Chapter Three

Aesop and Jimmy met up for breakfast two days later. They didn’t usually bother hooking up outside the studio so early in the day, but today was going to be, hopefully, a landmark day for The Grove. There was still some mixing and tidying up to do, but they were going in to cut the last song. The album was pretty much done.

Jimmy sat opposite Aesop, half a fried tomato en route to his mouth.

‘Who?’ said Aesop, frowning into the distance.

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Jimmy, putting down his fork and shaking his head. He looked up. ‘Do I have to go through this every fucking time? Amanda! The girl you rode in Thailand, Aesop. English. Green eyes. Freckles. Friend of Susan, the girl I’ve been going mad over for the last six months, who came to visit me from London and got Peggy all excited because she brought a scarf from Harrods …’

‘Amanda … Amanda …’ said Aesop, tapping the table in front of him. ‘Was she the one whose husband pissed off and took the car? A nice one too, wasn’t it? A GT-R or something. Jimmy, that’s got a steel turbine, ball bearing core, eighteen-inch …’

‘She wasn’t married. They were engaged. But yeah, he took some dosh and did a runner. I don’t know anything about a GT-R.’

‘I think she said it was blue. Did she not say it was blue?’

‘Fuck the car Aesop. Do you remember her? It’s not even a year ago.’

‘I do yeah. I think so. So what about her?’

‘She’s gone … she … ah, it doesn’t matter.’

‘No, tell me.’

‘What’s the point if you don’t remember her?’

‘You were going to tell me, so just tell me.’

‘She’s gone off travelling. I was talking to Susan the other day and Amanda is gone off travelling because she was let go out of work and I think she’s still upset about yer man legging it. So Susan said she’s gone off on a trip to get her head together or something. That’s it.’

‘She’s gone travelling.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Ah that’s nice. Great. So … eh … so, where’s she off to then?’

‘You have no fucking idea who I’m talking about, do you?’

‘I’m trying me best Jimmy for fuck sake. I remember the car.’

‘You never even saw the car! If there was one. Christ. Forget about it. It doesn’t matter.’

Aesop relaxed and took up his coffee. Thank fuck that was over. Jimmy got all excited sometimes and Aesop would have to weather the storm till he got it out of his system and calmed down. Anyway, how are you meant to remember every single girl in the world you ever met or talked to or rode?

‘So what were Dónal’s new band like,’ he said. ‘What are they called? Feet?’

‘Leet. Yeah, they’re pretty good actually. Y’know who they reminded me of? The Stranglers. Take something like The Killers, right? Add a big keyboard sound like The Doors and a bit of ska. They sound like that. Y’know what I mean?’

Aesop had his face scrunched up.

‘The Killers, Stranglers and the Doors. And ska.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’ll have to take your word for it Jimmy, at this hour of the morning. The Stranglers were fucking deadly, but.’

‘Add more Killers.’

‘Not Coldplay though?’

‘No. I don’t know where Dónal got that from. They’re not whingy like that.’

‘Thank fuck.’

‘Anyway, they’re good. Catchy. Man, they’ve got some tunes.’

‘Do they know a bass player?’

‘Ah shite. Forgot to ask them. I’ll ask them the next time. So c’mere, did you find anything when you were out shopping for your new den of iniquity yesterday?’

‘Nah. Actually, I went to the zoo instead.’

‘Dublin Zoo?’

‘No, Jimmy. One of our many other zoos.’

‘But what was in the zoo?’

‘Monkeys. Well, buff-cheeked gibbons.’

Jimmy just looked at him and said nothing.

‘Y’see, I read in the paper last week that one of them had a baby about two months ago and that this week would be the first week it’d be on display.’

‘So … what, you brought Phil’s kids?’

‘No. They have football on Saturdays, sure. I just went on me own.’

‘What? Why for fuck sake?’

