Chapter 14

Blue Rembrandt had reinvented themselves since The Curse's abortive first foray into the States. From a fringe artrock act they'd whittled down to four and now played a style that seemed to Mick a cross between Franz Ferdinand, the Kaiser Chiefs and Linkin Park.

The leader was a sometime keyboard player and they had a Linn Synth-drum that he hadn't seen since the eighties. There was some rap, some harmonies and a lot of strutting and posturing.

The strength of Blue Rembrandt was their singer - a guy blessed with boyish good looks and a good stage presence. He went by the name of 'Flash, ' although his real name was Dwight Cooney, a good Hollywood moniker, Mick thought. Dwight was 24, although he looked about 18, and had solid entertainment lineage with both parents in the business.

Blue Rembrandt were polished and professional and had a charting single and a video. Their star was rising and they ought to draw good crowds.

"Nothing special," declared Anna as they watched a CD of a live concert together.

"Hmm," Mick thought, scratching his jaw, "you don't want to play that game, Anna," he said, "remember, we're practically unknown so we need to establish our own territory. You remember that concert in London? You picked out some guy in the front row and sang to him? You practically made him come in his pants - that's what I want to see."

"You want the audience to masturbate?" laughed Michelle.

"They can do what they like," smiled Sabra, "but Mick's right. Anna, you've got to make love to the front row. Do the whole relationship thing with the crowd that I watched you do in Japan. Once you establish that connection, you'll have them eating out of your hand."

"Yeah, lots of eye contact. You girls going to do the Madonna Britney thing after 'You Burn Me'?" Mick asked.

"The big pash?" Sabra looked up, "kind of old hat, Mick?"

"Only if it's theatre, Sabra. Folks will see through 'fake' but Michelle and Anna really make it work."

"Maybe we ought to throw off our clothes and get it on?" Michelle said, sarcastically.

"It's been done," laughed Sabra, "it'll get you in the papers but I think you'll attract the wrong sort of crowd. But, a little affection on stage is a good tool to use. If you can pull it off and it looks genuine, sure, why not?"

"Oh, fuck off, you guys," Michelle said, angrily, "it's cheap!"

"No, it isn't," Anna said, "we are good friends. It's a natural thing to show love for a friend."

"As a spectacle, though? A 'tool' to get some voyeur to come?"

"Not at all," Sabra said, "this is about establishing who you are to an audience that, quite frankly, are not there to see you. The dynamics within the band are important. Half the battle is to show the audience how much you care about each other and that you enjoy being together. A lot of bands just walk through the moves and you know they're only there because they're being paid. The intimacy within The Curse is going to make you in the States as much as your songs. Don't be afraid to show it to the audience."

"So what do you expect me to do?"

"Whatever you feel like doing with your clothes on," Sabra told her, "if you don't feel in the mood, fine, don't force it."

"The audience will feed you the energy, Michelle. Once you have them on side, just go with your extincts," Mick suggested.

"Exactly," agreed Sabra.

"I've seen you in the zone when everything's cooking well," Mick told her. "We're all emotional junkies - the audience are too. We wouldn't be doing this if that wasn't the pay off. We want the crowd to adore The Curse as we adore being up there playing for them. We zone in to one another and let's move the crowd a little sideways?"

"Sideways," agreed Anna, "but not out the door!"

"No," Sabra laughed, "I like what I feel among you, guys. A little tension, sure, but respect and love. You guys are just going to knock them dead and I'm not saying that lightly."

Later that morning Sabra drove them out to the venue to have a look around. It was a large theatre in Downtown LA called The Dome and Anna took pictures of the sign out front. Mick saw The Curse's name was only just a little smaller than Blue Rembrandt's. STA Management were already exerting some muscle.

The afternoon saw them with a slot on the AltRock Channel, an instore, and several radio interviews. Anna and Michelle worked the media, being accepted by Sabra as the 'acceptable face' of The Curse - Mick was too old and Karen too uncomfortable.

Junior was to control the sound board - a massive Selecon set up - and lighting was taken care of by a hired crew. Mick took them through the plot while Karen helped Junior and the other girls did the media.

Blue Rembrandt's crew were friendly and co-operative and Mick had few problems working with them. If there was any tension between the bands it evidently didn't come from the Blue Rembrandt boys.

Mick took up the slack vacated by Freddie. They had no stage manager, now, but Mick knew how to set up after his years of experience with touring.

They were given only 20 minutes for a sound check, but, as the opening act, Mick had to accept such shenanigans. Mick understood the politics and came prepared. Junior had all the levels set in double quick time - the advantage of bringing one's own specialist.

Then it was off to a nearby restaurant for dinner - paid for by Sony as a welcoming gesture. Sony's American A and R was young, ambitious and anxious to make a name for himself in the business. Within seconds Anna had him eating of her hand and Mick mused, they could expect few problems with their American label.

It wasn't 'de rigeur' to arrive too early for the gig. Neither did it make a lot of sense waiting while the audience filed in. It was tough on the stress levels and much better to show a half hour before.

The Curse dressed and made up backstage then went through their pre-gig huddle. Sabra had a personal hug and kiss for each of them and urged them to 'just have some fun'. Then Mick lead Michelle onstage to plug up, while Karen slipped onto the stool at the back.

