With a heavy heart, like Golgotha, we walked with Serge in a stuffy, crowded gymnasium of the 47th school in which, in a few minutes, one of two things must happen: either world glory befallen us, or we'll be showered with rotten eggs, or else They will also give from the pure soul to the neck for arrogance. Seeing Lena Mitherev standing near the window with Larisa Migranova, we approached to say hello, after which Seryozha solemnly declared: "Soon we will play with the Count!" Lena looked at me with genuine interest. It was obvious unconcealed female curiosity, and in the blue eyes of the young prelestress the almost professional challenge was read: "Well, well, let's see what you, laps are capable of!" "Truckers" worked five or six songs under the approving roar of the crowd, wriggling a huge snake in the dance "Neck" - the forerunner of modern "hip-hop", when we ventured to approach the musicians and invited them to take a coffee break, giving us the tools. I went up to the red long-haired drummer and asked:
- You could not play the first song of the 1978 band "Space", or else the drummer got sick!
- Yes, it's not a question. Of course, I can! We also play this song. Do you have it in A-minor?
- Yes!
- Well, that's great! We will play. We took places according to the "combat calculation": I, respectively, for the two-row German body "Vermona"; Serezha - with a deathly pale face and a huge bass guitar on his shoulder behind the microphone stand. Yes, frankly, it was why it was pale. We saw professional tools of such a high class for the first time in our life! Even if I have the kind of body that has, in general, the same keyboard as my favorite Petrof, caused a quiet panic in the soul by the only kind of toggle switches and registers, what should we talk about Serezha, who is the first time in his life Picked up a bass guitar, the giant neck of which was almost 1.5 times longer than his "wooden" with a pickup. "I immediately realized that I will not play on it; I just did not know where and what notes to take on these huge frets! "- Novikov later told me, but I did not know that and started as a right musician, to play the introduction to the play in good faith, trying not to notice the huge crowd, curiously moving Practically close to me and my instrument. As I bowed my head above the organ, the view was absolutely surreal - the crowd could only see my bare skull and the keys that ran along the keys. The sound from the organ was absolutely squeaky and very quiet, which was also repeatedly reflected from the walls of the acoustically unsuitable sports hall, but I could no longer switch registers, since my hands were busy; Besides, I was afraid that as a result of my manipulations on an unfamiliar instrument, the picture with sound could become even worse. The second bar of my introduction was coming to an end, I was already on the third circle, and the promised sound support of the "virtuoso" bass guitar and drummer was not there. I threw a quick glance over Novikov's shoulder, who in confusion twisted and flipped the bass guitar tumblers, pretending that he was trying to make the sound louder. The drummer sat unperturbably behind the drum set and, judging by his detached mind, was not going to play along. "We do not play like that!" - he shouted to me through the increasing rumble of the crowd.
At such critical moments in my life, from somewhere deep in my soul, boiling lava raises anger at myself and the whole world, which makes me suddenly gather, completely blocks fear, makes me angry and stubborn. As if nothing had happened, as if experiencing the patience of the crowd, I began to play a very long and rather monotonous part of the "Space". In minutes, two of my "passages" the crowd began to lose patience: "Hey, you bald dick! We ... from there on x .., and then right now we're piling so that my mother does not mourn! "I, as if nothing had happened, continued to play coolly, and the crowd of such unheard-of audacity fell into some strange numbness and Suddenly quieted down - I think it was unlikely she was so fascinated by "marvelous" sounds, quietly flowing in the stale air of the sports hall from under my fingers wet with excitement! The respectable audience was simply stunned by such unprecedented impudence of a bald-headed dude! The last measures I finished in absolute grave silence, which did not bode well. Finally, I finished this long-suffering play, and we, as in a dream, descended from Serezha from the stage; The crowd at the same time quietly parted and menacingly let us through the system, to the exit from the hall. As we passed Lena and Larisa, I caught their frankly compassionate glances, and my ear caught scraps of a girl's conversation:
What kind of play was it?
Yes, in my opinion, something from the repertoire of "Space".
Coming out of the stuffy hall to the dank autumn street and having experienced a great deal of relief, Sergei and I sincerely rejoiced that they did not begin to devote their "enchanting show" to the graduates of the 8th "A" class. Then, in the schoolyard, in the midst of
