Little Spirit

by DaNeo Duran

  Calvin’s throat constricted. He almost felt sick wondering what they’d got themselves into. It certainly didn’t seem worth losing a father for. Danny looked aghast. Even Austin who supposedly knew all this seemed melancholy.

  ‘Wow,’ Raphael said with a near laugh. ‘It’s going to be quite an adventure yes?’

  Richard smiled. ‘We’ll see. There’s no doubt I’ll get a deal which will at least keep the wolves from the door. It’s just a shame that despite having the best weapon to date we’re merely tilting at windmills.’

  * * *

  Nobody felt like busking after leaving the office. Austin headed back to Kings Cross after they’d listened to the remainder of the recordings. Soon they’d have their very own mastered white label album. Rather than celebrate they headed for the tube.

  The band agreed that nobody had promised them chart success. For them the next step would be to sustain themselves financially whilst Richard approached record companies. Freezing wind blew litter along backstreets abandoned by people who’d overspent at Christmas. After the January sales even the high streets would appear quiet.

  They realised the next couple of months would be a struggle but they had a showcase that night and if they played well they could only guess what might happen.

  Wednesday 04th January 1984

  The next day, before her first shift that year Katherine sat in the living room warming by the gas-fire and listened to the band’s bitter sweet tale. The tape Austin had given them played and she couldn’t believe the album would sound even better once mastered.

  The previous night she’d stood alone watching Little Spirit perform to the quietest of audiences. Though they’d played well none of the scruffs present either approached Little Spirit or looked able to progress their careers anyway.

  Outside a gale howled and licked through holes in the single glazing’s putty. Katherine shivered at the thought of even setting foot out the living room let alone braving the journey to the pub.

  Downstairs the front door rattled under the force of the wind or so Katherine thought until a draft came carrying Amy’s voice.

  Jumping up, Danny ran down the stairs to greet and carry her bags before she burst in to receive her welcome home.

  They replayed the album and Katherine left for her shift. Amy soon left to do her poly work.

  The lads wondered what to do. Given that none of them had jobs nobody suggested anything that’d involve spending money. When they busked they hoped people would put their hands in their pockets for change but given the biting storm they knew the public’s hands would remain deep in their pockets. In the end they wrote a song about the weather but knew nobody would ever hear it.

  Richard rang and told them Austin had sent the album for mastering. Having scrutinized each song Richard proposed also cutting Only When it’s Saturday as a 7-inch single.

  In her room Amy had plugged the electric heater in and planned to get under the covers but they’d felt cold to the point of being damp. She procrastinated watching the heater’s bar filament change from rust to brilliant orange. Eventually she got into bed with her books and all her clothes on including shoes.

  Saturday 28th January 1984

  By mid-January Richard received the white labelled albums and singles. He warned the band that as soon as they got through the doors of the majors champagne would flow like a broken toilet, drugs would appear like mildew on basement walls and most dangerously praise would spew from record company mouths. He told them to enjoy it but not to believe it. ‘They take a grain of truth and magnify it to the size of mountains. Don’t let it go to your heads. Believe the contract – but only once it’s signed. Ultimately hard cash is the only truth and usually they’ll snow-blind you with coke and hide, bombarding you with fast flirty females before they let you see any real money. We need the majors but they can be evil. The happier they think they’re keeping you the more money they think they can keep – money that you’re earning them.’

  By the end of January Little Spirit still hadn’t chance to employ Richard’s advice as they’d not seen inside any major record company offices. Richard gave up the expense of showcase gigs as they continued to be poorly attended especially by anyone who mattered. The band felt ridiculous; no one more so than Calvin who’d strut around stages like he would have at a packed Water Rats gig but to no one other than Katherine and a few other unmovable faces. Half way through one set Calvin’s woolly sounding amp lost sound. He had to finish the set with his bass routed through the PA system. Richard reprimanded him, ‘Don’t let that happen again. You were lucky there were so few to witness that.’

  But when Calvin dismantled his amp he couldn’t see any reason for its failing. Two gigs later the sound dropped out again. Fortunately Richard missed that. Again Calvin couldn’t detect any stray wires or oxidised solder.

