Louder Than Thunder

They arrived at the Whisky via taxi and entered, heading straight for the bar – knowing they’d be around for a while – and then upstairs. They took a seat and began looking around for someone who seemed managerial. The band playing that night was a faster band, pure rock ‘n’ roll. Mary swished her foot back and forth nervously, eying those sitting directly around them. Michelle looked over the balcony at the band, before taking a glance over the room.
“What about her?” Darlene asked, pointing discreetly at a girl across the room.
“She looks a couple years older. Think she’s ever worked managing a band?” Michelle asked.
“Doubt it,” Mary said, sipping her cocktail.
“Why’s that?”
“Outfit.”
“Alright, if there was ever anyone I’d trust to read people by their outfit, it’d be you. See anyone who might work?”
“No, not really. Look, I don’t know if you can just go out and look for a manager.”
“Well, don’t lose hope yet, we just got here,” Darlene said.
“Don’t worry, we’re still looking,” Michelle said, looking around again.
They spent an hour sipping their drinks and watching those leaving and entering. The club grew busier and busier every few minutes, creating more options for the girls; however, it became harder to separate the customers.
“We’re not really finding anyone worth a mention,” Michelle pointed out.
She sighed, boredly, taking the last sip of her drink.
“Should we come back tomorrow, maybe? I don’t feel like sticking around for the big party tonight. Let’s go,” Darlene said.
“Yeah, fine,” Mary said.
As they all stood up, a woman about their age bumped into Michelle, shoulder to shoulder. Michelle grunted in surprise and the girl gasped.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I was just- Hey, aren’t you the Rag Dolls?” she asked.
Mary, Michelle and Darlene looked between each other with small smiles. The girl had a short five-point cut of strawberry blonde hair and brown eyes. She was wearing a dogtooth patterned dress with a neck scarf around the collar, tied lovingly.
“Yeah, we are. How’d you know?” Darlene said.
“I saw you play a couple weeks back, and I read about you in a magazine today. They really got you all wrong in that article.”
“Don’t we know it,” Mary said.
“Here, sit with us,” Darlene suggested.
“Thanks. Whatever the magazines say, I think you’re great! I can’t wait until your album comes out.”
“What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t, but it’s Kimberly Johnson. You can call me Kim, though.”
“Say, Kim, what do you do for a living?” Michelle asked.
“Actually, I manage a band. They’re not doing very well though. They think I’m the problem and they’re gonna drop me soon. I don’t mind, I don’t really like working with them. I’ll tell you the real reason why they aren’t successful: they write their own songs, but they don’t play their instruments very well. They’re in it for the money. I’m glad to be looking for a new group soon.”
The girls turned to each other again and smiled knowing smiles. They turned back to her. She seemed uncomfortable now.
“Yes?”
“Kim, do you mind if we chat in private for a moment?” Mary asked.
“No, I suppose not.”
“Great. Wait right here for a moment.”
The girls walked over to one corner and Kim sat down at their table to ensure no one else took it.
“I like her,” Darlene admitted proudly.
“Same. There’s a quality about her. She dresses very English for an American,” Michelle said.
“I agree.”
“I agree.”
“It is law.”
With that, they walked back over to her.
“Kim, we’re in need of a manager right now,” Mary admitted.
“So. . .wait, what are you saying?”
“Kim, if you need a job, we’d love for you to become our manager.”
“Wow. You want me to manage you?”
“Do you want to manage us?” Darlene asked.
“Yeah, I’d love to! I’ve just gotta wait until I get off with this band, but once I am I’d love to.”
“That’s great!”
They spent the rest of the evening explaining to Kim about why they want a new one and what they’re looking for in her and telling her what general direction they want to head in with their music. Kim offered many great ideas to them, and was already finding ways in which she could help them.
“So, we have one more show tonight and then tomorrow we have to fly back to Chicago to record. Could you meet us there?” Mary asked.
“Yeah. I could probably be there within two or three days. How’s the producer and who is he?” Kim asked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms, listening intently.
“Peter Young. He’s alright. When Paul was our manager, he explained to him what we want but we need to make sure it’s very clear with him. So, if you were to explain to him what we want, out of curiosity, what would you say? I just want to make sure you’ve got this,” Michelle said.
“Fair enough. If I had to tell Mister Peter Young what you girls want for this album, I would say. . .you want it to be a perfect premier album. You want it to show off what you can do, but not give too much away so that you can still surprise. I’m sure you girls would want to experiment later on, try different sounds and use different types of drums and guitars. I’ll make sure he’s open to that. You want it to be a mod record I assume?”