‘Man, monkeys are brilliant. Them fuckers make me laugh. The buff-cheeked gibbons don’t use their legs. They just swing out of trees, the cages, ropes. Like Tarzan, y’know? It’s amazing. They lash around the place, just swinging from arm to arm, and they never fall. The speed of them. And the baby, his name’s Jai, was hanging onto his mammy for dear life and her pissing around the cage being chased by the daddy. I think he was after some sweet monkey love, but she was probably still sore from Jai and she wasn’t having any of it. He ended up giving Jai a smack on the head and then went off into a corner to sulk. It was brilliant. You should see them.’

Jimmy shook his head.

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Which part?’

‘All of it. You reading the newspaper for starters.’

‘Sure, I go to the zoo every few weeks to look at the monkeys and chill.’

‘On your own?’

‘Yeah!’

‘Since when?’

‘I’ve been doing it for months now!’

Jimmy just sighed. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised. Aesop had a thing for funny animals. He went to see ‘March of the Penguins’ about five times when it came out and was probably the first person in Dublin to buy it on DVD. He’d come home from the pub, roll a big spliff and then stick on the movie and break his bollocks laughing at the telly for two hours before he went to bed. He did it at least three times a week. He had one about dolphins too.

‘You’re a bleedin’ looper Aesop.’

Aesop shrugged and picked up his coffee.

‘Isn’t it better to go to the zoo for the afternoon than go out robbing shops?’

‘I s’pose it is. Who robs shops?’

‘Some people rob shops. Those fuckers were funny today, but. You should’ve seen them.’

Jimmy nodded.

‘You know you can’t have pets in that place?’

‘Yeah, I know.’

‘So you’re not allowed buy a monkey.’

‘Actually they’re apes, Jimmy. If you want to be technical about it. Yeah, I know. I wasn’t planning on getting one.’

‘Yeah, well I was just making sure. Look, we better go and get our arses to the studio. We told Sparky we’d be in at eight and you know the way he gets when people are late.’

‘I know. Hey, let’s give him another fifteen minutes, will we? He’ll be pacing around the place and kicking things and talking to himself. It’s so bleedin’ funny. He’s like a caged animal when he’s angry, isn’t he?’

‘Well you’d fuckin’ know, by the sounds of things.’

*

Jimmy and Aesop finished playing and looked up through the window at Sparky. He gave them the thumbs-up to say it was a wrap, and then they took off their headphones and started to yawn and stretch. Jesus, that had been a long session, but at least they were done. The rest of the work would be done by Sparky at the console, Jimmy lending a hand. Their debut album, which Senturian Records were going to release in the UK, would be winging its way to London and all the lads would have to do then would be wave and smile for the cameras. Everything was cool. Well, they had to find a fucking bass player of course. Jimmy had done all of the bass on the album except for the two versions of ‘Caillte’, which Shiggy had already recorded in Dublin and in Japan when the lads were out there with Johnnie Fingers the previous year.

‘Aesop, there’s a call on hold for you here,’ said Sparky into his mike.

‘Is it the president of me fan club again? Will you tell her I have her pencilled in for Tuesday and Thurday evenings and not to be such an itchy trollop. And would she ever try and have a bit of respect for herself.’

‘I told you not to be giving this number out like that, didn’t I? Anyway, it doesn’t sound like one of your little floozies. It might be one of their Daddys, though, looking to kick the hole off you, please God.’

‘A bloke? Jaysis. Tell him to hang on, will you? I’m going for a piss.’

‘Hang on? I’ll hang your bollocks off the monitors you cheeky prick. You can take it now or I’m cutting the fucker off. He’s tying up the line for ten minutes, the cunt.’

Aesop nodded.

‘Where was that finishing school you went to again, Sparky? Switzerland, was it?’

‘You’ve five seconds.’

Aesop went in to take the call as Jimmy and Sparky started to tidy up. Leet were coming in a bit later to start putting down a demo that Dónal hoped would get Senturian interested in them. Jimmy was finding it hard to multitask like this – his debut album one minute, getting a deal for a bunch of kids the next. Dónal was out now at a meeting with some music lawyers.

