We're Trouble Bound

You hear a lot about Jaime Caldwell, the female half of Keep Your Composure’s vocal team. You hear about her drinking. And you hear about the time she allegedly assaulted a police officer. You hear about her all or nothing attitude. So, going into this interview, my mind was filled with strange expectations. I expected some sort of diva, uncooperative and belligerent. I did not expect to find her charming and starkly intelligent. And I was almost surprised that under a slightly thick layer of cliché pretense, she’s incredibly insightful.

Keep Your Composure is recording their third full length album in a studio situated just outside of Los Angeles proper. When I get there, Jaime is already waiting. She’s incredibly enthusiastic and gladly shows me around the studio, even pointing out where her band mate Troy had thrown up the previous night. She’s funny, making jokes and laughing the whole time. I hardly believe this is the same girl that screams so viciously and fights cops.

Jaime, who is drinking a hot tea not a beer, immediately senses my hesitation and very honestly tells me that “Yes, the rumors are probably true… But that doesn’t mean you should be scared.” She finds it laughable that anyone would think she’s intimidating. “I kind of have a lot of personality and people get freaked out by that.”

….

Jaime shares lyric writing responsibility with co-vocalist Gavin Peters. She explains that she knows next to nothing about writing music; she doesn’t even play any instruments. She had no intention of ever being part of a band. Before the band took off, she was an English major at the University of Pittsburgh. “I know that I can do lyrics; writing is nothing for me. I’ll let the guys worry about chord progression and halftime breakdowns… I know what sounds good in a song but I know nothing about how to create it. I’ll stick with the writing.”

Keep Your Composure’s lyrics are hauntingly ferocious. Their last single (and fan favorite) “Mercy Me” is about a cannibalistic priest. Jaime details the process of writing the song, “All of us were sitting around trying to come up with the sickest things we could… And a priest who thinks that eating human flesh is God’s will was a pretty wretched idea. So we went with it.” Jaime doesn’t even flinch when she talks about the mutilation and mayhem that is described in their songs. She speaks of it like she would a song about a break up. (“We have those too!” Jaime insists. “Only they’re about murdering the person who breaks up with you.”) She’s easy going about everything, totally care-free. Her attitude is refreshing. She’s completely open to anything and it’s hard to understand how anyone could think she’s anything but a sweetheart, albeit a slightly deranged sweetheart. If anything, this is what Jaime should be notorious for.

Jaime is indeed notorious. But to make the matter even more mythical, one of her closest friends is equally infamous. Oli Sykes, the bad boy of Bring Me the Horizon, shows up at the studio midway through the interview. He’s recording guest vocals for them along with Nick Martin from Underminded and David Marion of Fear Before, something which Jaime is very excited about. “What I’ve always liked about our band is that multiple layers of sound exist because of the two vocalists. So to add more vocal elements just continues to layer it. And to have some of our good friends helping us out is so awesome. Recording this album is one big party.”

Keep Your Composure spent a good chunk of 2009 touring with Bring Me the Horizon; this is when, Jaime says, she and Oli became friends. At the present moment Oli has come to the studio bearing lunch for the two of them from Jaime’s favorite restaurant. Both are strict vegetarians, just one of their shared traits. Jaime thanks him and says that she should be done after awhile. (“But fuck off right now, babe, I’m busy.”) He just shakes his head, flips the bird and goes to eat his food.

When I ask her about Oli, about how they came to be so candid with one another, Jaime shrugs. She either doesn’t know or isn’t telling. When I suggest that they might be dating, she has an answer shockingly quick. “We’d kill each other if we were; we’re both way too independent.” But she doesn’t even sound convinced. And later on, I see her leaning her head on his shoulder affectionately. It’s a weird juxtaposition, these two alleged rebels being so sincere with each other; it’s almost poignant. It shows a calm side to the manic Jaime.

March

“Goddamnit, I’ll kill that fucking writer… I will slit her fucking throat. Why would she write this?” Jaime scoffed as they stood behind a venue where they had just played a one off show. It was a little rainy and most people were still inside. Only a few people scattered the alleyway.

“Because it makes an interesting story,” Nadine shrugged, puffed on a long thin joint and passed it to Jaime.

“The bitch spent a whole page of our three page cover story talking about me and what I had for fucking lunch…” Jaime pressed the joint to her lips and inhaled. “And the fucking Oliver business. What was she thinking?”

