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Smell of the Crowd by Maddy Bell
Copyright© 2022 Madeline Bell
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Opel Fruits
"Pretty cool about Saturday huh?” Mist suggested as we walked the few metres along the street to our hotel, Höll am Main which conveniently is barely 50m from tonight's venue.
"I guess,” I agreed as nonchalantly as I could.
"You don’t sound too happy about it.”
"Of course I am.”
The appearance on Britta’s show last week has certainly raised BlauHase stock, there’s no doubt that having Saturdays gig broadcast live not just in Hessen but across much of the country will expose the band to many opportunities that we’d otherwise maybe never get. Its really quite exciting, after the tribulations of yesterday, the guys were buzzing throughout the sound check. I think the band is good anyway but being part of it that’s pretty much a taken, even so I’m not really sure how I feel about this latest development.
For me, this couple of weeks was as much about having a break from my normal routine of college and bikes – oh I know I’ve still done some riding but at home everything pretty much rotates around bikes, what we do, when and even where we eat and so on. This was a chance to get out of that environment for a bit, I wasn’t looking to change my career track, the singing with the guys is just a bit of fun.
This broadcast could change that, almost certainly it will change that and I’m not sure I want it to. At the same time, I don’t want to let the guys down, this sort of opportunity doesn’t come along very often, this could, no should be their big break, a chance to leave the sweaty bierkellers of Bonn behind. Do I want to be the pink haired singer in a punk goth band for maybe years to come?
"Earth to Gaby?”
"Uhm?”
"You were miles away,” Misty stated.
"Yeah, sorry, just thinking.”
"Well think which bed you want.”
"Bed?”
Seems that in my musing daydream I’d got not only to the hotel but up to our room as well.
"Whichever.”
I do usually try to nab the bed closest to the bathroom but that was moot in this surprisingly large room, the bathroom door was set midway along the opposite wall.
"I’ll take the window then,” Mist advised.
Usually we’ve stopped for some lunch en route between locations but given the short hop today we had no need to stop and with all the business with Britta and Saturday, well we managed to miss eating lunch. A fact that my stomach loudly bemoaned as I started unpacking.
"What the hell was that?” Mist demanded.
"Soz, think I need food.”
"It’ll be dinner soon.”
"Not for like three hours,” I pointed out, "Think I’ll see if I can find a bakery or something, you coming?”
"I’m not that hungry but I guess I could manage coffee.”
"Come on then,” I enthused.
When we returned to the great outdoors it was into late afternoon sunshine, the damp of this morning only remembered in a few small puddles along the roadsides. We headed back along Mainstraße past Das Rind and up to the Marktplatz where, so the girl at the hotel reception advised, we would find what we were after. Despite its name there were no signs of a market at the square, just some sticklike trees sprouting from the pavement and some teens variously using the space as a BMX park and general meeting place.
We walked around the perimeter, no point drawing more attention to ourselves than my hair and Mist’s distinctly interesting garb and appearance already did. The Cafe am Markt occupies a chunk of the ground floor of what is essentially a three story apartment block, not only was it open but there were tables outside. Okay, its a bit early in the year for going al fresco but it was just about warm enough to sit there for coffee.
I was two spoons into my bowl of Gulaschsuppe, well i'm hungry, when tangerine head spoke.
"What’s up Gab?”
"Up?
"Up,” she repeated, "I’ve known you long enough to know when you’ve got something on your mind.”
I paused in my soup inhalation, "That obvious huh?”
"Yup,” she agreed.
"Its Saturday.”
"Don’t tell me you’re nervous?”
"Well maybe a little but its not that.”
"What then? Just think we’ll be singing away and all those people across Germany will be listening, this week Frankfurt, next New York or London.”
"That’s just it Mist, I’m not sure I want that.”
"You’re kidding right?”
"I’m serious, this was never supposed to be any more than a little local band dipping their toes into bigger world, it wasn’t supposed to be live radio to the whole country.”
"I thought that was the whole point? Play some gigs, get some fans who buy the records and stuff, then repeat until, well until its over.”
"But that’s not me Mist, I’m the Weltmeisterin Radfahrer not some music diva charging around the planet singing.”
"But I thought you enjoyed singing?”
"I do, I just don’t know if I like it enough to give everything else up.”
"You can still ride as well as sing, you raced on Sunday remember.”