‘Wotcha reckon Sparky?’ said Jimmy.

‘Hopefully it is some girl’s Da looking to kick the hole off him.’

‘I meant about the album.’

‘Tops, Jimmy. Here you go …’

Sparky took a CD out of his breast pocket and handed it across to Jimmy.

‘Unit number one.’

Jimmy took it in his hands. It was just a blank-looking CD, no artwork or anything. No indication that it contained a large part of his spirit, his soul, the musical ideas that had been with him since he was a teenager, most of his aspirations for the future. It was going to be called “Brazen Songs and Stories”.

‘So how long will you need to spend on it, Sparky?’ said Jimmy.

‘By the end of next week it’ll be in London. No problem.’

‘I’d say you’ll be glad to see the back of it then, yeah?’

‘I’ll tell you Jimmy, you’ve some good stuff on there. I’d say you’ll do well out of it. But it’s all down to the money and Senturian look like they’re behind it. That’s what’s important in the end. If it’s not being pushed along like a bastard, nothing will happen. That’s the business these days. Good songs mean nothing.’

‘That’s a jolly bleedin’ thought.’

‘Sorry man. It’s business. You see that fucking eejit that won Big Brother? Number one for the last six weeks and all he does is talk over a song that was shite when it came out the first time in 1966. More talent in my snot so there is. He’ll have an album out now too, watch. Make a million quid. In six months time, no one will remember the cunt and we’ll never hear from him again and that’s the only good thing about it. Hand us those cans will you?’

Jimmy picked up his headphones and gave them to him.

‘You don’t think much of the music industry, do you Sparky?’

‘Full of pricks, Jimmy. Always was, actually. These days more than ever. And I don’t mean the likes of that gurrier in there on the phone. I’m talking about fuckers would sell their own mammies. Greedy bastards. It’s got nothing to do with music.’

‘So why do you do it?’

‘Why?’

Sparky looked at Jimmy like it was the strangest thing he’d ever been asked.

‘Yeah,’ said Jimmy. ‘I mean, if you think they’re all bastards, why not do something else?’

Sparky laughed.

‘Like what?’ he said. ‘Kindergarten teacher? Nah Jimmy, this is my job. The only one I can do. But I don’t do it for the money.’

‘Why then?’

‘See that gobshite in there?’

‘Aesop?’

‘Yeah. Aesop. You know what I caught him doing last week?’

‘Oh Christ, don’t tell me …’

‘Nah, it’s not bad. He was loosening up before you got here. Playing that old Van Halen song he likes. You know it?’

‘“Hot for Teacher”? He plays that to warm up when he can get his hands on two bass drums.’

‘Yeah, well he was playing it the other day. I happened to be recording at the same time, just to get some levels for later.’

‘What happened?’

‘He played it perfectly.’

‘Yeah, he’s good at it all right.’

‘No, Jimmy. Perfectly. I have that album on the computer. I brought it up and put the Van Halen intro next to his to check the waves. Identical. He didn’t miss one single beat.’

‘Right. Eh … is that good?’

‘If you’d told me I’d have called you a lying cunt.’

‘Really?’

Jimmy looked back in at Aesop who was still on the phone.

‘It’s that hard to do?’

‘It’s not fuckin’ easy. So anyway, that’s why I do it Jimmy. Cos every now and then, when you work with artists, you come across something that you can’t explain. That’s God shining through, Jimmy. It’s a little glimpse of God. I need that in my life. We all do. God is brilliant, so he is.’

Oh fuck, thought Jimmy. Sparky was going mad again. Steady … steady …

‘Of course,’ continued Sparky, ‘then you look at the people that God chooses to use as his instrument. And, taking that fucker in there as an example, the holiness of it all kind of falls on its tits, doesn’t it?’

Jimmy laughed.

‘I s’pose, yeah.’