  * * *

  Given how deserted the parks of London had become the band limited their busking to streets only managing to cobble a few coins for their survival. Raphael’s parents donated bags of groceries which helped.

  Given the lack of audience feedback the band would have struggled to put on good shows but they maintained a seemingly ironic optimism that despite their apparent backslide in popularity, success lay around the corner – or another upcoming one. At least things could only get better.

  Richard had focussed his attention on the labels with most consistent histories of hit production. EMI and Phonogram amongst others had seen Little Spirit in action at showcase gigs and some promised to see them in the future. Those that had seen them stated they couldn’t agree to go ahead until they saw evidence of Little Spirit transforming capacity audiences. Some tentative offers came Richard’s way but he refused them knowing they’d progress no further than other bands he’d signed. Worryingly the general ripples of interest throughout the business flattened with the notion that Little Spirit’s solid rock sound offered nothing new for record buyers. Richard put that to the back of his mind still trusting Austin’s production and the lad’s song writing.

  * * *

  On the last Saturday in January the lads had the year’s first Water Rats gig. The students had returned and workers had their first wages since Christmas. Having wanted to patch up one relationship at least Calvin visited Proper Printing and met first with his replacement before Ian offered an apology. Wishing the band the best of luck Ian promised to maintain their poster and T-shirt arrangement. With that Calvin heavily advertised The Water Rats gig.

  Despite the blustery cold the band greeted people at the venue’s door and did their best encouraging people off the street.

  Amy had missed Little Spirit’s first showcase gig where Katherine had met Richard and his niece Grace. Though Katherine tried she hadn’t penetrated Grace’s shyness. By contrast Amy, who’d largely kept her head down working hard at poly, had come to subsequent showcases and found Grace warming to her with ease and even agreed to meet them with John in a nearby pub before that night’s show where they sat catching up with John’s latest deals before heading to the gig.

  After soundchecking Richard joined the band. ‘I’ve some concern here lads,’ he said dropping small-name magazines on their table. ‘You’re interview responses are awful.’

  Calvin picked up the first local paper and found their interview which had followed another nondescript showcase gig. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked reading.

  ‘That,’ Richard said pointing. ‘You sound like a bunch of goody-good born again Christians.’ Richard looked at Raphael and said mockingly, ‘I never drink. I’m teetotal.’ He looked at Calvin, ‘I’m not looking for love, my girlfriend’s perfect.’ And to Danny, ‘We just wanna make people happy.’

  ’Well it’s the truth,’ Calvin said.

  ‘Nobody cares about the truth. If I was a girl Grace’s age and interested in you I wouldn’t want to read that you’re happy in a relationship. I’d want to know that you’re what I want you to be – available and willing.’
r />   ‘So I’m supposed to lie about Katherine?’

  ‘Just be ambiguous. Never answer questions about your personal life directly especially if they make you sound so un-Rock ‘n’ Roll.’

  ‘Well it’s not like we live like monks,’ Raphael said thinking of his own conquests.

  ‘Brilliant,’ Richard said. ’We don’t live like monks. That’s a great answer. From that readers can make up their own minds as to how outrageous or not you exist. Remember that one.’ He turned to Danny. ‘Don’t use the word “just”. You saying, we “just” want to make people happy, sounds like that’s all you’ve got to give. Say something like we’ll blow your minds or we excite fans in a way they’ll remember forever. Then get on the stage and give them something worth remembering.’

  ’What about Raphael not drinking?’ Calvin asked.

  ‘Turn the boring fact into a positive. Say something like, when we’re on stage we like to be razor sharp – fully focused.’

  ’Just like we do,’ Danny said.

  ‘Right,’ Richard said. ‘Most of Rock ‘n’ Roll is exaggerated nonsense that plays on individuals’ perceptions. You can create illusions of being bad boys, living outrageously without doing a thing. And on that note whilst I don’t care what you do after a show I want you to follow Raphael’s practice of not drinking beforehand.’

