walk towards the door. Your primitive yearnings burn in every crevice on your face, Dan.
I leaned back in my quiet office as Martin disappeared into the hall. I deserve to f--k Christine now.
Lacey walked into the cold, four concrete walls that made up the green room of the Tin Can.
How was the show? She asked.
I leaned forward. Fantastic as always Lacey, really good.
She began taking off her various earrings and necklaces. Is that all you say Dan?
I looked at her, with confusion written all over my face. What do you mean?
She sat down and looked at me in the mirror from her makeup booth. There's no thought to anything you say, it's all mindless compliments.
I rolled my eyes. Well then what the f--k do you want me to say Lacey.
She still stared at me in the mirror. Nothing, cause I don't know why your here.
I stood up and paced the small room. Because you're my god damn client, Lacey.
I was Jordan Mason's client. She said. And he didn't come to all my events.
I swore under my breath. I know, you've told me twenty f--king times.
Then Dan, answer my twenty first question. Why are you here? She asked.
Because. I said. This is how I did it in the old days, and since you're my first client that's actually got a f--king dollar to their name, I try to make it out to these things as much as possible.
Jordan said you didn't really have much going on. She said, while picking at her nails.
I laughed and sat down. Nope, I really don't. He's right.
She finished inspecting her nails and walked towards the door. Well, I don't really believe that's why you come out to all my events.
Well then why don't you f--king tell me why you think I come to all your events? I asked from my seat.
She closed and locked the door. Because. She said, as she slowly pulled off her shirt.