by Izzy Matias
"So your embarrassing moments have been immortalised?" Amber asks, amused.
"Yeah," I say. "One of my favourites was when we did binocular soccer. Nobody won, but it was a hilarious seeing my mate trying to kick the ball and missing it by a couple of metres."
Amber bursts out laughing.
"The most ridiculous one I had to do was bath in Nutella. I felt sticky for days after that!"
"I bet you smelled delicious," Amber says, and snorts as she laughs.
"You bet." I laugh.
"You have to sign me up," Amber says in between laughs. "It sounds like so much fun." She tinkers around with the piano keys, creating random melodies and sounds.
I continue to talk, hoping that my chatter is what she needs at this moment.
"Come to think of it, you’d be perfect for those kinds of dares. You’re fearless."
"Only because of Cassie," Amber says and gives me a cheeky smile. "She has this effect on people, if you haven’t already noticed."
I nod. "Is it true that she doesn’t date musicians?" If I can’t ask Cassie out right, I need to hear it from someone close to her.
"Unfortunately," Amber says. "It’s not my story to tell, but the lad was a massive prick."
I want more than anything to uncover the story behind this no-musician rule, to find out about the prat who hurt Cassie, but Amber is right: I need to hear it from Cassie.
"Hang in there, mate." Amber gives me a sly smile. "You may have a chance."
"Thanks." It’s a mystery for another day. "I’ll wait."
When Amber plays with more confidence, I grab my guitar and complement her melody with my choice of chords. She smiles.
"See, we don’t sound half as bad, do we?" I say.
We build a momentum. We twist, turn and blend notes, chords, and keys. It reminds me of that jam session with Eric and Benji the day they agreed to be in the band. I don’t feel so terrified of debuting as The Fortunate Only if it means we are beacons of hope. We risk our moments of vulnerability in the hopes of being the strength that other people need in their moments of doubt and loneliness.
"Thank you, Cameron," Amber says when we finish our spontaneous session.
"Maybe you’ll be composing songs on this thing one day," I say.
"Maybe." She says it with certainty.
An idea crosses my mind. "If you're willing to step out of your comfort zone sooner than you think, I have a proposition," I say and give her the details.
I like this person I’m becoming. I never thought that stepping out of the shadow of being in other bands—bands that didn’t work out—and committing to music full time would lead to a different, more positive way of thinking. To other people, moments like these might seem insignificant or small, but to me, it’s progress.
#
Once Benji and Eric return, we head to the seashore. I prefer the smell of trees to the salty breeze, but can’t deny it’s a beautiful place to write music—albeit the gloomy skies. As soon as I told them I had a song brewing, Eric grabbed our gear.
We find a flat surface and collapse on one of Lily’s borrowed mats. This is the best makeshift studio we can do with our steel-stringed acoustic guitars and Eric’s Cajon.
Benji uses his iPhone to record whatever is the product of this impromptu recording session until we find a proper studio when we get back to Beverley.
I can’t believe we’re actually attempting to record outdoor whilst on tour.
When the music summons, there’s no way I can refuse its call.
I explain to them the melody in my head: it starts out with our acoustic guitars and builds up as we approach a cliff, and then once the drop happens, we switch to the clean mode on electric guitar.
"I’ve been thinking loads about what happened last night," I say as I take out Benji’s black notebook. There's the bare bones of a new song in there. "How music helped Lily. We normally write songs for ourselves, but what if we do something for her?"
"You mean write her a love song?" Eric bats his eyelashes at me.
"Sod off, Eric. I'm being serious." I hand them the black notebook.
Benji takes the notebook and reads. His eyes light up. "It's a great idea!"
Eric laughs and leans closer to Benji to take a look at what I wrote. After initial feedback and a bit of tweaking, we decide to play the song in its entirety.
Benji nods then taps his guitar, counting down.