"At some point I’ll have to choose, there’ll be a conflict, which do I choose?”
"I think we’re a long way from that stage.”
"Are we though? This time next week we could be in a recording studio, on the telly.”
"Whoa, hold your horses girlfriend, I think you’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves.”
"What about you, are you ready to live from a suitcase for months at a time, travelling every day, never the same bed two nights?”
"Hell yeah!”
I sighed, "You can say that, I can’t, I have a life away from BlauHase.”
We fell into silence then, each lost in their own thoughts. Had I been unfair to intimate that Mist, Nena didn’t have a life back in the Ahrtal? Whilst not the hectic round of stuff that yours truly packs in, she does do stuff, I mean she works some shifts at the Kabin and – okay, not a lot else. This trip was going to be a chance for her to break free of the sometimes stifling Fischer home life and you have to admit, the whole Gothy makeover is certainly that, its just not for me.
"Look, sorry for saying you don’t have a life.”
"Its true though Gab, I don’t. I don’t have a boyfriend, I’ve got, no disrespect, a crappy part time job, my social life is almost non existent, lets face it, I’m a failure.”
"You’re not a failure.”
"Come on Gab, pretty much everyone else is at college studying for a,” she did the air quotes thing, “’career’, they do sports or something, they have friends beyond the people they went to school with…”
"Doesn’t make you a failure, you could still go to college.”
"And study what? I got my certificate – just, lets face it Bond, I never was cut out for formal education.”
She had me there, not to brag but I got the best grades in the whole region for the certificate last year, Nen got a pass but she was firmly in the also rans.
I let a sigh escape my lips, "Maybe nothing will come of Saturday.”
"Yeah,” Mist agreed heavily.
"We should get back,” I raised a hand to summon the help and the bill.
"I guess.”
Back at the hotel Stefan, Animal and BJ were propping up the bar.
"Bit early,” I opined.
"You can join us,” BJ stated.
"Think I had enough last night. So we eating here tonight?”
"Bit pricey,” Animal told us in a stage whisper.
"Armin reckons there’s a decent Chinese place just up the street,” Stefan told us.
"Guess I’d be up for that, Mist?”
"Sure,” she agreed.
"Half to seven?” Stefan suggested.
I checked my watch, "We coming back here after?”
"Weren’t planning to but I guess you could, its only like fifty metres from Das Rind after all,” our leader observed.
"Six thirty it is then, don’t drink too much, they still need to sail on the Main.”
"Cheeky mare,” Animal responded with a bit of a grin on his face.
"Laters.”
Mist and i had clearly unknowingly walked past China Restaurant Panda on our earlier sojourne into the town, it occupies a unit about as far beyond tonight’s venue as the hotel is the other just before Mainstraße joins the Marktplatz. Maybe we’d missed seeing it as the double glazed plastic frontage looks more laundry than restaurant. As the eight of us filed through the door it was clear that this was no traditional Chinese food outlet.
For starters, the décor lacked the usual over the top red and gold theme, instead the walls are stark white, decorated with very modern mural like panels and blocks of colour. There was nothing subtle about the lighting either and even the furniture was more Bauhaus than chintz. It was surprisingly busy for quarter to seven but they quickly moved a bit of furniture about, allowing us all to sit around one generous sized table.
On the other hand, the menu was quite extensive, a mix of the traditional with a sort of German twist. Some staples like Peking Duck were missing but on the other hand there was a good selection of sea food and vegetable dishes on offer. I often go for beef in black bean sauce but that wasn’t on offer, instead I went for a number thirty seven, duck in red curry sauce and vegetable rice after a starter of Peking soup.
Our order would take a bit of preparation so once the waiter – you ever notice its always men in these places, well once he’d gone, conversation turned from food to this afternoon’s unexpected news. Of course, the lads were taking things more at face value than my angst ridden take on things.
"What’s the betting Robert’s ordering up more t shirts,” Marcus mentioned.
"He’d better,” Hilde observed, "We’ll likely be cleared out tonight.”
"Really?” Animal queried.
"What about the CD’s? He mentioned pressing more up earlier,” Stefan put in.
"Think there’s about a box left after last night,” LJ’s better half advised.
"Should cover the beer,” BJ suggested.
"I can’t believe we sold all that lot in like two days,” I told the table.
