She gives me a cool, sardonic look. “I think that’s the worst part. It doesn’t seem to matter what we want.”
I don’t even open my mouth to argue with her. The way I felt at having even sweet, loyal Clarence know about us is still churning in my stomach.
“Well, being on tour in different countries will help, I guess,” I offer, but her expression matches my own sense of devastation at the idea.
“Let’s not talk about that,” Pia says in an unusually gentle voice. “We still have a few more hours together.”
“Yes, we do,” I say, and I climb into her lap. “What do you want to do?”
“You,” she says, grabbing me and rolling us over so she’s lying on top of me. “I want to do you.”
RHYTHM & NEWS
Saturday, October 20, 1979
BATTLE OF THE BANGS: Femme Fatale Conquers Europe While Evergreene Amazes North America
There’s a reason we haven’t given you a Battle of the Bangs update in a long time, and that’s because it appears all is quiet on the Western–and European–front.
Evergreene continues to impress their sell-out crowds with five-star reviews being published in media across the Northeast and Mid-West, and in Canada too. One of their three Toronto dates was televised on CBC, and their opening night in Montreal was CFCF radio station’s most listened to recording ever. The boys and Cassie Everard are now in Vancouver, where their success is expected to continue. Likewise, we imagine the rumors about Stephan Greene and Cassie Everard will also persist, despite many fans reporting little to no physical contact between the two, even on their most romantic duets. And when every single audience on the tour makes its desire to see Cassie perform ‘What I Want’ known at each show, which she is yet to grant, perhaps this is an indicator that the fans’ interest in Everard and Greene’s relationship is finally dwindling.
Speaking of “What I Want,” Femme Fatale fans have also been heard calling out for Pia Lindberg to perform the single at the band’s shows in Europe. And again, these calls have gone unanswered. That’s not to say that Lindberg and her backing men are not impressing audiences in Europe. By all accounts, the European leg of their tour has also pulled in critical and popular acclaim, with several journalists commenting on the calmer, more earnest performances by Femme Fatale’s frontwoman.
With Pia telling journalists in Athens that she has been focusing on writing new material while on the road, and Jon Davies being seen surfing at any availableopportunity, could this be a turning point in Femme Fatale’s reputation as the party animals of punk rock? If it is, it would appear that Geert de Vries and Jakob Edvindsson are yet to get the memo as they now have three arrests each for being drunk and disorderly in no fewer than five European cities. Even so, this is nothing compared to previous tours, and soRhythm & Newsremains intrigued about what the future holds for Femme Fatale and for Evergreene, as their tours continue on opposite sides of the Atlantic.
We are also taking bets in the office over who will finally succumb to fans’ demands and perform ‘What I Want’ on stage. Who’s your money on?
CHAPTER 21
PIA
“Iwant the old Pia back.” Geert throws his empty packet of Benson & Hedges at me. I don’t know how he smokes those throat-graters. I don’t know how he does a lot of things.
“She’s dead,” I say and strum out a dramatic riff in the minor iv chord.
“But she didn’t even have a funeral.” He sits up in his chair and reaches for the nearest bottle, which happens to be a bottle of Merlot that was opened and abandoned sometime last night. Or the night before. “Your funeral would be the party of a lifetime.”
“Can we not talk about Pia’s funeral?” Jon emerges from the tour bus’s toilet with a newspaper rolled under his arm and a cigarette between his lips. He’s still doing his jeans up.
“Does that make you feel sad?” I say with a pout.
“Of course it does.” He swipes me with the newspaper before pushing me out of the way so he can sit next to me. I’m quickly reminded how pokey this area of the tour bus becomes once all four of us are sitting on the leather sofa and two armchairs opposite. I used to love that. The proximity, the closeness, the intimacy I shared with these men, but this tour feels different. I find myself craving more alone time. I find myself more and more fed up with their antics. Their banter bores me, and so does our tour schedule. We’re not going anywhere new, and even my favourite cities–Athens, Berlin, Vienna–weren’t as beautiful as I remembered. I also swear the crowds haven’t been as loud or as enthusiastic. Or maybe that’s my failing hearing, which I still haven’t gone to a doctor about.
Or maybe it’s all because I really am sober now. Not touched alcohol or drugs since that night I showed up at Cassie’s hotel room in New York.
“I’d definitely mourn you. You’re the best head I’ve ever had,” Jon adds, bringing me back to the moment.
“Rude!” Jakob opens one eye to exclaim. I knew he wasn’t really asleep.
“Oh, you can have that crown,” I say to Jakob as I absent-mindedly play through a chord sequence I’ve been working on. It came to me last night after our show in Paris, but I stupidly didn’t write it down before I crashed out in my hotel room. And now we’re halfway to Calais and I’m starting to get annoyed that I can’t remember it.
“Are you really going to do it?” Geert says, stealing one of Jon’s smokes.
“What?”
“Give it up forever. The booze.”
“Already have,” I say with a sickeningly sweet smile. I’m making it sound easy when it’s anything but. Jon can testify to that as he’s had to help me through a few nights of cold sweats and nausea.