Rehearsal

Band practice tonight, at Rock Club as usual. We were playing through a (partly) new arrangement of a new song. The door opens - we leave it unlocked, and the practice space is home to a bunch of bands, each with their own room - in walks some kid, ostensibly impressed at how we sounded. Nice kid - wide-eyed, obviously only recently sprung loose from mom's teet. He hangs for a bit, leaves, and later comes back with an entourage - the entire band plus one extra non-musician guy. They listen to a song, we ask their ages, they're all about 20. Nice kids, all. Did I mention that already? I barely remember being 20 and I was wondering how much I resembled these guys when I was their age. One of the kids said we sounded like Magazine, which was amazing - I happen to love Magazine but they were before these kids' time and obscure enough that almost no one mentions them anymore. Then Nice Kid #1 asks if they can borrow a high hat - we say no, we only have one and we're using it, duh. Anyway, if you're looking for a moral or a point to this story, I'm sorry to disappoint but there isn't one. Maybe it demonstrates the cross-dimensional / generational unifying power of music in some small sense. Or maybe they just wanted to borrow a high hat.