What have I done to earn it?
And what wouldn’t I do to keep it?
“Nash was impressed by bands like The Black Keys, The White Stripes, The Civil Wars—not just their sound, but their hooks. The White Stripes were all about those colors, the starkness, the driving beats and minimalism. It made them memorable, even before you heard their music. Well, the hook Nash liked was opposites. He didn’t want yin and yang—nothing complementing—he wanted black and white. Light and dark.”
“Front and back,” Lou says, sitting up as she puts the pieces together. “The cover of the first Duncan and Nash album. It’s literally Nash facing forward and Duncan facing back. And theirinterviews! The rare concert footage! It was always Duncan hiding in the shadows, wearing black with his dark roots and that bleached Kurt Cobain hair in front of his face, while Nash dyed his short blond hair darker, right? He was always well-groomed in that white T-shirt. The look was iconic.”
“That was the plan.”
“Duncan didn’t care?”
I swallow hard, wondering how much to reveal, how open to get.
I should answer her.
I should say the words out loud.
But what if she looks at me differently? Sees the cracks, the things I can’t fix?
I keep my mouth shut, shifting my grip on her back, letting my fingers press a little harder, like holding onto her might hold back the truth.
“He was dumb and hungry, and it worked, right? Duncan and Nash made it big.”
“What about you, though?”
My insides squirm.
“Nash didn’t have his master plan all figured out until his senior year. Before then, he was experimenting. He made a classic four-person band, and we started performing on weekends. We had good buzz, too.”
“What did you play?”
“Everything. That was the first hook—a band where everyone switched instruments.”
“I didn’t know Nash could play more than one instrument.”
“Everyone but him,” I correct.
I’m not trying to make this a “dump on Nash” session, because if I start …
If I start …
Lou’s head swivels. “His hook was a backup band that could do everything?” Her nose wrinkles in distaste, and even though I shouldn’t want to tarnish her opinion of him, I appreciate it.
More, I love it.
I love every disgusted line on her angelic face.
“We were big in the college scene. We developed a strong following fast. And one of the reasons was that we invited our fellow musicians on stage to play any song they felt they could hang with. Not a lot could, but the ones who did… well, you’ve heard of them.”
“I’m bettin’ they come through your bar every now and then,” she says, putting more and more pieces together.
I nod.
“That’s kind of awesome.”
“Thanks. I thought so, too.”
“That was your idea? I thought you said Nash was the big-picture guy, not … O’Shannan.”