"We doing the standard set on Saturday?” Animal asked.
"Its worked so far,” Stefan observed.
"Pekingsuppe?”
Our waiter was back with a tray of starters.
"Er here,” I chirped raising a hand.
And so conversation was replaced by consumption, thoughts of Saturday replaced by Chinese food in the collectives mind.
"See you in a bit,” I offered when we got to Das Rind, the guys heading to the bar whilst Mist and I returned to the Höll to get changed and tarted up for the gig.
"Don’t be too long,” Stefan instructed.
"As quick as,” I promised before breaking into a trot to catch up to Mist.
I know I’ve been going out on stage in front of, well hundreds of people in a variety of costumes for the last week or so but unlike my friend, I’m still not exactly comfortable looking like an extra from Rocky Horror outside of that context. Tonight my ladies maid has done something of a number on me, full on Goth makeup and my strawberry locks teased and plaited into a cross between Bavarian princess and a five year old! At least I got to decide what I’m wearing – okay its the slightly flouncy thing that hints at more than it shows but I’m fairly comfortable with it.
"Come on Gab, we’ll be late,” Mist urged.
"Its alright for you, you’re not wearing sixteen centimetre heels,” I pointed out as I used the wall for support descending the steps to the pavement.
"You could’ve worn something else to get to the venue,” she noted.
"Yeah well.”
She wasn’t wrong but its only a few metres along to Das Rind, I’ve no beef with that, and its something else to worry about afterwards. At least if I wear my boots I’ve only got me to worry about its just stairs that can be a problem – just try walking on your toes next time you go down a staircase. Anyway its alright for Mist, she’s wearing platform boots, they’re actually mine, well Jules really but I’ve sort of borrowed them but Mist has hijacked them.
I reached the bottom of the steps and we tottered and clumped our way up to the venue where I was surprised, although I’m not sure why, by the gathering of, how can I put it, alternatively dressed individuals outside of Das Rind’s streetside bar. To be honest, I, we don’t really get to see the gig goers other than a sea of bodies from the stage. Occasionally someone might catch your eye – there was a guy on Saturday who must’ve been well over two metres tall, but usually its just a blur.
Its not something I’ve given much thought to, who our ‘fans’ are, well I suppose it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that they don’t turn up in ball gowns, tiaras and the men in suits. It was only as we navigated our way past the early gig goers, drinking and chatting on a Rüsselheim street that I got more of an idea. There were more men than women, the former wearing lots of leather and denim, the latter for the most part wearing some level of Goth – Mists day outfits would fit right in, oh and there were at least two tiaras!
The pair of us got a few curious looks as we made our way to the entrance, probably due to our unnatural hair shades more than anything else.
Armin was at the door when we reached it.
"Looks like a good crowd tonight ladies.”
"Er yeah, they’re a bit early,” I suggested.
"I dunno, they get here early, have a drink or two, meet their friends then do the gig.”
"I guess.”
"See you later.”
"Er yeah.”
Inside Hilde was busy setting up our merchandise stand with rather more stock than I remember being in the bus.
"Where’d this lot come from?”
"Oh hi Erd, Robert brought it about thirty minutes ago.”
"You need a hand?” Mist offered.
"Do I! Can you help me move these t shirts?”
"I’ll go find the guys,” I told them but they were already woman handling a huge cardboard box off of the table.
In the auditorium, tonight’s support were doing a soundcheck, as usual they were a local outfit organised by the venue. This lot weren’t the usual though being all female, well they were all in heavy Goth makeup wearing lots of black PVC, leather and lace so it was difficult to tell for sure. The drum skin identified them as ‘Adams Opels’, a play on the local manufacturing giant’s name, maybe the Gothic crowd outside were here to see these guys as much as BlauHase?
I found the rest of the band in what passed as the green room behind the stage.
No sooner was I across the threshold than Stefan asked, "Where’s Misty?”
"Helping Hilde with the merch, why?”
"Just checking,” he replied maybe slightly cagily.
"The support look like they mean business.”
"Yeah,” Animal agreed, "Sam went to college with the bass player so we’ve seen them a couple of times, they’ve got a good following locally.”
"That might explain the big crowd out front, there must be at least fifty out there already.”
"Some people like to arrive early,” Marcus observed.
"I guess, there any Sprite® over there?”
Maddy Bell © 22.04.2022
