Midnight Rhythm (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

12. Next Stop is Utah

twelve

Next Stop is Utah

W e had two more shows before Rocktoberfest. That was always a killer festival, and I was stoked for it this year. Masterson Management took over running it and extended it to four days, and we were going to stay there all. Four. Days. I felt like a kid with the promise of spending all day in the candy store.

It would be like fucking camping. We had the buses, but Coleman said he was thinking of getting a tent to pop up for us next to or behind the bus instead of cramming into my small bunk. Haha, cramming into a small tent with a blow-up mattress instead. Either way was going to be a riot.

But first, we had to get through Salt Lake City and Reno. We flew into Salt Lake City and the buses were there to meet us right on time, so we all piled our jet-lagged asses aboard. We were also tired from the fun we had on our off days. Well, the rest of the mother fuckers were. I didn’t do much, which was actually pure bliss for once in my life.

The buses pulled up to the back gates at the Utah First Credit Union Amphitheatre. It was one of the smaller venues on this tour but still held twenty-five thousand, so nothing to sneeze at. We were still able to bring in our giant screens, which would be super great for the people out on the lawn behind the seating. We parked, and our roadies got busy setting up the stage. Kai and Marci went to make sure things were getting set up right in the merch stations. The rest of us headed into the backstage area, which in this venue was a building attached directly to the back of the stage. It was actually set up nicely when we walked around to check it out. We could slip in and out of the VIP area, which was to the side of the stage, where we’d have our contest winners and a few of the DJs from the local rock station hanging out. And we were planning on having the after-party there as well.

“Soundcheck in twenty guys,” Marci called as she buzzed down the hall.

“I’m heading there now.” I grabbed Coleman’s hand and pulled him toward the stage. “If they’re not finished, I’ll help out.” I’d been told that wasn’t my job, but I knew what I was doing and loved working with the equipment. The only thing I didn’t mess with was the mics. Those needed to be precise. I worked with our techs, but they placed everything.

When we got to the stage, they were finishing up and pretty much ready for soundcheck. Bramble punk had their equipment to the side, ready to be loaded. I gave their drummer, Randy, a fist bump. “Fuck yeah! You guys fucking killed it the last show. Good to see you, man.”

“Yeah. Sucks we aren’t flying on your fancy plane, but we got here all the same.” He turned and did a quick rim shot on his drums, which were already set up in front of mine.

“Haha, funny, man.” I pointed at him with my index finger for a change.

“Seriously, though, Ziggy. It’s been killer being on tour with you and the Hunt. I think we’re starting to gel as a band.” It was no secret that we’d built the band around Kay after Miami befriended the guy. The others had been studio musicians or working gigs with other bands. People who knew people. And after a few days of phone work and networking, Jinx and Harrison had pulled a decent group of guys together. They practiced and we came up with a few original songs and a couple of covers for them to perform at the shows. And every time they played, they got a little better. “In fact, Joe and Kay have started writing a few more songs. Not for this go-round, but maybe for recording. Who knows.” Kay was the front man and played guitar, but Joe was the lead guitarist in the band. They also had Matty on another rhythm guitar to fill out their sound, along with Dave on bass.

“Yeah, it seems to be working for you. Maybe we can arrange studio time at ours down in Miami.”

“That would kick ass.” I had no clue where they all lived. Kay was from California, but the rest were from other places. But I’d learned long ago if you were serious as a musician, you went where you needed to go. End of story.

The rest of the Hunt showed up after that, and we worked with our techs to dial in the sound. When we were ready, I counted us into The One About Fighting to make sure we were golden.

“Fuck me.” Jinx flicked his guitar pick when we finished the song. “I think that was the easiest soundcheck we’ve ever fucking had.”

Wolf thumped out a cadence on the bass. “No lie.”

Marci clapped her hands three times. “Brilliant. You’re fan-fucking-tastic. Now get off the stage so Bramble Punk can run through theirs.” She shooed us backstage. She was a hard ass, but she was fucking good at her job. Corralling a bunch of assholes like us could not be easy, but she made it look like it.

My back was starting to twinge. I promised Coleman I’d tell him when I had issues, but this sucked ass. I was going to end up getting fitted for a fucking brace or something. I knew other drummers who wore them, and it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but there’d be an adjustment period, and I would prefer to have that happen after the tour.

Coleman was getting to know me entirely too well. He put an arm around my shoulders and led me into a private room backstage. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I need something for my back. It’s twinging and I feel the shit coming on.”

“That’s not good.”

“No. I got shit back on the bus, but we aren’t supposed to go back until after the show.”

“I’ll go. Where is it and what do you want?”

“Just bring my duffle. I knew I should have brought it with me.”

He kissed the top of my head. “I’ll get it. I don’t recommend this as a long-term plan, though. You know that, right?”

“I do. Maybe I can see the doc after Rocktoberfest?” I honestly didn’t know when else I could do it. We had a two-week break after the festival, and that would have to work. In the meantime, I’d keep a low-level buzz going when I needed to play. It didn’t sound like a great answer to me, either. And maybe more than low-level was called for.

I maybe got carried away. I’d scored a cornucopia in Boston, so I started with a tramadol. In the past, I’d taken that, and it did a good job at pain relief without a lot of side effects. But I wasn’t sure it was strong enough. I also had a couple edibles, which were supposed to be nothing as far as potency goes, but I think that was my mistake. I ate them both and smoked a joint afterward. I was fucking tripping during the meet and greet. And I didn’t remember much of it later. I felt pretty good. Maybe too good.

When Bramble Punk went on stage, I wanted to see them play. After chatting up Randy earlier, I thought I’d give them a listen, so I went to the side stage. Harrison’s little brother was there watching as well, and I gave him a hug. And promptly lost my fucking marbles.

I walked onto the stage during their cover of Starset’s Monster. It was a complicated song, musically, and Bramble Punk did it with a harder, more punkish, scaled-down version. It sounded fantastic, especially the drums. “Fuck yeah. This rocks!” I yelled. And I was too close to Kay’s mic. I could tell the band was surprised, but they carried on like they weren’t.

Kay screamed a couple lines, “I am the darkness. I’m a monster…”

And I started singing the chorus with them. “You’re the pulse in my veins…”

But things went fuzzy at that point. It was like a heat wave engulfed me. I ripped off my shirt and tossed it into the audience. Of course, they went nuts, and I thought it would be a great time to go crowd-surfing.

What the fuck, right? But it was not a venue to do that easily. There was sound equipment, lighting, and video in front of the stage and behind that, security. The actual people were significantly farther away. But thankfully, I realized that before I jumped and sat on the front of the stage, waving my arms back and forth over my head instead. The crowd copied me. I think. It was a little blurry. And dizzy. So I laid back and stretched out a bit. I could feel the vibrations of the music through my bones, especially the drums. Pounding and zipping.

The universe was aligning and separating.

I heard a sweet voice in my ear, calling me back to Earth. “Come on, baby. I’ve got you.” It was my Coleman. I loved my Coleman. I let him wrap me up in his arms and lead me off. I didn’t know or care where we were going. It didn’t matter as long as Coleman had his strong arms around me.