Day 8
The two sat at the table, listening to Angelo talk. Ang was a manager. He had decided to put together a band and was collecting talent. One-hundred thousand people, he had said. That’s the size of the crowd he wanted us to play for in the next few years. Six months, he said. That’s how long he wanted it take for us to start touring. Eight, he said. That’s how many songs he had ideas for already. He began to drop names. Jimmy Buffet here, Orlando there, Aerosmith here, Nashville there. These were some of his contacts. He had good contacts. The two listened contently, the excitement silently growing. The one sitting across from Ang would be rhythm guitarist. The one at the end of the table was the pianist. They needed a lead guitarist; there was someone in mind. They needed a bassist; one had already been contacted. They would need a drummer; that one was a bit tougher. A lead vocalist would be good; they had two prospects but no commitment as of yet. A violinist? Did anyone know any violinists? Brass would be a nice thing to have, or even woodwind. There was a trombonist who would be great. A sax-player was mentioned. Maybe a flute or a clarinet? Someone would look into that. They needed all the instruments they could get, even if they wouldn’t all be played for every song. They wanted the option of having violins backing up the guitarists and pianist. They wanted the option of ska-ifying a song using trombones and trumpets. They wanted to be great.