“She was just writing what she saw.”

“But she twisted it to make it sound like something it’s not.” Jaime was more open with Nadine than anyone else. Nadine was the only one who knew specific details of what went on between Oliver and Jaime. Jaime had to tell someone or she might have exploded. Although Nadine knew something more was occurring, Jaime insisted that she and Oliver were good friends that happened to also have sex with each other. She was adamant that there were set boundaries to their friendship

“You mean make it sound like you guys are majorly involved?”

“Majorly involves? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Involved…” Nadine mused. “Practically a couple.”

Jaime rolled her eyes and took a second hit. “You make this a way bigger deal than it is. I think you wish it was like that.”

“Of course I do… I live vicariously through you. And it’s only natural for me to wish that I could have been the one to tie down such a legend.”

“Huh?”

“Oli… before you he was notoriously a womanizing douchebag.”

“He’s still a womanizing douchebag,” Jaime said flatly.

“Not with you he isn’t. He turns into like this super attentive boyfriend type dude, bringing you lunch and what not… Well, as far as I can tell.” Nadine hid the joint as a group of girls walked past, lighting up cigarettes. The girls side-glanced Nadine and Jaime sourly.

“Oliver would make a terrible boyfriend.” Jaime took the roach from Nadine, not caring who saw her.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want him to be your boyfriend.”

“If I wanted him to be my fucking boyfriend, he would be.”

“You’re so hostile tonight. You need to get laid or something.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re holding out until next time you see Oli.”

“No.” She scowled.

“It’s not like Dave wouldn’t have sex with you. He practically drools when he comes to the apartment.”

“Dave is whatever. It’s been like a year since we had sex. He’s whatever.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a booty call. And it doesn’t break your retarded tour rule since he’s in Pittsburgh.”

“I know there’s nothing wrong with it… But I like to stick with one at a time. It gets too confusing otherwise… And besides, Dave isn’t spectacular in the bedroom department.”

“No, what you mean is that you prefer Oli.”

“Well yeah, he’s a god when it comes to—nevermind, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, no, when it comes to what? You know how I love sordid details.”

“You’re a—“ Jaime heard the girls besides them snickering and saw them staring her way again. “Hi,” Jaime snidely waved at the girls, rolling her eyes. She was in no mood for this.

One girl, who had poorly done highlights and a Monroe piercing, seemed the most confident of the three. “We were just wondering something.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh,” the girl said. “We were wondering if it was true about you and Oli Sykes… that AP article… and then you were just talking about…”

“It’s not really any of your business,” Jaime said, no particular inflection in her voice. It was just plain true. These girls didn’t have any place in her personal life.

The girl’s mouth popped open indignantly and she turned around back to her clone friends. Under her breath, the girl muttered “Bitch.” But it wasn’t low enough; Jaime heard.

“What’d you say?” Jaime asked sharply.

“Uh oh,” Nadine murmured.

The girl shrugged and without looking back she said “I called you a bitch.”

Jaime straightened up and tossed the joint to the ground. “How about you face me and say that?”

The girl turned around slowly, sneering. “I. Said. You’re. A. Bitch.” She flicked her still lit cigarette at Jaime’s feet. The girl did not know what she was getting herself into clearly.

“Why? Because I won’t tell you whether I’m fucking someone you’ve met maybe once or twice? Alright, I’m a bitch. But at least I don’t go around acting like I’m so high and fucking mighty when really I’m just a mindless sheep.”

Nadine tried to take a hold of Jaime’s arm. “Let it go, babe…”

She yanked her arm from Nadine’s grasp. “No, fuck that. She doesn’t even know me—“

“I don’t need to know you to know that you’re just a slut. You were talking about it pretty plainly a minute ago. So it’s obvious that you’re a slut,” the girl said, “who goes around fucking guys in better bands just to get ahead.”

Jaime’s eyes widened. “Oh hell no.”

Nadine latched onto Jaime at the same time Jaime lunged forward towards the girl. “Jaime Renee Caldwell!” Jaime was flailing against Nadine’s grip.

The girl was smugly smirking. “You aren’t going to do shit to me.”

“How much you wanna bet on that?”

“A lot,” she stated plainly. “Glorified groupie trash like you… you’re all shit talk, no action.”

“Trash!?” Jaime yelled. “I swear to God if she wasn’t holding—“

“Trash,” she repeated. Then she made her vital mistake. She leaned back and launched a wad of spit right at Jaime’s face.

