2019-08-11 - A Band Is Born

It's a big house. Sure, it looks big from the outside, but the general emptiness inside makes it seem bigger. These people are in desperate need of some real furniture. Through the foyer, behind the stairs leading up to the second floor, there's a door which leads down into the basement, and that's where barefoot Sparrow leads Garrett, a lightswitch flipped at the top of the stairs to illuminate the world below. "What I'm hoping is that when we all sit down together and start playing, we'll just find something that clicks. A starting point, anyway." She glances back as she rounds the corner at the bottom of the steps and heads toward her drums. "What do you like to play, Garrett? What do you listen to?"

Garrett follows Sparrow downstairs, giving the place a cursory glance around before they descend. "Seems like as good a place to start as any," he agrees, looking over at the drums. "Oh, I listen to all kinds of things. My playlist went from Zeppelin to Decemberists to Charly Bliss between home and here, so... pretty all over the place. Usually play more bluesy stuff when I'm alone, or some Primus type stuff if I'm blowing off steam or whatever. Played in a couple bands before moving out here, mostly like kind of alt rock grunge sort of sounds."

Sparrow plops down on the folding chair behind her drums, a bit askew to suggest the last thing she was doing here was probably more talking and less playing. Folding chairs are the only other furnishings down here besides a small folding table next to the drum set, currently hosting a pen and notebook. And her phone, just dropped there. "Already got one up on the last person to answer the ad." After a beat, she corrects, "Two. Two up. Experience and ease in communicating the breadth of your tastes. Hard to believe someone who tells me they love music, but can't tell me what they love, ya know?" She picks up her phone again as she asks, "How'd you end up out here?" And then looks up as she adds, "And you know this isn't where you're gonna get famous, right? We're just playing cuz we love to play." No big dreams here. Nope.

"Well, can be hard to talk about what sort of music you like sometimes. Lot of people say they like everything, only then they find out the radio isn't everything, yeah?" Garrett shrugs, then pulls up a chair, settling across from the drum kit. "Moved out here for work. Got lucky, landed a job as a park ranger up at Olympic," he explains. "But even with the drive, cheaper to live here than anywhere closer," he adds. "No worries, I'm not crossing fingers to be the next Nirvana or any of that."

Sparrow looks up from her texting with an 'oh yeah?' sort of expression at the unexpected answer about work, giving Garrett a good look over as she adds this new information to her assessment. With a snorted laugh, she answers, "Good," for the last. She sends off one last text then sets her phone back down. "Not that I wanna stand in the way of anyone's big dreams, but I just wanna play. I want it to be the thing that gets me away from schoolwork and real work and whatever. Not the place I hang my hopes." With a cant of her head, she asks, "Did you bring your bass? Looks like Jaime might be able to make it by, so maybe we can make this thing happen?"

"Yeah, no, I kind of love my job so far, so getting huge would actually be kind of awkward," Garrett confesses. "Bass? Why would I bring that to come talk music?" Garrett grins then pushes to his feet. "Yeah, brought the bass and the baby amp with, can make a bit of noise if we want." And with that he's making for the stairs to go fetch his gear, leaving Sparrow at the drum kit.

"And a dry sense of humor to go with the cute accent," Sparrow croons approvingly as Garrett gets up. Before he's up the stairs, she's already adjusting her chair, bringing it right back in place. He'll probably hear a few hits of the base or high hat before he's out of earshot, a couple pedal tests to make sure she's comfortable. But by the time anyone joins her in the basement again, she's sunken into a slouch with her phone picked up again, probably texting some more. Given that none of the local phones are going off, though, who knows who she's chattering at.

Jaime's old beat-up truck rumbles up to the house and he hops out, grabbing his own gear out of the back, a hard-sided rolling case and his guitars, the acoustic and the electric. He makes his way inside, but having not enough hands to grab a crepe, just heads on down to the basement, knowing the way. He can be heard before he's seen, opening the door and clomping down the stairs with all his stuff.

Garrett offers a nod and not much more to Jaime on the way out to grab his own gear, but once he lugs his own hard case and a hundred watts of amp down to the basement, his greeting is a bit warmer. "Nice to meet you. I'm Garrett," he offers the new face, accompanied by a nod and smile.

Were Sparrow a better hostess, she might get up to help the guys with their gear as they head downstairs. As it is, she only bothers to look up when she notices that is way too much noise to be one person. "Hey!" is probably for Jaime since she was talking face to face with Garrett just a couple minutes ago. Straightening, she, once more, drops her phone and focuses her full attention on the pair. The way her shoulders draw up a little, the way one foot starts tapping absently on the floor, how her gaze flits quickly between the two... yeah, she's starting to look a bit excited. This might actually be happening. "Garrett here is a park ranger who has played in a few grungy bands before ending up out here. Jaime is a truck driver who still has a few solo gigs on rotation. And Sparrow is a big old nerd who just likes to make noise." Beat. "This is good."

