[ MUSIC ] for our muses to sing / play instruments together.
Rare was the occasion that Corroded Coffin let anyone into their band practice sessions and a first for letting someone else play with them during practice. But Mutt was a decent dude. The band liked him, Eddie liked him even more. Plus, they were all intrigued to hear how good a bassist he was with Mitch out ill. “Who knows, maybe Mitch’ll get replaced by ya, big guy.” A joke, of course, followed by a sly kohl-lined wink while he strummed on Betty casually in Gareth’s garage. “C’mon, man. Get with it already. I’m getting antsy.” aka bored. Eddie shot Gareth a look for taking too long, and the two friends stared meanly at one another for a solid twenty seconds before they broke into laughter. He couldn't be actually angry at his best brother for long.
Once they were finally ready to go, and Eddie’s microphone was at the optimum height. He turned to Mutt, smiling eagerly. “Remember, just like we practised, yeah? I know Judas Priest ain’t really your thing. But I’m fucking living for their new tune, so LET’S ROCK N’ ROLL, BOYS!” Slinging a high-five to Jeff with an energetic shout and then to Mutt, an affectionate middle finger for Gareth, following. Eddie turned towards the imaginary audience and revved Betty up for the introduction of Turbo Lover. They didn’t need to play the song; it wasn’t theirs. But man, once a tune got stuck in his head. There was no stopping him until the energy was well and truly out of his system. He needed to do this.
The lyrics ran from his lips like they were at war, frantic and courageous, and he played the guitar as if it were his battle weapon. He kept the microphone close as one did a lover, and he might as well have been making out with it with the passion he displayed for all to see. Ever the showman, even when in a friend's garage. “I'm your turbo lover. Tell me there's no other. I'm your turbo lover. Better run for cover!” There wasn’t a stage to move across while he sang, but Eddie made it work. He always did. From the sway of denim-clad hips, the manic dips of his curly-haired head to the sweet sounds the four of them made together as a solid unit, and how Betty vibrated hard in his arms. It was beautiful. Perfect. Eddie decided they needed to play some more stuff together before the performance was over.