We combine simple chords and from there dissect them into complex note-plucking. Eric gives suggestions that mould the melody into a better one and give it an indie rock feel, but something is still missing as I sing the outro.
"We’ve only stuck to guitars and percussion, but what if…" I begin, thinking about the missing instrument.
"What?" Eric looks at me expectant and I explain my idea for the second time today. They take it with enthusiasm and I ring Amber on her mobile asking her to join us at the beach.
"You know that movie Begin Again?" Benji asks as we wait for Amber. "Well, we can take inspiration from that. Record one original song live at each gig and then upload it online right after. The Hush Society has their own YouTube page anyway, so we could link it up with them."
"That’s brilliant." Eric claps. "Or create our own channel. I can help with the marketing plan."
"I don’t know… that would make it so raw," I say, doubting. Live recordings show everything: the flaws, mistakes, background noises...
"That's the point, though," Eric says. "No autotune. It’s music, unedited. Honest. Raw."
"No room for error," I say, turning pale.
"Look, we can see how it goes tonight," Benji says. "Let’s polish the heck out of this song and see if your little idea can see the light."
"We already have a couple originals we can play tonight," Eric adds. "The songs we've been working on since Beverley."
"It would be a perfect way to launch our website," Benji exclaims.
"We have a website?" I ask.
Wow. This lad’s been thinking way ahead.
#
There’s a whole volunteer crew—comprised of Lily’s mates—who showed up mid-morning to help arrange the place into what it is now. White lights hang in all corners of the room. Our beds—the couches—have been pushed back to make room for mats, colourful pieces of cloth, and pillows of all shapes and sizes. The windows are open, so the summer breeze though quite chilly surrounds the loft. There’s loads of equipment too: cords, amplifiers, and speakers throughout the room. Lily even rented a high-quality sound system that has Eric drooling and spitting out technical jargon to the sound engineer (also hired).
There are three performances tonight: Amber Skye opening the floor, The Fortunate Only, and then James Watson. I haven’t heard of him or his music yet, so I can’t wait to discover his sound.
Amber has been MIA since the last time we saw her at the beach. It’s 7:25 and the e-mail invites said the show starts at 7:30. There’s barely twenty people in the crowd, not counting Lily’s mates. I shouldn’t expect much, but comparing it to Tokyo Drift and The Verve’s turnout, the attendance is low.
I jump as my mobile vibrates in my pocket.
Jeez.
This is why I leave technology at home, but whilst on tour, I’ve no choice but to keep it on me the whole time.
I slide the Blackberry out of my pocket. I’ve got well wishes and good-luck messages from Judy, Nate, Dan, Ella, Mum, and Tamara.
I open Tamara’s first.
Good luck, little bro! xx Hope everything goes smashingly well. How’s the turnout?
I reply: Less than 20 in the crowd, but I shouldn’t expect a sold-out show, ey?
Tamara: You’ll be selling out the O2 one day ;)
"I apologise, Cassie. Everything’s flipped," Lily says. I put my mobile away and look at her. She looks like she’s about to cry. "The turnout’s so low. All the glitches this afternoon…"
"Don’t worry about it," I say and pat her back. Maybe the stress of plann
ing this was the cause of her attack last night.
"You can’t expect your first show to be smooth sailing," Cassie says. "None of the shows ever are. And that’s okay. It doesn’t have to be perfect." She flashes me a grateful smile.
"There’s no room for fun in perfection," I say. "It’s the mess, the chaos where you find extraordinary things."
I turn my attention back at the crowd—there are different shades of emotions throughout the room: excited, jittery, but mostly anticipation. They don’t know what to expect—heck, they don’t even know who is performing. That is the beauty of these secret shows. Let the curiosity lure them in and hopefully they discover musical acts they love.
There are almost thirty in attendance by now. I glance at the vinyl clock that reads quarter to eight. Lily waits for more people to arrive, but I want to tell her that it’s best we get on with it. We’re already late.
