Judy pulls him in and pinches his face. "My sore loser."
"Humbug!" I yell, sink into one of the chairs and pull the microphone to my face. "If you two are going to snog all day, I might as well take over the show."
Judy breaks apart from Nate, who looks like he needs the fresh air. "No! I’ve got a special announcement to make." She pushes him aside. He stumbles and falls on the couch behind us as she checks the timer in front of us.
The song, Foals’ "Inhaler," is nearing its end. She grabs the microphone and turns it on. I do the same and give her a cheeky smile.
"And, we’re back, folks," Judy says. "Before we launched into that outdoor spectacle, we were talking about the things that make our souls sing."
"Light as a peach," I inject.
"Weeell, I've got a big announcement that'll get you into a state of entropy," she says and looks at me. The first time I’d heard her use that word, I had to ask her to explain it to me a couple of times. What I’d got out of it was it was about disorder. A riot.
"In other words, we're going to start a riot," I say. "Brilliant. It’s definitely time for a cuppa!"
"During your little shenanigans outside, Callum Ford—bassist of The Gramophones in case you didn’t know—tweeted about a gig tonight."
WHAT?!
Nate curses in shock. I almost fall out of my chair.
"No swearing on air!" Judy chastises him. "We have a credibility to uphold."
"Do you mean to say that The Gramophones have gone off hiatus?" I ask, louder than intended. "The Gramophones are back?"
The question hangs in the air, building suspense. I tap my fingers fast.
Four years ago, The Gramophones almost ceased to exist, when all but one of their members left the band. They were known as Likely Strangers then. Lead singer, Josh Ford, was devastated and thought it was the end. But a few weeks later, he met Harry and Luke at a music festival. Apparently, they were all from the same Uni and kept bumping into each other during the festival. Turns out they all liked the same bands and all felt they were outcast musicians. Josh recruited his younger brother Callum and The Gramophones were born. They’d been touring Asia and North America before they’d gone on hiatus. No one knows exactly why.
In the last year, there have been rumours of their disbandment, but I never believed a word. After wanting to make it in the scene for so long and finally achieving it at such a massive scale, why would they throw it away just like that?
"Woman, are they back?" Nate's voice rips through my recollection.
"That is the debate exploding all over the Internet," Judy says, making a reference to a classic The Gramophones song entitled "Explode." "None of the other members have said anything. Even their official accounts have been on radio silence."
"What were Callum's exact words?" I ask, ready to dissect the meaning and solve the puzzle.
"‘Tonight at nine. Be on the lookout for coordinates. Hashtag THS,’" she reads aloud, showing it to me.
"That could mean anything," Nate says, scrolling online.
THS. The Hollowing Sound? That was the title of their last studio album, but it would be weird to promote that one after being on hiatus for two years…unless they had new material with the same initials as a sort of tribute.
"How do you know it’s a gig? It could be anything!" I say.
"The lad’s got a point," Nate says. "A very clever point."
"Because his previous tweet said ‘Gig-time. Not Marmont,’" Judy sighs with exasperation. "Sign-up for a Twitter account, would you?"
I make a face and she sticks her tongue out. "Classy," I say.
"‘Location will be unveiled three hours to show time!’" Judy reads Callum's latest tweet.
"Talk about seizing the night," Nate says. I hand him the microphone, and zone out as I scramble to send messages to Benji and Eric.
But both of them have beaten me to it.
Benji: R THE GRAMOPHONES BCK!?
Eric: There's a last-minute booking @ The Verve tonight. Update you when I get more details.
If this really is the comeback show of The Gramophones, we must be there. I return Eric's message: Guest list us?
In less than a minute he replies: You know it.
The perks when one of your best mates works at The Verve.
"Why did they go on hiatus the first place?" Judy asks. She's a recent convert to the band. "They were on a roll, or so you boys keep telling me."
I stare at the signed Gramophones poster on our memorabilia corner. The walls are actually white, but only the windows overlooking the view outside are evidence of its true nature. It looks like flyers and posters exploded on the rest of the walls.
"No one really knows why," Nate continues. "After their label cut them, they released an independent record that sold over five hundred thousand copies. They were at their peak, then they went dark."
"How does a label fire you?" Judy asks. "I didn't know that was possible!"
"Their producers wanted them to sound a certain way to make more profit, but they refused."
"It took a lot of balls to say no to a major label," Judy says.
I know The Gramophones' story by heart, but hearing Judy and Nate discuss it out loud…Josh Ford never gave up on his dream, not even when everyone deserted him—and not when a major label was standing in his way. But I've tucked mine away because of the bitter aftertaste of my played-up projects…
I think about how I have to endure Uni for the next three years just so I can land a desk job I can’t even see myself in. A lot of people bank on Uni as their ticket to the ideal life—earning loads of money at a proper, stable job—but what if that’s not what I want?
Nate’s question loops in my head.
If music is what I want, then what is stopping me from trying