  Richard, working early mornings, excused himself for the night.

  Before Little Spirit played John came through the doors looking smug with his entourage of ladies. Pulling his wallet from his jacket he offered to get a round of drinks.

  Amy and Grace chatted exclusively. After returning with the girls’ drinks Katherine watched John head to the bar for his beer where a curious bearded man with dark glasses and trilby sparked a conversation with him. Minutes passed before John shook the man’s hand and walked back with his beer.

  ‘Who was that?’ Katherine asked.

  ‘Says he represents EMG Records.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘I know. I told him I’d heard of EMI and that Little Spirit are signed to GMD but I’ve not heard of EMG. He says they’re just starting out and he’s interested in another band.’

  ‘Oh, which one?’

  ‘He didn’t say; just asked me odd questions about Little Spirit.’

  ‘Yeah, like what?’

  John sipped his pint. ‘His first question was how I knew them, but he was most interested to know why I’d financed them. Then he asked me questions about their potential?’

  ‘Strange approach.’

  ‘Especially as he’s here for another band. He seems too nervous to invest in a band anyway. And when I handed him my business card he took it but shrugged saying he hadn’t got his own printed yet.’

  Katherine watched the man through narrowed eyes. He propped the bar up but had turned away from them with his hat pulled low.

  She forgot the bearded man when the band came in from the cold. Little Spirit looked around the busy room grateful to once again have people to play to before going back stage to warm up.

  Having droned on the first two bands would’ve damaged audience numbers had Little Spirit taken the headline spot any later.

  After a month trying to impress empty rooms Little Spirit ramped themselves full force for the bursting room.

  Near the back wall Amy felt Danny seemed to eyeball the whole room.

  ‘Good evening Water Rats,’ Danny called out as the intro music began its final ascension. ‘Everyone ready for a change in the weather?’ The room roared positively. ‘Right then, here’s Life in the Sunshine.’

  Forgetting the weather and boredom with the previous bands the crowd started jumping. Amy watched bobbing heads and multitudinous arms reaching towards her friends on stage.

  After Life in the Sunshine Calvin thanked the audience. ‘Did everyone have a good Christmas?’ Amy and the crowd shouted yes. ‘Good to be back at work, school or college?’ The crowd told him no, though Amy had been enjoying her study for the first time in three years.

  ‘You don’t need to tell us it’s a drag,’ Calvin said. ‘We know how important it is to put bread on the table and how hard that can be at times.’ The crowd sympathised. ‘This song’s a break from reality with a moment of gratitude for those you love and who love you. It’s called I Can’t Wish.’

  To Amy’s right Stosh mixed the sound. Calvin’s voice soared beautifully above his bass and through the drums and guitar. Amy found herself intent on his lyrics as conjured images of a perfectly fantastic world returned to the chorus saying he couldn’t wish for more than his beloved in his arms. She caught Stosh’s eyes and mouthed, Brilliant sound.

  On stage Calvin meant every word until he had no more to sing. Raphael steered him through the complex rhythm changes leading to the song’s coda.

  Though his amp hadn’t blacked in several gigs Calvin couldn’t miss the sudden drop in volume or the stench of electrical smoke that followed. Croaking the amp made its way to the end of the song.

  Within seconds Danny had stood his Telecaster up and dashed over to pull the amp’s plug from the mains. Calvin tugged every other lead seeing licks of flames. A sharp blow though the amp’s vents extinguishing them.

  Turning back to the still cheering audience he said, ‘Is everyone feeling loved?’ Pointing to his amp he said, ‘Looks like I’m all outta love as far as this ol’ thing’s concerned.’

  Without losing a beat momentum Raphael and Danny cracked into Only When it’s Saturday. As the song lacked bass at the start Stosh, appearing out of nowhere, wired Calvin’s guitar through the support band’s amp.

  At the back of the room Katherine cried to Amy pointing at Calvin’s crippled amp. ‘For God’s sake this is all he needs.’ Dead end ideas raced through her mind. She glanced at John but couldn’t bring herself to ask for a loan after everything she’d been through with him. She looked at Grace. ‘You’re Uncle Richard’s gonna be furious.’