With this, Nadine let go of Jaime. It was fair game the minute something like that happened. Nadine hadn’t wanted Jaime doing something completely foolish but Nadine wouldn’t stop Jaime after spit flew.

Jaime flipped. It had been a long time, over a year, since she’d gotten into a fight. She had a lot of aggression to exercise. And this girl would be the receiver of it.

Jaime’s fist collided with the side of the girl’s head. She didn’t fuck around with hair pulling or any girlfight bullshit. She was serious about it. But the girl immediately began slapping around her arms, making contact with Jaime’s mouth. This only aggravated Jaime even more. She swung again, smashing her knuckles against her nose and cheek. The girl was reaching for Jaime’s hair. Jaime got in one more swing, a sharp jab at her eye, before they were pulled apart by their friends.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Nadine said, dragging Jaime away from the girl. Jaime’s hands were still clenched into fists and shots of adrenaline waved through her.

“Crazy bitch!” The girl yelled facing her while holding her face. She was bleeding heavily from the nose.

Jaime, whose anger had not been exercised quite enough, broke free of Nadine once more, furiously flying at the girl. Jaime threw her off balance, knocking both of them to the ground. Jaime’s knees were on the girl’s chest and she swung her arm back and made contact with the girl’s nose again. The now bloodied girl got in a few good smacks before they were pulled apart once more.

This time it was one of the burly venue security men dragging Jaime away. He had his arms around her middle and lifted her completely off the ground. Jaime was still flailing, her hands bruised and bloody from the girl’s nose. “You fucking cunt! Glorified groupie my goddamn ass!” Jaime was cooling down slightly though, having finally released her frustrations. That was all she really needed.

Jaime was surprised to see fifteen or twenty people now surrounding them. What was it about fights that made everyone so excited? She just knew that everyone was crowding around the scene of the fight. Jaime knew this wasn’t good but didn’t really care. It could have been worse. At least she hadn’t hit the girl with a baseball bat or something.

“Get back!” A security member yelled. “Get. Back!”

The security that was holding onto her middle was pushing her against the black brick wall. “Calm down, miss.”

“I’m calm!” Jaime said loudly, out of breath.

For the next few moments, things were chaotic. Most of the people that had still been in the venue post-show were now outside. Jaime’s bandmates had found their way to where security was detaining her. They were amused and slightly disappointed that they’d missed the fight. They loved watching Jaime fight; it had been quite some time since they’d seen her do it.

When Jaime heard the police sirens, she groaned and hung her head. It would be an interesting night, she was sure.

The security was still holding her against the wall when she instructed Nadine in a whisper “Take the weed out of my pocket.” Nadine quickly reached her hand around the security to pull a little bad out of Jaime’s jeans pocket.

“Get back!” The man yelled and Nadine stepped away.

Jaime knew what would happen when the cops showed up; so she continued to give instructions to her friends. “There are business cards in the glove box for a few lawyers… Maybe one in Ohio. Get them, just in case. And, um, my bank card is in my wallet in my bag if you need a couple hundred dollars for bail; that’s all I have really. If you need more, use your credit card and I’ll pay next month’s rent.”

Nadine nodded, having been around this block before.

--
AP.net Post
Reports are saying that Keep Your Composure vocalist Jaime Caldwell was arrested last night after a show at Cleveland’s downtown venue Peabody’s. Caldwell allegedly got into an altercation with a female fan. No statement from the KYC team has been issued.

There’s definitely some irony to be found in the lead singer of a band called Keep Your Composure losing her composure and beating someone up.
--

Jaime yawned. She hadn’t slept yet. It wasn’t exactly easy to sleep in a holding cell. It was terribly uncomfortable having six haggard crack heads staring at you while you were trying to get some shut eye. But fortunately for her, she’d been released on recognizance first thing in the morning. Nadine and the guys did not have to try and scramble up the rest of her bail money or go to a bondsman in the middle of the night; that would have made Jaime feel quite guilty. Nadine was walking with Jaime out of the police station; the guys were at a hotel. They had a show that night but they hadn’t wanted to abandon Jaime in an Ohio jail.

Jaime had just received her phone back from the police station. She’d never seen so many missed calls and texts. She flipped through the numbers and messages; everyone just wanted to know if it was all true. She didn’t really care too much to respond to any of them. She went to put her phone into her pocket but it started to ring. She intended to ignore it but when she looked at the name, she didn’t think twice about answering it.

