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October 1976

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October 1976

I felt a giant weight on top of me as I came to the realization that I was awake. I slowly opened my eyes to see that I was surrounded by the band. "Get out of my room." I covered my face.

"Baby the reviews are in," Harry said from on top of me. I rolled over and felt my head throbbing, last night was way too wild. I took it too far, again.

Reviews? What fucking reviews? Wait- oh damn I knew there was a reason for me drinking so much last night.

Everything became crazy after our song came out on the radio. It exploded in a way, every station had begun playing it over and over and people began buying our album. Record shops sold out within days and we had become the talk of the new wave of music coming in or out of New York.

Last night we performed at a pretty big night club in the city, fans lining up to see us and according to our manager, there was a man coming to see us specifically to write a review for a magazine.

I sat up taking the magazine from Harry and cleared my throat as I read out the words telling us if we were as bad as I thought. "...the Lips, most likely taking the name because of the lead singer 'blondie's' pretty pout, were a sight to see. This band of six included two guitarists, a bass player, drummer, and keyboard player all really know how to play, but it was the blonde on stage dancing and singing her heart out that really made the band stand out. There was never a dull moment and I truly never wanted the set to end."

"Anything else?" the guys asked.

I flipped the page and shook my head. "Good review, he recommends- oh boy." I stopped. "...although the group should change their style to the music of now instead of the 'new wave' to a more danceable disco."

"Fuck disco its trash," Harry cursed. I gulped a bit, I actually was enjoying the music but the guys were so against it.

I set the magazine down and stood to follow the guys into the next room of mine and Harry's place. A few months ago we all began making some money and decided to move separately for the most part. Josh and Mitch lived together while the other two lived in studios. Harry and I rented an apartment in Manhattan so it was normal for the guys to crash after a performance here.

"Guys what we have is a decent fucking review. Besides the shitty career advice, can we please move on?"

They all agreed, leaving a few minutes later. This week we were back in the studio and had rehearsals for a few gigs in LA again, we got the chance to perform with a few bands from the CBGB. It was a huge deal so this review was important. These shows were like a small tour up the west coast and we didn't want to be the worst band on the list.

Harry stood drinking a cup of coffee and watched as I spaced out for a minute. "What are you thinking?" I shrugged before telling him I was just hungover. "Can we talk about that prick last night?"

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