“Yeah, a little bit. You know, like London R&B. Beat and blues, rock ‘n’ roll, you know, it’s what we do,” Darlene said in her best imitation of a London accent.
The rest of them chuckled. Michelle took a sip of her second drink.
“She’s right though. That’s what we want. We want it to be us, our sound - the London sound. The sound we had when we played in the clubs,” she added.
“Yeah. We don’t want it to be too polished, I think is what we mean,” Mary explained.
“Alright, I get it. I think your songs will work well in that way. Anyways, I should be leaving. I’ve got a lot of work to do with the band tomorrow. We’ve gotta sort things out. I’ll see you girls in Chicago then.”
“Sounds good. We should be leaving too, we’ll walk you out.”
“Alright.”
They walked downstairs and headed out into the cool night air. Kim began walking one way and Mary, Michelle and Darlene went the opposite way. They felt relieved, knowing they wouldn’t be manager-less for long.
The next evening, they played their last LA show. The tour took a two week break from then on. The boys were staying in LA while the girls flew back to Chicago and met Peter Young at the studio to find out when they’d be recording, since Paul had never left them their schedule. They were given their times and Peter allowed them to leave their instruments in the studio until they started recording.
They went out to eat and then returned an hour later, ready to start working on their album. They walked into the control room and greeted Peter.
“Hey, Peter,” Darlene said.
“Hey, girls,” he said as he set up the tape. “So, care to tell me what happened to the man who convinced me to let you record in the first place?”
“We fired ‘im,” Mary informed him.
“And what was his name again?”
“Paul.”
“And why is that?”
“His mother named him, I guess. Maybe after his father or grand-father.”
“No, I mean why did you fire him?”
“Oh.”
“He wasn’t taking us in the right direction. We’re getting someone new,” Darlene explained.
“Well, where is he?”
“She is on her way.”
“Alright, I see. You want to surround me with feminine energy,” Peter said, smiling a crooked smile up at them.
“That may be so, but we’ll be the toughest group of females you’ve probably ever seen in here,” Mary said with a laugh.
“You’ll be the only group of females I’ve ever seen in here.”
“Anyways, she said she’d call tonight to tell us when she’s coming, but she should be leaving tomorrow or the day after,” Michelle explained.
“Alright. Let’s start then. We have the tracks from the singles, you can pick what you’d like to work on next.”
They recorded three songs throughout the day, take after take after take. When they arrived back at the hotel, the front desk informed them that they had a call waiting.
“A woman named Kimberly Johnson called. She asked for you to call her back.”
“Great, I’ll call her number upstairs. Thank you,” Mary told her.
The girls skipped up the stairs excitedly. Mary called the number left for them and Kim picked up within the first ring.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Kimberly? It’s Mary.”
“Hey, Mary! How did recording go today?”
“Pretty good. We’ll debrief you when you get down here.”
“Alright. What time are you recording at tomorrow?”
“Our session starts at two.”
“Perfect, I should be there around then, if not slightly after - within the half-hour anyway.”
“Alright, perfect. Once you get here and you get all the financial documents, we’ll pay you back with the tour money since it’s business related.”
“Alright. See you tomorrow.”
“See you, Kim.”
“Bye.”
With that, Mary hung up. She smiled at Michelle and Darlene.
“We’ve got our new manager coming in. She’ll meet us at the studio tomorrow.”
“Alright. Sounds good.”
The next day, they arrived at the studio ten minutes early and stopped around the entrance for a smoke.
“So, what should we record?” Darlene asked, taking a short drag from her cigarette.
“I was thinking we’d start with something easy. I’m really tired and maybe it’ll wake me up,” Michelle suggested, rubbing her forehead.
“Maybe we could start with-”
Someone walked by quickly, shoving Mary in the shoulder mid-sentence. She was turned into the door and held her other hand to her shoulder with a grunt.
“Sorry! I’m supposed to be in there in five minutes!” the girl with a short five-point cut screamed in apology.
“Kim!” Darlene yelled.
She took another step towards the door and stopped, backing up a couple steps. She looked the three girls square in the eye and sighed. Her arms were full of paperwork.
“I’m so glad I’m not late,” she moaned.
“Nice to see you, Kim!” Darlene said.
“Nice to see you too, Darlene.”
“Here, I’ll help you with those papers,” Michelle said, taking a few of the papers slipping out of the pile.
“Thanks.”
“Alright, should we get in there and work out this paper?” Mary asked, taking a few sheets as well.
“I’ll do the paperwork, you just work on recording.”
“Alright. You’ll dig Peter, by the way.”
“Your producer?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s so great about him?”
“He’s producing us.”
“Good point.”