"Where is Amber?" I ask, my voice higher than normal. It doesn’t seem like her to be the type to chicken out on us.
"She’s in Lily’s room, trying to banish all her pre-show jitters," Cassie replies.
"I’m right here." Amber emerges from behind me and I jump. She laughs loud and most of our audience glances at us. "Don’t worry, Cameron," she says before slinking towards the makeshift stage and then winks at me.
"What was that about?" Cassie raises her brow.
"Jealous?" I laugh, nudging her with my elbow.
Cassie gives me this "bugger-off" look but follows it up with a wry smile.
"You’ll see," I say mysteriously.
"Ahem, good evening everyone. My name is—err—Lily Baker. Sorry we’re a little behind on schedule… Erm. Welcome to Brighton’s first ever Hush Society gig. That’s episode one for us, but the thirty-fifth show in the grand scheme of things!" Lily tugs at her hair while saying her little speech.
We hoot and cheer for her. She gives her best to make this as smooth as can be. In her own way, she tries to be brave. She steps out of her comfort zone—she’s a wallflower after all—but she here she is standing in front of a crowd, putting herself out there all because of her love for music.
For this community.
For this cause.
Every day, I’m surrounded with people who fight their own battles. Try to be brave and overcome their demons.
Ever since I had stepped into the world of The Hush Society, I realized I've been carrying around the weight of fear and rejection—not to mention self-inflicted comparison with every musician I meet. It’s been holding me back, but tonight I won't let it.
"Our first performer is from Manchester. She’s a musical masterpiece and shining star. She let music be her guiding light. Please welcome Amber Skye." Lily smiles, seeming more comfortable with the attention now that the attention is on Amber.
Amber takes the centre stage and sits on a high stool. The single spotlight emphasises the stage’s solemn mood.
"How’s everyone doing?" Amber taps her guitar. "So glad you came out to the first ever Brighton T.H.S. EP! Ya’ll are awesome for supporting local. Here’s an original called ‘Flames.’"
She strums her ukulele, creating a happy pop beat. Her tunes are perfect for the summer.
When she finishes her first song, the audience bursts into applause. She follows it up with a song called "Sidelines"—the one she sang at Tokyo Drift.
The audience is eating up her performance. So far they’ve been giving positive feedback. There really is something special about this community. How you can meet someone for the first time, or be at your first ever Hush Society gig, and feel right at home.
I gulp. Amber has two more songs and then it’s time for The Fortunate Only to unveil itself to the public.
I excuse myself and head towards my mates. They’re off in one corner. For anyone who doesn’t know them, it looks like they’re on looney pills, jumping and dancing to Amber’s quirky, sometimes melancholic music.
When I reach them, Eric pulls me and Benji into a huddle. I’ve seen him do this countless times with his previous bands, but it feels different now that I’m a part of their huddle, like I’ve always belonged here. It has always been the three of us, growing up and mucking about together. Now we’re creating a different kind of carry-on. As The Fortunate Only.
"No going back now, ey?" I say as our heads bump against each other inside the huddle.
"I’m so pumped!" Eric half whispers, half shouts.
Benji stays quiet, but has a fat grin on his face.
"Whatever happens, happens," I say, finally feeling the pre-show excitement.
Some musicians feel that wave of terror right before going on stage, but the same cannot be said for me. First, I get that feeling when I down two shots of expresso, like my nerves are shot and I can do anything, be anything. After the riot has passed, I get this sense of peacefulness, as if this is the only thing I’m meant to be doing in this moment.
I zone out everything around me—I close my eyes and somehow manage to tune out the sounds around me.
When I open my eyes, Benji and Eric grin. I nod and grab our instruments stashed on the side, ready for what comes next.
"Thank you! I’m Amber Skye. Up next is an exclusive: we’ve got a musical debut right here on The Hush Society stage." Amber beams and bows before walking off the stage, taking her stool with her.
The tech crew sets up our gear as we approach the imaginary line that divides performer from listener. We pass Amber, who wishes us luck. Cassie gives us a hug each.