  ‘I won’t tell him,’ she said wide-eyed.

  The band carried on regardless and soon Amy and Grace had lost themselves in the sound of the band and the support act’s borrowed amp.

  Several songs later Calvin took the mic again. ‘It’s great to go nuts but Little Spirit recognise everyone has their vulnerable side and with that it’s with great sensitivity that we bring you our last song, Magic Words.’

  As Raphael’s extraordinary drum rhythm pulsed a respectful hush befell the room. Calvin stepped to the mic and with falsetto height sang, ’I have heard that little voice in your head, it’s saying please help me.’

  As always Katherine felt as she had done on John’s yacht the previous summer. Looking around the venue she knew plenty of listeners would also be lost in emotion. Though she couldn’t see the eyes beneath the trilby she could tell the bearded man to her left had been affected too.

  After Danny’s impassioned guitar solo Calvin took the mic for the final verse. Over denser chords he broke through falsetto into full voice fuelling everyone with strength and optimism singing, ’I can feel your beating heart burning red, I know of your desires.’ Calvin sang another chorus then said, ‘All the ladies in the house sing, You happy.’ The girls sang along with every other female led by Calvin’s high voice. He addressed the men inviting them to join in with lower register. The room sang the simple harmony in a powerful prayer with Danny and Raphael. ‘Beautiful,’ Calvin said. ‘Anyone not singing join in, In this wilderness, I want to make a difference, want to tell you magic words and make you happy.’

  When the band wrapped up they went back stage leaving a crowd of cheering voices intent on blowing The Water Rats’ roof off.

  Raphael said, ‘Best gig of 1984 yes?’

  ‘Best so far,’ Danny agreed. When the noise kept going he said, ‘We’ll have to give them more.’

  The band took the stage and played two more songs but still left the audience wanting. The stage lights went down and the house lights went up as the bell called time at the bar.


  Raphael knew Grace would have to leave right away. Not wanting to miss saying goodbye he stayed on stage where he’d see her. Packing his cymbals he almost missed someone sticking their nose into the back of Calvin’s deceased amp.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Raphael said. ‘What d’you think you’re doing?’

  Sunday 29th January 1984

  The gig’s adrenalin meant Calvin didn’t consider his amp situation properly until the next morning. The previous night’s brief inspection suggested mortal wounding. He’d considered leaving the flaking chipboard box with its frazzled electronics on stage for The Water Rats’ staff to dispose of. Instead Raphael had lumped the flabby speakered carcass onto the van before slamming the doors and driving everyone back to the flat.

  By Sunday lunchtime the friends had gathered in the living room and provided Calvin only two options. He could ask John for a loan he had no means of repaying. Calvin and Katherine rejected that idea. Given John had seen the amp snuff it he’d have offered his help there and then if he’d wanted. The only other option, came from Amy who reckoned she could get a loan from her parents.

  ‘Ze thing is this is a real opportunity.’

  Calvin snapped at Raphael’s sometimes uncanny ability to see the positive. ‘I know the amp was crap and I know anything else will be better but I’m not about to slope off to Amy’s parents for a penny more than the cost of some other inadequate piece of junk.’

  Raphael got up and put his shoes on. He put a firm, reassuring hand on Calvin’s shoulder. ‘Don’t phone anyone yet. I’ll pop back to my mum’s for dinner and even though it’s Sunday I’ll ring Derek at home and see what ze music shop’s got to offer. I’ll be back later. I’m certain I’ll think of something for you.’

  Calvin looked up into the younger man’s eyes and felt like a boy being told by a caring parent that the bullies would be dealt with. ‘Thanks mate. I’m sorry I got a bit short with you. I just feel that since the bust up with my dad everything’s going wrong.’

  ‘Maybe, but Christmas is behind us; people have money again. Ze days should be less cold so we’ll have more luck busking. Richard will find us something. Things are looking up I feel it. We were brilliant last night. We’ve turned a corner I’m sure.’