The applause was polite and restrained. An announcer welcomed them as 'comin' all the way from Noo Zeeland.' Mick launched straight in, not leaving the audience time to form any opinions about their 'look.'

They did the 'overture' straight out of the Japan concerts - a cut from Led Zeppelin's 'Dazed and Confused.' Karen treated it as a warm up, lustily thrashing around the kit with tons of cymbal crashes. Karen then set up a simple 4 beat for their first number, 'Darkside.'

Anna's entry onstage was spectacular and Mick could feel the audience buzzing. Above the droning, distorted guitar she strode to the front and belted out the opening verse. Immediately, she eyeballed some young guy in the front row and frightened the shit out of him. In no time at all, the crowd warmed.

'Darkside' was followed by three breakneck numbers played as rapidly as Karen could manage. They were blitzing the audience with their no holds barred fury as they rattled through number after number. Is was almost with relief that Mick did the little intro part for 'You Burn Me' as he wasn't sure how long he could sustain the pace.

Mick looked over to Michelle. She momentarily caught his gaze and flashed him a grin. Her hair had been flying all over the place and locks clung to her face. Her skin glowed with perspiration and she was loving every second.

She stepped forward for the chorus and Anna put an arm over her shoulder.

"This is my best friend!" Anna announced, before resuming singing. Anna stooped a little and hugged Michelle a little tighter. The fretboard of Michelle's Rickenbacker jutted out in front. Michelle half turned and leaned up against the singer, whose arm twined around her neck. Few in the audience would have any doubt what the words were about.

Audiences love drama and soap operas. Anna and Michelle cuddling on stage was pure Sapphic love and the crowd began clapping and hooting. Whether it was a common fantasy for guys to watch two lesbians making out and girls to relate to the close emotional bond, Mick had little doubt they were onto a winner. At the conclusion, Anna fed her tongue clearly into Michelle's mouth and the crowd went wild.

Even Mick was taken aback by the sheer eroticism of that kiss. Okay, it was old hat - Russian band Tatou had done it, and there was, of course, Britney Spears and Madonna. But the crowd could see there was no bullshit about it and the feeling between the two was real.

Mick took the band into the single they all hated and the crowd raged along with them. Few of them would've heard the song before but they all jumped around as if it was an old favourite. The gig was working, thought Mick, and he wondered what Blue Rembrandt were going to think. The Curse had seized their audience right in front of their noses and he doubted they'd be too happy about that.

The applause rolled behind them as they made their way offstage. Normally, there'd be a twenty minute interval before the headline for no greater purpose than to allow the crowd to forget about the last act. Twenty minutes later, however, the audience were still baying for an encore and Blue Rembrandt weren't going to go on into that.

Not that Mick cared a feather - this was simply the business and everyone took their chances and gave it their best shot. Eventually, after 40 minutes, Blue Rembrandt had to go on and try to swing the audience back. Mick listened for a while from the wings and thought the crowd was a lot flatter. He'd no doubt they were going to hear more about that.

Sabra was absolutely ecstatic and hugged and kissed everyone again. Then it was quickly off into the van and back to the Valley. Time to change and wind down before the usual review.

"Oh, God, oh, fuck!" laughed Sabra, "Fricker's going to be pissed."

"Fricker?" asked Mick.

"Sam Fricker of Talent Management Incorporated. He handles Blue Rembrandt. He's going to be so pissed off, Mick. You won hands down tonight and made the Blueboys seem like schoolboys."

"Tough," he shrugged, "but nine more gigs with them? It's going to get a little strained."

"Aw, they're not stupid. They'll pull something out of the hat. We're all professionals, or should be. If they want to throw a fit, that's their problem. I just love being in this position," she grinned.

"Great show, Anna," Mick told her, "you came out locked and loaded."

"Mick, I didn't know you could do that punk style so well. How are you going to get through the tour playing that fast? You mind your hands, pal, and don't tear up your fingers."

"Tape," Mick said, "and plenty of rest."

"The old body not as frisky as it was?" she chuckled.

"Not ready for the Zimmer frame yet."

"So I've heard. Michelle, how do you control this old sod? I never could."

"He's really sweet," Michelle replied, "and reliable!" she added, pointedly.

"Reliable? Good Grief! Karen, daughter, you take care of your hands, too. Make sure you limber up and tape your wrists."

"I will, mother."

"Mother? I just can't get used to it. Just call me Sabra for now, huh? Just let me get used to all this."

"Sure, ah, Sabra."

"Now, chill out everybody and rest as soon as you're ready. See you all for breakfast, what, about 10, 11?"

"Sounds fine," said Mick, grinning.

The Curse weren't exactly the talk of the town the next morning, but it was clear, the buzz had started. The LA Times wanted to do a story and sent a reporter around. TV wanted a 2 minute video of the gig and an interview with Anna. Sales of the CD were steadily growing and it was expected to chart within the next day or so.

The next evening, Junior had to do a sound check within 10 minutes and Blue Rembrandt's crew were a little less cooperative. Their management asked The Curse to shorten their set - already, the politics was starting to undercut them. Sabra insisted they had a contract and they'll play right up to the last minute. Any fucking about with their set and she'll have STA's lawyers crawling all over them. Blue Rembrandt had to eat crow and accept that The Curse was going to blow them off the stage for night after night for the next nine gigs.