“BANG BANG, your doomsday’s delayed another day, doesn’t make your morning better nooowww… All I do is complain!”
People crashed into each other. Beers sloshed. My head was pounding, and everything swirled. The bass was unrelenting. Unforgiving. The bass - more than mere sound. A vibration. A frequency. My fingers… it was me doing that, me creating that feeling. It seemed almost… angry. It sent the world tumbling, all colourful lights and chaos. With the drums and Tommy’s flaring guitar, everything collapsed into everything. And I crashed hard.
My eyes staggered open, ears ringing with the madness. I could have sworn I was at the Crown… on that stage playing the synth bass. Was I dreaming all of those scenes? Repeating the gig in my sleep? Dreams and reality seemed to melt into one, and I couldn’t recall which was real. Realising I couldn’t make sense of it, I reluctantly pulled myself out of bed and carried out my morning duties. Sitting at my desk, cereal crunching between my teeth, the scenes of our SHEEP show continued to swirl in my head. All I do is complaiiiinnn…. BANG BANG.
I felt heavier than we had played, for a wonder. I only had one beer… The free one you get for playing. Why did I feel like chewed lead? Regardless, I had important matters to attend to that day. The most important, in fact - the most necessary. Leaning over the clutter on my desk, I shuffled some papers together, placed my CV at the top, and slid it all into my bag. I couldn’t help but let out a grim chuckle at my CV. Oh how that had failed me. Even with my somewhat noteworthy achievements - a scholarship, reasonable grades - and a qualification in Hospitality Management, I was still unable to secure a job after months of searching. It frustrated me to no end. But finally, I had made the necessary decision. Slinging the bag over my shoulder and putting my Feiyue shoes on, I trudged out of the Pit - up those slowly-rotting wooden stairs - to face that day, grey as it was.
It was Tommy’s vocals that really churned through my thoughts. No LAUGHTER No LAUGHTER no…! All I do…! The sound of it was so raw, I didn’t even put in headphones. Listening to anything else would be like eating mud with a mouthful of sand. I didn’t fight the onslaught in my head. I let it be; let the chaos continue to surge through my mind untethered, untamed. Before making my descent into town, I staggered into Dog with Two Tails for my daily coffee, and plonked down on one of the outside tables. BANG BANG your dooms day… “Here’s your latte…” Sight of the golden drink brought me back. “Ah thank you.” I sipped my coffee - it offered momentary relief. I knew it was a luxury I couldn’t afford, and yet I was stubborn enough to buy it, as I had done every morning for the past couple of months. I didn’t seem to care. I had made my decision, anyway. After scraping the bottom of the glass with the spoon, I exit the cafe, and went to face Dunedin city.
George Street was just as it always was: bustling with town folk about their duties, whether important or trivial. My duty was both, I supposed. Certainly a necessary duty… As I made my way down the street, I remembered what this place was like just 5 months back, my eyes glistening with excitement as to what magic I would discover here. Back then, I wondered how I could make best use of my talents and skills to contribute to the flourishing artistic and creative community. It was my so called ‘Quest’. Over the months, the winter crawled its way into our lives, and the chill was settling into Dunedin like hoarfrost in bramble. It seemed to freeze my circumstances to, and shatter my ‘Quest’. Sure, I had made a few piano music videos which I was proud of. They were fun to make, but they didn’t do anything for me in terms of securing some kind of financial anything, or even get any interest online. Quest… “Hah! What a joke,” I mumbled to myself. What Quest? I failed my Quest in every regard. Pursuing it lead me to ruin, in fact. Was it worth it? Maybe… It didn’t matter now anyway. I had made my decision.
Doesn’t make your morning…Bang BANG. Bang BANG Tommy’s lyrics continued their brutal cascade. And I continued my plod, heading to do what I should have done long ago. I should have done it right from the very beginning. Oh how snubbed I felt. Almost cheated. But I only had myself to blame for how miserably my plans had failed. I was the cheater and the cheated. At least SHEEP was fun. It was an epic show we played, at that. There is no other way that it would still be so vivid and aggressive in my mind, even 15 hours later. I smiled at that, actually. SHEEP was going well, if nothing else was.
I came upon Albion Place, my new busking alley. Busking… Oh I was such a fool to think I could have made a living from busking. A fat lot of use that did me. It supplied enough coin to pay for the groceries. For that, at least, I should have been thankful. But as I ambled past the spot I usually played at, I almost scowled at my naive optimism. To have ever thought I could make a living from it… “Madness,” I breathed under my chin. I was a blind fool. All the questions begging to…
The song that was stuck in my head was SHEEP’s hit single: The government can’t take my Benny. Tommy had written it in response to a referendum that could have potentially ripped his benefit right from his hands - his income. He needed it, as did many other folks. He needed it to survive as an artist and a musician. He once suggested that I get on the benefit. Well, to that, I played all the harder when we performed the song live, as I did the night before, ripping my synth from the make-shift stand and flinging myself across the stage, letting the synth bass voice my deep felt frustration for being unable to find a job; for being unable to make my Quest mean something. The song's lyrics were a cyclone in my thoughts, churning and stormy. Of course it was that song that billowed in my head. Ironic…
I crossed the road, and there it was. The building itself was ‘hidden’, so to speak, the entrance to it being inside a public carpark. “It’s as if they don’t want people to know they exist,” Tommy had said, laughing at the ridiculousness of it. As I entered the cement starkness of the carpark, and saw those sliding doors with guards like statues outside, I couldn’t help but agree with him. It was ridiculous. Why were there guards anyway? It seemed rather silly. One of them scanned his pass as I reached the doors, and they opened. I entered, reluctantly. I wondered if this was the inevitable. I wondered if I had doomed myself to this, the moment I decided to follow my own calling, my own ‘Quest’.
The air was cold and stagnant in there, a far-cry from the rage of my thoughts. BANG BANG Your doomsdays delayed… People milled about, or sat in chairs lazily. Some lined up to a counter that was barely a counter. BANG BANG your doo… I took my place at the end of the line, and it dawdled further. BAN BANG, your d… In a daze, I found myself at the front of the line. I ought to pay more attention. BANG BA… “Next please.”
I must have looked dead in the eyes as I approached the counter. Reaching into my bag, I pulled out my signed paperwork. “Hello. I’m here to sign up for the welfare benefit.”
The Quest was over.
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