Bring the Beat In
Location: Mercury Lounge || NYC
Tagging: Eve Harley
Time Frame: Late Thursday Evening || October 8th
Notes: It’s been over a year since I’ve posted anything on here and I figured it was time to write up a little Eve update. A little continuation if you will. I think she more than deserves it.
“You look familiar.”
Hazel eyes fought the urge to roll and instead Eve focused on the smooth flow of the cool water down her throat. She was getting pretty damn tired of getting approached by people offering to buy her a drink. She was there for work.
Tonight’s agenda was a routine scout trip. And an unplanned one at that. Jimmy, one of the talent scouts at Therapy Vibes Records had been thrust an invitation to a secret show at the Mercury Lounge. Perfect time to do some schmoozing and boozing while also checking out the city’s new musical prospects. Eve, being the longest running intern at the label, had been picked up by Jimmy to shadow him for the event. And Eve had never been one to turn down free live music.
Contrary to popular belief, talent scouts didn’t actually scour clubs, looking for acts. The glamorous tale of a scout happening upon some diamond in the rough and making their dream come true was a bit of a stretch. At least for most. Most of Eve’s tasks as an intern involved shadowing Jimmy. Still learning the business. Still itching to make it on her own. Playing assistant at festivals had been fun the past year; a way to kill time in the summertime and check out free music. But a year later, she was still being introduced as ‘the intern.’
Loving music wasn’t enough. She needed to submerge herself in the business, even if it meant stepping outside of ‘the way things were done’. She didn’t want typical meeting and set-ups with so so musicians, ending with a ‘we’ll see’. She wanted to be out there. Wanted to pull her weight and earn a title beyond ‘hot, abrasive intern’. She’d need to bring something to Jimmy, as a sign of good faith, that she not only had the ear for music, but the eye for talent.
And that’s how she found herself at the Mercury Lounge, on a Thursday evening, getting checked out by a chick with tight jeans and paint splattered combat boots. Eve took a moment to study the thick stripe of a curly frohawk atop the otherwise shaved head and the full lips that curled into a bright smile when she caught the Eve’s long stare.
“Can I help you...” Eve asked, not trying to keep the bite out of her question.
“Nah, I mean if you wanna look a little longer, I don’t mind.“
Eve rolled her eyes and refused to acknowledge the fact that she’d been caught, instead turning to casually reach for her water on the bar. “I’m good with the looking. I guess I’m just trying to figure out what it is you want.”
The woman chuckled, and Eve caught a glimpse of white teeth, a stark contrast to the rich sienna hue of her skin. “You really don’t remember me, huh, Smily?”
Eve glanced over, brow arched at the nickname. “Excuse me?”
“Your tattoo, on your side. The ‘don’t tell me to smile’ tattoo? I touched it up, last month.” The woman stepped closer to the lights near the bar top and realization hit Eve, and she smiled broadly.
“Shit! I didn’t recognize you. The lighting and the noise level.” Her cheeks were warm and she shook off the minor embarrassment in favor of accepting the offered hand in a firm shake. “It’s…Shayla, right?”
“Yeah. Baldwin. At least you got that part.” Shayla’s grin was teasing and Eve immediately relaxed.
“My mind is a little all over the place. But it’s slowly coming back to me now.” Eve paused, stumbling over her words. “Do you want a drink, or something? How are things going at the shop?”
Shayla signaled for the bartender and promptly ordered another Henny and Coke for herself. She gestured to Eve, who just shook her head. It earned her a raised eyebrow from Shayla but Eve just shrugged it off. “Shop’s real good. I’m booked solid through the month.” The woman leaned on the bar and scanned the crowd. “So what are you doing here, besides looking good and drinking water?”
It wasn’t too packed, which Eve appreciated. Easy enough to carry on a conversation. At Shayla’s question, her lips twitched into another small smile. “I’m working tonight. Kind of.”
“Yeah? What is it you do?”
The MC came onstage then, announcing the start of the show. The first set was a female fronted act, which boasted so-so vocals but Eve admired their energy and the kickstart of the drum, leading into their first song. It was pop-driven number, good for background noise. “I work in music, actually.” It always seemed simpler to say that. Further explanation would only allow for people to be confused or try to sell her on their sound. And she never was much of a sharer.
Shayla smiled and sipped her cocktail, nodding idly to the beat that eventually segued into another song with the same fuzzed out sound. “Oh, word? So what are you, a musician? You got that sexy rocker chick look going on. I could see it.”