“Hey Oliver,” she said with a sigh.

“Are yeh fuckin’ mental, girl?” He question.

“No.” Jaime hated being called crazy.

“Yeh really beat some bird’s face in?”

“It wasn’t quite that bad.”

“But yeh got arrested?"

“Uh huh… I just got released a minute ago.”

“Wha’re the charges?”

“Misdemeanor assault… It might get dropped since she spit on me first.”

“She spit on yeh?”

“Uh huh… I would have hit her probably anyway… She wouldn’t shut her mouth… fucking name-calling bitch.”

Oliver laughed. “Tha’s my girl.” Jaime was glad he found this amusing. “Yeh got her good then?”

“They took her away in an ambulance,” she wasn’t exactly proud but that was in fact slightly impressive. “Her nose was definitely broken.”

“She get yeh any?”

“She busted my lip open. It’s a little swollen.” Jaime shrugged and climbed into the van with Nadine.

“I ‘ope sum’un caught it on video.”

“Oh god, I hope not… I probably looked bat shit fucking crazy.”

“You did,” Nadine added.

“Probably ‘cause yeh are batshit,” Oliver teased.

“But I don’t want to LOOK it.” Jaime sighed again. “I’m fucking tired… goddamn jail cells.”

“They ‘ad yeh locked up?”

“All night.”

“Tha’s right bad, love.”

“Could be worse… I could still be in there.”

“Aye,” Oliver was surprised how relaxed she was about being arrested. She didn’t sound too unhappy, just tired. “Yeh fink yeh’ll get time?”

“Nah, I’m not going to try and go through a trial. If the charges stick, I’ll just plead out. At least that’s what everyone is telling me I should do.” She flipped down the overhead mirror and looked at herself. Her lip didn’t look too bad and besides the horrendous dark circles, she seemed fine. “I guess I should call my mom and tell her I’m fine… I’ll talk to you soon?”

“Right… Yeh still comin’ to the show next week?”

“Not even the Cleveland Police Department could keep me away.”

--

AP.net post
Jaime composes herself!
Just three days after her arrest in Cleveland for misdemeanor assault, Jaime Caldwell took to the internet in her defense. The Keep Your Composure vocalist posted a MySpace bulletin in regards to the incident.
“I know everyone’s talking about the other night and that’s to be expected, I guess. Everyone is wondering why and who and how. But really the only important thing about it is that I don’t like being disrespected; no one does. And if someone disrespects me, I’m not gonna just lie down and take it. That’s not who I am.
That’s really all there is to it.”

--

“Is tha’ my li’le criminal I see?” Oliver spotted the back of Jaime’s head after his gig. Even if she wasn’t standing with Nadine, he would have known it was her. He’d memorized her curves; he knew every turn of her body, every curl in her hair.

“I’m not a criminal,” she said, spinning around to face him. “I am an alleged criminal. Innocent until proven guilty.” Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes were a bit glassy. “But you know what that’s like.” She was grinning and she held her arms open. Oliver stepped right into her, letting her put her arms around his neck. She smelled like citrus and whiskey; maybe it was perfume but it could have just been a Whiskey Sour. They held onto each other tightly while she whispered “missed you” into his ear.

Upon letting go of her, Oli laughed. “How much ‘ave yeh ‘ad to drink? I gotta catch up.”

“People have been buying me drinks since I got here at eight; so I dunno… four or five. Maybe six.”

“Alright… come ta the bar wiff me?”

“Shouldn’t you be signing the tits of underage girls right now or something?” She said stagnantly.

“I’d rather ‘ave a drink or two wiff my best mate ‘oo I ‘aven’ seen in a month.”

Jaime shrugged and linked her arm through his. “A drink or two it is then.”

They weaved over to the bar, people parted to let them through as they went. Jaime was clutching his forearm almost protectively. The affection between them was noticeable to the girls itching to talk to Oli and it was quite intimidating. There were endless rumors about Jaime’s mental state, more than there had been prior to her arrest. The coward girls did not want to approach Oli while he was with Jaime, the lunatic. However, as Oli ordered a drink, one of the braver girls inched toward him confidently.

After receiving his drink, he turned to speak to Jaime but was stopped by “Great show!”

