Hi, welcome to…
***THREE TRACK C-C-C-COMBO***
AND HAVE WE GOT A SPECIAL ONE FOR YOU TODAY. Surely we’re headed for the US. Surely. No? The UK? This is… England? What do you mean they’re English? Oxford? BLOODY OXFORD? HAVE THE NEDS TAKEN OVER? ARE THE POSHIES SKIPPING UNI? HAS HOT TOPIC LANDED ON THE HIGH STREET? Because I swear this could only be American, but according to my research South Arcade is 100% OXFORD. How did this happen? Keir Starmer and his Labour cronies of course. Oxford Uni is #4. Oxford kids are now POP PUNK. Someone tell the Tories. ORDER MUST BE RESTORED. Step aside Hayley Williams, hollaback Gwen Stefani, because HARMONY CAVELLE HAS ENTERED THE ARENA, DEMANDING THAT WE BRING BACK 2005. With a voice like that, I had to oblige (and she’s kinda cute hey Harmony wassup).
I’m unashamed to admit that I was in a Paramore cover band in my teens. Ladies, wait. Don’t go. Listen to me. This was when Paramore was hot shit. It’s not as lame as it sounds. It was actually quite cool. Puberty and Hayley Williams, you know. I’m sure you understand. I played Slipknot and Nine Inch Nails1 too, so it’s not all bad. It was whatever my hormones was feeling that week. Being a drummer in a band teaches you a great many things, many of which are immensely useful for life. If the drummer stops playing, the party ends. You learn to never stop playing, you learn resilience, you learn responsibility, you learn to be reliable, because if you’ve never played in a band with a wonky drummer, try it. I promise it will be the most awkward experience of your life, because the drums are also incredibly loud. So you learn to not suck, because if you do, the whole world knows. You don’t even have to be like Jonathan Barber. It helps, but it isn’t absolutely necessary. You just have to not suck. Because if you suck, it’s very loud. At the very least, you must keep time. The entire experience rests on you. No pressure.
Harmony, at least one of the boys is into you, if not all three. Don’t do it. Paramore was never the same again. And boys, don’t look at Harmony. Look into the crowd. Hang around the venue after the gig. Have a pack of ciggies ready. Be nonchalant. Don’t expect it. Let them come to you2. When they do, say “want a cigarette?” If they don’t, LAME avoid. If they do, say “I’ll give you a cigarette if you give me your number.” Call her on the spot. Tell her to pick up. If she does, say “wanna come back to mine?” From there, it’s all yours. You got this. I believe in you. 1, 2, 3, TEAM BOYS.
Ok folks. Get ready, our next stop is 2005.
Watching this today, I’m inclined to believe that drummers have a different relationship to perfectionism; it is the rule, not the exception—we know how it looks, we know how it feels. And god, it feels good.
Don’t be surprised if they are of the older sort. Those are usually the best. You might even get pocket money.
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