We set up a tripod from the back and Cassie’s tiny Fujifilm camera, which we borrowed to capture our performance, particularly our first song "Electrified," which will also be our debut single on the website. It’s going live in a few days if everything goes as planned, meaning we record a good performance and Benji is able to polish the video with his editing skills.
I take the centre stage and sling my electric guitar around my neck. Eric sits on his throne and Benji, with his electric guitar, positions himself behind the piano synthesiser to my left.
I move right as Lily approaches us and stops in front of the microphone. Up close, I can see traces of nervousness—the way her weight shifts from left to right and her tight grip on the stand. "I’m one with you guys when I say that this is going to be my first time hearing a full set. From what I heard during sound check earlier, you’ll want to keep this next act on your radar."
We plug our cords into the amplifiers and nod at Lily.
She looks at me, smiling, and says, "I’ll keep this short. Please welcome The Fortunate Only from Beverley, East Yorkshire!"
I wink at her as she returns the microphone on the stand.
"What’s up, Brighton?" I say.
A couple of people answer me back with whistles and cheers.
"So you may have heard, this is our debut gig. I’m so grateful to have my best mates with me on stage: Benji Stone on rhythm guitar and keys, and Eric Baker on the drums. The Hush Society is such a special community. Welcome to the tribe, Brighton!"
At my last word, Eric counts down with his bass pedal and clicks his sticks together. Benji and I simultaneously enter—me with funky electric guitar strumming to accompany his keys. After one stanza of this, Eric enters with his powerful percussions, tying our elements together to give it that indie-rock feel.
Originally Benji was the bassist, what with his love for the instrument, but with the sound we’re going for, we wanted to try something different. Being the virtuoso that he is, he’s doing both rhythm guitar and piano synthesising. He can even play the harmonica and almost learned how to play the saxophone. A musical beast!
I’m still debating if I want a fuller sound when we record, but we would need a bassist for the live performances, so right now we’re seeing how this goes.
I close my eyes. The energy vibrates around me. It’s in my hands, my fingers…flowing from my body to my guitar.
The crowd claps along to the beat and my eyes flash open to observe their smiling face
s. I smile back and sing the intro.
I jump up and down, almost wanting to shout the lyrics of this angsty, anthemic chorus. I punch my fist in the air as we sing a line repeatedly before entering the bridge.
Doubt and fear threaten the spark
Don’t let them keep you in the dark
They say magic isn’t real, but right here on this stage, it’s as if every bit of magic is alive—it’s in the energy of this room.
The music is the magic.
We are the magic.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
We play two cover songs—The Gramophones’ "Explode" and The Kook’s "Naïve." I would have preferred to have our whole set with originals, but alas, three songs were all we could churn out in the few weeks we had. We’re still figuring out what genre we want our sound to be and if it’s possible to have a mix of R&B and indie rock.
"Wow," I say.
Lily sways beside Cassie.
This is it.
The last song; our third original. It’s a raw version, but there is no better time to debut it than now.
We trade our electric guitars for acoustic ones. Benji pulls a stool beside me, leaving his Nord Electro keyboard empty.
"So," I say, "we wrote a little something inspired by the events over the last twenty-four hours."
I strum whilst Benji plucks a haunting, mellow beat. I close my eyes for the nth time tonight, channeling the emotion of the song.
Brick walls find no comfort with the deafening mind
The voices, they scream the worst case scenario
If solace is what you seek, it is not what you shall find
You’ll wish for static over the broken stereo.
On cue, the piano comes to life, but it isn’t Benji behind the keyboard—it’s Amber.
Someone in the crowd gasps. A teary-eyed Cassie covers her mouth with her hand. Lily also looks as if she’s about to cry. She latches onto Cassie’s other hand.
My eyes lock on Lily as I sing the chorus.
The world is at your fingertips
Take a deep breath
Close your eyes