“Fanks,” he said. He’d wanted to spend as much time with Jaime as possible. He knew he should have just got on the bus and had her come to him, to avoid the fan distractions. Bus call was first thing in the morning, which didn’t leave him much time with Jaime in Pittsburgh.

“I missed you guys when you were here in the fall,” the brave one continued.

The way this girl acted was reminding Jaime of the self righteous bitch in Cleveland. What was it about BMTH fan girls that rubbed Jaime the wrong way? She had a tremendous distaste for all their hair products and tacky make up; not to mention how they acted so damn entitled to him.

Jaime couldn’t stand there while he talked to these girls; four more had followed the brave one over. Jaime touched Oliver’s hand and through a forced smile she said “I’m gonna go talk to Nicholls outside.” And she hurried away without even waiting for a response.

Oliver, who was generally sort of daft when it came to reading Jaime, knew something was up with her. That familiar urge to follow her hit him. But he remained locked in place; it would be unfair to these ladies to just disappear. Not that he cared much about them. But it was an excuse not to follow her; he needed to stop being so stuck on her.

The group of girls chatted and took pictures while he tried to ignore the nagging in his brain. One minute, Jaime had been fine. Everything was usual between them. And then next moment, she was jetting away from him at lightning speed. It wasn’t like Jaime to be physically avoidant of anything, even of him. She took everything as it came, head first without hesitation. The girls that always swarmed him never fazed her; she usually encouraged it. Had her opinion of this changed? A glimmer of excitement hit Oliver when he realized that maybe Jaime was jealous. With this in mind, Oliver excused himself from the girls. This was too good of a development to let it go. He needed to find Jaime.

Outside of the club, he saw Matt Nicholls. But Jaime wasn’t with him like she said she would be. “O’reight?” He said to his bandmate. “Where’s Jaime?”

Nicholls shrugged. “She walked tha’ way. Round the side.”

Oliver frowned and went in the direction Nicholls had pointed him. It wasn’t hard to find Jaime after that. She was sitting on a curb, flipping through her phone. “Oy!” Oli called. “Wha’ happened ta our drink er two?”

She looked up and wearily smiled at him. “You were busy.”

“Not rea’y.”

“Uh huh.” She looked back to her phone.

“Yeh ran off pretty fast after them lasses came over.”

“Yeah…” She didn’t even turn up to him as he got closer.

“Didn’ know yeh got jealous.”

At this she looked at him, rolled her eyes briefly in his direction and went back to staring at her phone.

“’S okay ef yeh are… ‘M a good catch.”

“Oliver, I’m the least jealous person on the planet.”

He didn’t understand why she felt like she had to deny it. “Ef yeh aren’ jealous, why are yeh actin’ like such a bitch?”

Her eyes flicked to him, narrow. She stood up, brushing her pants off as she did so. “Fuck you, Oliver,” she said plainly. “I’ll act like a bitch whenever I want to. Even around your fan girls.”

“Wha’ are yeh—“

“It’s bullshit, you know?” She said abruptly. “I shouldn’t have to explain my actions or temper what I say just because people are OBSESSED with you… I shouldn’t have to get into fist fights over it.” She faced away from him, pacing slightly.

“Wha’ are yeh talking about?”

“These fucking girls and their gossip… their petty shit.” She groaned. “Do you even know what they say about me? Not that it really bothers me when people talk about me… but why do they even care about who I’m fucking and why? It’s my business, not theirs.”

Oliver had no idea what was happening. He stood there, dumbfounded.

“Who are they to ask why I kick it with you?”

“’S a valid question,” Oliver mumbled.

She circled back to him. “Goddamnit, not you too. I thought if anyone would understand this…” She gritted her teeth, restraining herself a little. “Fuck it.”

“Maybe I’d understand ef yeh jus’ explained fer once.”

“I shouldn’t HAVE to explain myself, Oliver.” She stuffed her phone back into her pocket. “Things aren’t complicated until people make them that way.” She started walking past him.

“Where are yeh goin’?”

“Home.”

“Fuck, don’ be like tha’… I don’ even know wha’ I did.”

“You didn’t do anything.” She continued walking.

“Right,” he spoke to her back. “Jus’ part of the fuckin’ game, I expect. This mus’ be the part where yeh act right mental fer no reason.”

She stopped walking, spun around slowly, inhaled sharply and smacked him across the face. “Don’t ever call me crazy again. Got it?” she coldly asked before storming off.