‘But it doesn’t matter, Jimmy. I heard it. He hadn’t even taken off his jacket. He just pulls out the sticks and goes straight into it. He didn’t even know I was in here. Thirty seconds of the intro. Then he stands up, sees me and goes, “Hey Sparky, is the kettle boiled? I’d a skinful of pints and two French slappers last night. Hairy yokes they were too, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy meself. Is there bikkies?”.’

Jimmy laughed.

‘Sounds like the Holy Spirit working through him all right.’

‘I know. But you can’t question God, Jimmy.’

‘I don’t, Sparky. I don’t. But … I wouldn’t have figured you for …’

‘Ah, I’m not going to stick a bible in your face Jimmy, but when I hit the bottom of the shitter twenty years ago and I couldn’t climb out, it was God who reached down for me.’

‘Fuck. I never knew that.’

‘Yeah. Well that’s between me and him. The point is, most people don’t give a fuck about anything they can’t show off to their greedy bastard mates, and you can’t show off your soul. This isn’t about heaven and hell or any of that manmade shite, Jimmy. It’s not even about music. My job isn’t really about music. It’s about getting into someone’s head and showing them the way out. Fuck knows, I’ve had a lot of practice flying in and out of me own head. For a while there I used to be gone for days. Sometimes me head wouldn’t let me back in and we’d have a big row. Confusing as fuck that was.’

‘Jesus. What were you on? LSD, coke …?’

‘LSD and coke? Christ, you don’t want to take LSD and coke together Jimmy. The fuckin’ last thing you need when you’re hallucinating is a confidence booster, I’m telling you. Anyway, I don’t do that shit any more, but when an artist – like you for instance – wants something, I can usually get a feel for it and help them bring it out. And I thank God for giving me that gift. You’ve got your gifts too, as does that little delinquent in there. But the music industry doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. No more than any other industry. It’s about money, Jimmy.’

‘You’re fucking bumming me out here Sparky. Jesus …’

‘Ah, I don’t mean to Jimmy. The important thing is how you feel about the album. Where it came from, what it means … are you cool with it? Your name is on it. Can you stand next to it?’

‘Yeah. Yeah I can.’

‘Then fuck them all.’

Aesop came back into them. He had the knuckle of one index finger in his mouth and was frowning.

‘What’s up?’ said Jimmy. ‘You in the shit over some bird?’

‘What? Oh. No. No, it’s not that.’

‘Who was it then?’

‘Remember Mena?’

‘Probably not, Aesop. Around when was she having the pleasure?’

‘No Jimmy. Mena. Remember them two little young fellas were outside here a while back? Wanted me to go to their sister’s birthday party. She was sick, right?’

‘Oh yeah. Eh … Liam, wasn’t it? And the little fella.’

‘Yeah. Well, that was their Da on the phone. Turns out that the poor young one is out in Crumlin in the hospital out there. She’s not fucking doing well either.’

‘Jesus. That’s fucking terrible. Is it bad?’

‘Yeah. They’re only letting her home for her birthday cos they aren’t sure she’ll be having another one.’

Sparky blessed himself and shook his head.

‘Poor child.’

‘Her birthday is Friday night. I said we’d drop in.’

‘Okay. But … eh … we’re playing Vicar Street on Friday, Aesop.’

‘We’ll just say hello on the way to the gig. I know it’ll be tight but, listen man, apparently I’m all she talks about, right? She thinks I’m fuckin brilliant or whatever. And now Liam is after copping that something’s going on with her. He’s starting to go off the rails at school, his Da says, and he keeps fuckin running away and all, y’know? And the Da sounds like he’s only barely holding it together himself. C’mon. We’ll drop in, Jimmy. Half an hour, right?’

Jimmy just nodded.

‘Okay. Yeah, no problem.’

The three of them stood there for a minute.

‘Cup of tea Aesop?’ said Sparky, eventually.

‘Thanks man.’