Eve chuckled. “Nah. I work for an indie record label…” Their conversation was easy then, trading opinions back and forth about the various acts. It was a free for all, a little bit of everything to keep the crowd rocking. Good, but not great. Nothing stood out until the middle of the night, during Shayla’s third Jack and ginger ale, when he came onstage amid a din of cheers. With a wide grin on his handsome face, the man adjusted his snapback, greeted the crowd and called for the DJ onstage to bring the beat in. Immediately an old-school style track boomed through the speakers, mixed with a drugging bassline that prompted a few people to groove.
His name was Dizzy and his band went by the name Painting Planets. Catchy name. Hot sound. Frank Ocean beats with a serious Cali flow. Eve found herself nodding at his bars, noticing the way he kept the crowd hype. They seemed to know his songs, shouting out the lyrics to his infectious hooks whenever the young man with the insane stage presence would hold the mic out to the crowd.
Something clicked inside Eve and she turned to Shayla who was mouthing the words, stopping when she caught Eve’s gaze.
“You like it?”
“Definitely,” she replied with a nod. “He’s pretty good.”
“Nah, he’s the best. Everybody knows Dizz. Best unsigned musician in the city.”
Eve cocked a brow at that, turning back to the stage just in time to catch the start of Dizzy’s freestyle over a Biggie beat. “He’s bold. I dig his style.”
“If you wanna meet him, I can set it up,” Shayla offered, whistling loudly at the end of the track, the sound piercing through the boisterous applause from the crowd.
Eve’s mind was already buzzing with possibility. Clapping along, she nodded at Shayla. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
It took twenty minutes to work their way backstage, and at the first sight of her, Dizzy wasn’t too impressed.
“Who’s Hipster Barbie?” he directed to Shayla, who simply rapped her knuckles across the side of his head.
“I’m Eve.” She decided to take the lead. “I’m a...friend of Shayla’s.”
Dizzy shrugged and wiped at his sweaty brow with a small washcloth. “So? My cousin’s got a lot of friends. You special or something?“
“Cousin?” Eve turned to Shayla, who nodded and clipped the young man again. “Or something. We are friends. But whatever. You put on a hell of a show.”
The man snorted at that, the sound giving way to full on laughter. “Yo, is she forreal? Somebody get Hipster outta here. Shayla, where you find this broad? Are you new? I’m the best out here. Ask about me.”
“I figured I’d cut the middle man, word of mouth bullshit and head straight to the source. Even if he is about to talk himself right out of a contract offer, if he keeps calling me outside my name, which I so generously offered.” Eve’s smirk turned smug when Dizzy stopped taking. “Alright. Like I said. My name’s Eve, and you’re phenomenal. A little rough around the edges, but you give me serious Cudi mixtape vibes. It’s raw, but something’s there. I think with a professional touch we could put something together.”
“So what, you’re some kind of hip-hop fairy, spreading her hipster girl cheer and tossing out contracts like glitter dust, or something?”
Eve shook her head. “I’m just a fan of good shit. I wanna take that good shit and make it bankable, great shit. I work for Therapy Vibes Music.” Pulling out a card from her bag, she passed it to the young man. “We look for the best, innovative artists, people who are game changers. You want to spit some real shit and put something together, you call this number. That call means college tours, interviews, radio shows and podcasts. It means MTVU Woodies and write ups in Complex or Pitchfork. Or just go back to playing once a week shows for the local crowd with the occasional social media shout out on some Facebook fan page. Up to you.”
She could see the wheels turning behind dark eyes as he studied the business card, and knew it wouldn’t be long before she had her answer. She stole a quick glance at Shayla, who watched her with something akin to appreciation, the look growing into a smile when Dizzy finally spoke again.
“Alright, alright. Eve, right? Lemme see the contract. We’ll see what you tryna offer the kid, first.”
Eve scoffed as Shayla sighed and popped her cousin on the arm. “That’s not how it works, Dizz.”
“Adam,” Shayla corrected, ignoring Dizzy’s glare. “What? Boy, don’t look at me like that.”
“Don’t be giving out my government!”
“Well your real name isn’t really important to me.” Eve held out her hand. “We don’t walk around with contracts in my back pocket. You get the card for now. And a handshake. You call the office tomorrow morning and we’ll set up a meeting. You get to meet the Boss Man and perform for him. He gets final say, but if you bring what you had tonight…you’ll be looking at papers to sign before the ink can dry.”
“Alright, alright. Tomorrow then. Good talk, Eve.” He shook her hand, gave a nod to his cousin and walked away, leaving Eve feeling like she’d just experienced the best sugar rush.
“Wait, so you’re a music exec?” Shayla asked.
Eve shrugged. “More like a junior scout.”
“I see. And getting Dizz’ll earn you that big girl big time scout badge?”
Eve laughed and fumbled through her bag for her phone to call Jimmy. “Yeah. Something like that.”