Jaime opens up his gear and begins setting it up off to one side from the drum kit. "Hey," he says to her with a grin as he does. When Garrett comes back downstairs, he takes a step over and offers a hand. "Jaime. Nice to meet you, too." He then grins at the introductions that Sparrow makes. "Yeah, that pretty much sums it up." He finishes hooking up the electric and the small amp before pulling over a stool to park himself on.

Garrett pauses in his own connecting and plugging to give the offered hand a shake. "Some solo stuff, huh? I'm guessing you sing, too, or...?" he ventures, clipping a tuner to his bass's headstock and starting to tune up. His bass is a clearly Fender-esque design with G&L emblazoned on the headstock, a tobacco burst finish, and more knobs and switches than a bass really needs. "You know, if nothing else, we definitely look like a band," he assures nobody in particular.

Restless Sparrow watches with her drumsticks in hand, knees bouncing while she waits. "We do," comes her agreement with Garrett's assessment. "And if neither of you guys sing and we can't coax Runa to get in on this--" Cuz Runa definitely can sing. "--I am loud and shameless." No mention of talent. Flicking a look between the two, she wonders, "Maybe we can find something we all know to start? Black Keys, maybe?" Existing overlap from brief discussion with the bassist, so it's to Jaime that she looks for confirmation. "Just to see how we fit?"

"Little bit," Jaime says to Garrett, and then chuckles as he glances from one to the other, "Yeah, guess we do." He is dressed in a pair of old faded jeans, worn from use rather than deliberate style, work boots, and a faded t-shirt with the Two if By Sea logo on it. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back a bit. He chuckles at Sparrow's offer to sing loudly and shamelessly and gives her a thumbs-up. "Sure," he says. "Pick something."

"Here's hoping we sound like one two, yeah?" Garrett grins as he powers up his amp, plucking a few strings and giving a satisfied nod." How about 'I Got Mine'? Simple enough that we should be able to more or less keep up with each other without huge issues?" he suggests. "Probably doesn't matter that much who sings just now, drums being loud and all, unless you wanted to get that set up first," he points out, nodding towards a mic stand off to the side.

When the song is suggested, Sparrow takes a second to think back then... Bang! Bang-bang-bang, bang-bang-bang. Yeah, she remembers the song, but has the courtesy to stop when Garrett directs attention to the mic. "Oh, shit. Yeah..." Someone might've just been looking forward to banging on stuff. She turns a wide-eyed look to Jaime 'Little Bit' Kelly, now the singer whether he meant to be or not, as if to ask if he wants, ya know, an actual mic to sing into. Not that she actually waits for an answer before she sets her drumsticks down--parallel, perfect, habitual--and pads over to start helping out with that. It's at a weird height, having not been used for a while, but she gets it plugged in, adjusted. "Good, yeah?" It's not pointed at her, barely picking up what isn't actually a mic check.

Jaime glances at both of them and then shrugs, "Sure." He waits for Sparrow to get out the mic, and then pulls it a bit closer, adjusting the height until it's about right for him to sing into. Then he nods to the others and fiddles a bit with the guitar, getting himself settled. Once he's satisfied with the sound, he nods to them both, apparently ready to give it a shot. "Let's see how this goes," he says with a grin.

"Awesome." Garrett nods as the mic gets put in position and Jaime gets situated. "Well, it starts with just you two, so whenever you two are ready..." he trails off, fiddling with his strap a bit until his bass is hanging exactly where it was in the first place, clearly ready to come in when necessary, looking equal parts nervous and super stoked for vaguely musical noise-making.

Sparrow gives Jaime a big old weird, wild-eyed smile that probably has less to do with him than all the excitement rushing through her body before she dashes back to her drums and gets back into position. Thump-thump-clash. Yeah, yeah. Right here. Deep breath. Good. She rolls her shoulders and looks to Jaime and counts out, "One, two, three, four." The next 'one' brings another bang, repetition of the rhythm she remembered just a minute ago. She starts hard, heavy, her excitement leaving her coming down on her drums a little hard for the first few bars. But once they sink into their rhythm, she's good, easy, confident. And grinning like a giddy idiot the whole time. Except when she makes even weirder faces.

Jaime grins at Sparrow and shakes his head a bit at that crazy smile, but it's a little contagious. He falls into the song naturally, the volume of his guitar adjusted until all of the instruments can be heard together. When he leans in to sing, he actually doesn't have a bad voice, either. He grins a bit as they all begin to get into the swing of things, nodding his head as they all seem to get into rhythm, and then closing his eyes a bit as he gets caught up in the playing, the singing.

Garrett has played this one once or twice before, so he has no trouble hitting the right notes... though his excitement and unchecked enthusiasm maybe lead to less than perfect technique, occasionally hitting the strings against the pickups for a less than ideal buzz with the notes in question. It doesn't seem to bother him, though, and over the collective sound of the trio it's easy to ignore those small flaws. When the song is over he looks more than a little pleased. "Well it wasn't blinding, but it sure wasn't rubbish," Garrett declares, smiling just as wide as his companions and voice going full-on Harry Potter. "I think you sing more than you let on," he adds, tone teasingly accusing as he glances at Jaime.

