Found in the Trash Can at the end of Seth Graham's Driveway
Note: Seth has provided his house in London as pre-tour headquarters for Blue Silver.
On a crumpled piece of notebook paper, stained with tea. Or maybe whiskey:
Seth,
The phones are dead. Pay the effin bill, will ya? I hadda go get a battery for my mobile. The keyboard won't be ready for a week. Don't tell Jules.
Pete [Blue Silver's production manager]
Seth,
I stopped by to drop off the lyrics for the new song, 'cause you weren't answering the phone. You need a hand with the bill? Anyway, I think this is the last revision. Maybe. I don't know, I might want to change the coda a little. Call me. I'm not comin' back till Jules's keyboard is done.
Brad [bass]
Pete,
What the hell do you mean, the keyboard won't be ready for another week? I can't go on stage with a board I haven't been intimate with, and you know it. If Amie wasn't on her way, I'd wait here for you so I could kick your arse. You coward.
Seth, pay the effin' bill already!
Julian [keyboard]
Seth,
Don't know where you are, mate, but sounds like it's better if I stay away a few days. Forget that photo shoot Pete's trying to set up for the Times. Last time they did a story on us, they made us pose in boxers.
Troy [drums]
Seth,
Let me know when the next rehearsal is. I can't hang around here with all this stress.
Robert [guitar]
Pete: The phone cord was ripped out of the wall. Stop getting pissed at the promoters.
Julian: The keyboard will be here tomorrow.
Brad: If you want it on the album, the song is done.
Robert: You're a laugh riot. Tomorrow, five o'clock.
Troy: That was 20 years ago, mate. Let it go.
You're all a bunch of wankers.
Seth [lead vocals]
On a crumpled piece of notebook paper, stained with tea. Or maybe whiskey:
Seth,
The phones are dead. Pay the effin bill, will ya? I hadda go get a battery for my mobile. The keyboard won't be ready for a week. Don't tell Jules.
Pete [Blue Silver's production manager]
Seth,
I stopped by to drop off the lyrics for the new song, 'cause you weren't answering the phone. You need a hand with the bill? Anyway, I think this is the last revision. Maybe. I don't know, I might want to change the coda a little. Call me. I'm not comin' back till Jules's keyboard is done.
Brad [bass]
Pete,
What the hell do you mean, the keyboard won't be ready for another week? I can't go on stage with a board I haven't been intimate with, and you know it. If Amie wasn't on her way, I'd wait here for you so I could kick your arse. You coward.
Seth, pay the effin' bill already!
Julian [keyboard]
Seth,
Don't know where you are, mate, but sounds like it's better if I stay away a few days. Forget that photo shoot Pete's trying to set up for the Times. Last time they did a story on us, they made us pose in boxers.
Troy [drums]
Seth,
Let me know when the next rehearsal is. I can't hang around here with all this stress.
Robert [guitar]
Pete: The phone cord was ripped out of the wall. Stop getting pissed at the promoters.
Julian: The keyboard will be here tomorrow.
Brad: If you want it on the album, the song is done.
Robert: You're a laugh riot. Tomorrow, five o'clock.
Troy: That was 20 years ago, mate. Let it go.
You're all a bunch of wankers.
Seth [lead vocals]
posted by Natalie J. Damschroder at 1:44 PM
7 Comments:
>>You're all a bunch of wankers.
Classic!
Ellie M.
Almost looks as if Seth had his own type of school passing notes going on!! Even 20 years later LOL
I got the idea from my mother and brother. When he was in high school (I was away at college) they kept a pad in the kitchen and wrote notes to each other 'cause their schedules didn't intersect a lot. She kept them, and I found them when she died. Kind of a creepy thing to inspire me, I guess, but I thought about six guys in and out of Seth's house, and that's what popped into my head!
As I tell my writer friends 'inspiration is where you find it'
You know what, Seth? I don't have to let it go. It's this type of garbage that landed me in India, searching for inner-sanctum that doesn't exist. And, need I remind you, it's what sent you to divorce court. Grow a set steel balls, say no to all the effing promotions, and you might still be making love to that sweet Cassie.
What's important, here? Image? Or music? And if there's not a pack of Marlboros with my name on it alongside your frequently out-of-order telephone, I'm going back to the States. Can't handle this stress on no nicotine, and I don't care how long it took me to shake the habit in the first place.
Call me a wanker one more time, and you'll find yourself drumming more than your own shaft, come tour time.
Troy, who hates all the hoopla of touring and desperately needs a fag.
You know, if you'd just switch to herbal teas, it would be easier to kick the nic habit. Caffeine accentuates the craving for nicotine.
Maybe you should try some yoga too. I'll tell them you're coming. Give it a try, mate.
--Robert
I've never found myself in such compromising positions than at Yoga class. I may try something herbal, but if you tell anyone, I'll borrow Arliss' bat.
-Troy
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