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Smalltownboy whose ambitions superseded his resources.Unsupportive, alcoholic parents.Dead-end career paths.Lackof opportunities for musical aspirations.Notsurprisingly,Axeldidn’t believe in family values or buy into the idea of a loving family.Hepreferred solitude and dug his way out with an impromptu college scholarship at sixteen.Hesaid goodbye to his previous life in hopes of bigger and better things.Upongraduating college, he landed a job with this venue, and he’d been with them for three years.
“So, what exactly do you do for the venue?”Iasked tentatively.
“AV.Theysell in-house sound andDJpackages for their wedding and corporate events.Irun their lighting, sound, and everything else related toAV.Andthey give me thirty percent of the cut.”
Thosecheap fuckers. “ButIthought the industry standard was a fifty-fifty split.”
Heregarded me carefully. “Itis.”
“Thenwhy work for this venue?”
“Iwork with multiple venues.Ihave a laptop and software to make music.”Henodded at the laptop he’d brought with him. “ButIprefer venues with flexible hours and in-house equipment.Thingslike speakers, turntables, cables, a built-in sound system.”
Iheard a basicDJequipment system ran a few thousand dollars.Itwasn’t an absurd amount of money.Hecould probably save that much within a few weeks.So… “Couldn’tyou buy those items by saving a few paychecks?Thenyou can cut out the middleman?”
“That’sthe plan, eventually.Butthe equipmentIwant,” his back straightened, “it’ll take me a while to save up for it.”
Understandingdawned on me.Hedidn’t want good enough equipment to play at some thirsty club on ladies' night.Hewanted to pursue music professionally and wanted industry-grade products.SinceChateauat theHempsteadhad a built-in sound system, it allowed him to keep working as aDJand produce new music while simultaneously saving to buy brand equipment used by the likes of celebrityDJs.
“You’resaving up to buy the best,”Ideduced.
Axelnodded, listing the array of equipment and the sound system he planned to purchase.
Unlikeme,Axelwas patient and disciplined.Withhis sights set on the long haul, he wasn’t opposed to paying his dues first.Hehad mapped out the next several years of life, including his rise to success.Theundeterred ambition stumped me.Hegraduated from college at nineteen and saved every penny for the last three years.Hestill had ways to go if he wanted to do things the right way.Producingmusic in soundproof recording studios.Priceyequipment.Anequipment van.Costof roadies for setup at shows.Travelcost for shows.Fuck.Therewere so many costs for start-up artists.
Imentally calculated the total as he spoke.Itwas a lot of money.WithNewYorkrent prices, and based on whatIpresume he made at each gig, it would take him a few more years to reach his goals.Ididn’t have to say it, however.Axelwas aware; this was a well-crafted five-year plan.
“Ihope you do it,”Ispoke meekly, feeling deflated over the long road ahead of him.
Axeltilted his head in acknowledgment.Iknew without a doubt he’d accomplish his goals.Hewas a man with a lot to prove, teeming with potential.Hewasn’t the kind to let his dreams wane.
“So,”Inodded at the keyboard, “shall we?”
Wespent the next forty-five minutes with me at the portable keyboard and him messing with hisDJsoftware.AtempoIhad been fiddling with seemed appropriate for the theme of this night.Besidethe fire, the only available lighting was the hazy green glow from the beach’s dock.Ipresumed the light was strategically placed so guests could find their way around the beach at night.Underthe faint light,Iput my fingers on the black and white keys of the board and played the beginning portion of the composition.Helistened for a few beats.Tamperingwith hisDJsoftware, he swiftly crafted a backdrop beat.
Ilistened for several seconds but didn’t recognize the song.
“That’san original,”Isaid almost accusatorily.Ihad an inklingAxelwrote music, but the guitar track in the background surprised me. “Youplay the guitar?”
Henodded.
“Butyou said your town didn’t have a music program at school.”
Anothernod. “Itaught myself.”
Holyshit.Ihad never taught myself anything in life.Notonly hadAxeltaught himself how to play the guitar, but he also incorporated it into his music… and mine.Hehad simply listened to the jingleIhad been working on for weeks and thought of the perfect song to complement it.Thenhe remixed it and compressed it into a perfect fit.Hethought of it just off the top of his head.How?IttookDJsweeks and months to produce songs.Evenmixing music took time.Whereashe had a natural ear for it.Hehadn’t an ounce of human emotion, yet music poured out of him as if he were made of nothing but.
Somethingunspoken passed between us.Usinghis music as a base and the green light as a guide,Istarted playing my tune and was shocked when it led me to the natural composition of the next notationIhad been struggling with.Theremixed version of the old song blended harmoniously with each chord, andIhad to admit it was sexy as hell.Sexierthan anythingIhad written before; the tune dripped with erotic energy.
Weplayed in synchronicity and argued three more times before settling on the right combo.Fightand make-up seemed to beoursynchronicity and felt like our natural habitat.NothingwithAxelfelt forced, even fighting.
Ipulled the small keyboard off my lap and set it aside as he did the same with his laptop.
Heperused me thoughtfully. “YouattendedJuilliard.”
“Hm.”
“Howcan your family not trust your judgment after you graduated from the best music school in the world?”