Sparrow erupts into laughter as the last notes are struck, rough and loud, a release of energy that all that banging on her drums didn't defuse. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she counters Garrett giddily. "Right out the gates!" It sounds like there should be, ya know, a second half to that sentence there, but nothing else comes. The drummer slumps back in her chair with a wide, low-lidded smile like she's just enjoyed something sensually satisfying. Like a fine meal. Or excise a physical itch that's been building for days. "You guys wanna do that again in front of people, my roommates and neighbors keep talking about a cookout, and we've got a bit old yard we could set up in to annoy the neighbors." Eyes opening a little further, she adds, "Covers of whatever overlap we have until we start working on something original?" That seems mostly directed toward Jaime, known song-writer, brows arched inquisitively.

Jaime is probably the most calm one out of all of them. It's not that he doesn't have energy. He definitely pours himself into the music, and that can be heard in the way that he plays, but he seems to retain a certain mellow throughout that just goes along with his personality. He grins over at Sparrow as that frenetic energy seems to continue to bubble out of her even after the song is over. He leans back on his stool a bit and grins broadly, "Not half bad for a first go." Then he considers and says, "Depends on when it is. I might have to drive then, but we'll see." But on the topic of covers he nods and says, "Yeah, covers probably until we figure out what our sound is."

"Sounds like a solid plan," Garrett agrees in regards to covers. "Be cool to play in front of people again, but yeah, not sure we can pull of much with drums and bass, so whatever works for you and work and whatever," he says, nodding at Jaime. "Well, I picked the first one. Anyone got any other suggestions, or do we want to give that one another go and try cleaning it up a touch?" His gaze flicks from Sparrow to Jaime and back, letting them decide the course of action.

Sparrow rolls her eyes at the question of when the cookout might be, shrugging. "Lots of talking." Which is to say not a lot of happening. "I'll letcha know when I know. But I'm pretty willing to start a riot, elbows and all, pretty much whenever." Her definition of 'riot' is definitely not in line with dictionary standard. She gives one drumstick a little twirl while the suggestion of continuing is made, a little scrunch of her brow marking thought. "Why is my brain suddenly empty?" she mutters more to herself, adrenaline plainly pushing all her knowledge right out of her head. Refocusing to flick a look between Garrett and Jaime, she wonders, "Does sound come before name or vice versa? And neither of you know Sunflower Bean, do you? Come for Me? That is literally the only song in my head right now."

"I mean, we could come up with a name first and then a sound, but then we'd either need to try to make the sound work with the name, or the name work with the sound, or .." Jaime laughs. "I don't know, to be honest. I always joined up with folks who already had a band and a name and a sound and I just kind of fit in wherever. Or I play on my own and don't have a name.. just my own. So, this is kind of new to me." He then nods to Garrett and says, "Could play this one again." When Sparrow mentions Sunflower Bean, he shakes his head, having no idea who that is. "But I can pull it up on my phone and listen to it a couple of times and give it a try."

"Sound then name," comes Garrett's input on that matter. "And cookout, sooner you can figure out when the sooner I can see about whether I have to be at work that day, so keep me posted, yeah?" He grins at the pair, but also has to shake his head at Sparrow. "First I heard of them is you on the porch, but yeah, can always give something a listen or two and wing it? We'll just maybe keep our expectations low," he adds with a soft, under his breath chuckle.

"You heard Helgrind, right?" Sparrow chirps over to Jaime, her grin open and wide. Death metal name, pop-punk sound. Evidently, she's got no problem whatsoever with any potetial mismatch. Her smile softens a bit as the fact that this is new for him registers, a little glimmer of pride maybe caught in her big brown eyes. She breathes a quiet laugh as she straightens and nods. "We'll send each other some stuff. Find what we all like. But, for now, more Black Keys. Polish this one up. Maybe Sinister Kid or... you comfortable with one of their new ones? Hi/Lo? I got beer enough down here to last us the afternoon, gentlemen."

Jaime laughs, "There's a band name -- Lowered Expectations." He grins broadly at the both of them, not serious at all. He nods when Sparrow mentions Helgrind, because of course he had. But he nods at the idea to send one another some thoughts later on. "No rush, really. It's not like we've got a deadline on figuring it out." He nods when she mentions some of the other songs, "I can do any of those." Those, he is familiar with.

"Oh noooo, not beer and music through the afternoon, anything but that," Garrett makes a show of 'pleading', but never once even tries to stop smiling at the idea. "I'm up on pretty much all the Black Keys' stuff, so that's all fair game for me," he says, nodding along. "No idea about Helgrind, but nothing a shared folder of suggestions won't fix up over the next week or so." He takes a deep breath, then lets it out in a heavy, content sounding sigh. "This was a good idea," he declares, glancing around.