Three Part Harmony (The Road to Rocktoberfest 2024)

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Mike

Meeting the Rock God. . .

“You’re never going to guess who I met today at the music store!” Fletch hollered as he burst through our apartment door, letting it slam against the kitchen wall in his wake.

The sudden intrusion had me jumping off the couch and assuming a defensive position with my fists up in front of my face in case I needed to kick someone’s ass. A second later, I realized it was only Fletch and he certainly wasn’t any threat to me. I quickly dropped my arms to my sides and considered Fletch’s question.

“Did you see someone famous at the store?” I asked my friend. I stepped closer to him where he leaned up against the refrigerator. His chest was still heaving with huge intakes of breath. “Are you all right?”

“I was hurrying,” he wheezed. “Had to tell you who I saw.”

“You haven’t told me shit—yet. Now, start spilling,” I spouted. “Who the fuck did you see?”

“Dagger—Black Ice—Drummond,” he said in short bursts of energy to emphasize each word.

“Seriously?” I asked. “You saw Dagger Drummond—from Black Ice?”

“Yesss, that’s what I just said,” Fletcher yelled, “but I didn’t just see him—I met him! We had an actual conversation!”

“Holyfuckingshit,” I said in one quick phrase as Fletcher’s words finally took root inside of me.

“You have no idea how big this is for us!” Fletcher exclaimed.

I closed the distance between us and hugged my friend tightly as we danced around our kitchen like fools. This was big. I could feel it all the way to my toes.

Every once in a while when I’m feeling reflective on my life, I enjoy reliving that particular memory because it really was a monumental turning point for us as musicians and for our band as a whole. Dagger did call Fletcher which set in motion a series of events that began with weekly practice sessions with the rock god himself, vocal training with an actual professional coach, some new high-end equipment, a stage setup, and even more came after we won a spot on the Rocktoberfest stage.

Rocktoberfest is a weekend-long event that takes place annually in the desert of Nevada. It’s basically a combination of the 1999 Woodstock festival meets the Burning Man, with almost non-stop music for four days. Although I heard they’re adding another day to the schedule for next year. The event attracts thousands and thousands of fans every year who make the pilgrimage to see the best of the best perform on stage, but not just headlining bands. This event is a mixture of new and seasoned performers. The one common theme that ties the music together is all the performing bands play rock—everything from metalhead screamers to traditional rock, and even some classic rock to round it out.

The event is invite only for the newer bands, so unless you’re a headlining act that’s been in the business for years, there is an audition process involved with audio files submitted to a committee of judges for voting before a newer band receives an invite. The tried and true performers, like Black Ice and Ivory Tower’s caliber, get the red carpet treatment. Their credentials alone get them onto the stage—if they want a slot, or if their schedules allow them to make a trip to the desert for the show, they are always welcome and room would be added to the schedule to accommodate the band.

It was a panel of judges who made the final decision for us to be part of the lineup our first time at the event. Being newcomers, we performed on Friday night with the other ‘up and coming’ bands. Saturdays are reserved for the headliners, and Sunday is a mish-mash of bands mingling with members from other bands to riff in small groups or on the main stage platform for a whole audience to enjoy. Now, it’s become so huge they not only added Thursday shows but multiple smaller stages for the up and coming bands to prove their worth on.

Being accepted to perform the first time on the Rocktoberfest stage was the Holy Grail for a new band like ours and not one of us took for granted we’d been invited. I tell you, driving to that event—in a tour bus Dagger bought for us—was much more than a dream come true. It was everything . No one had ever believed in us the way Dagger did. I’m not even sure we believed in us as much he did, which was very telling to the kind of man he was off the stage.

We made the drive from LA in this sleek, spectacular motherfucking bus that literally turned heads every time we pulled off the highway to gas up. I’ll never forget it because it was the first time we got the tiniest taste of being rockstars. Many hours of traveling later we finally passed through the chain-link gates of the desert venue location with Dagger’s bus right behind ours. Acres and acres of desert nothingness greeted us—until we finally saw the stage pavilion looming in the distance like an ancient Aztec temple that worshiped the sun.

Dozens of white vendor tents framed the area around the main stage on all sides and hundreds and hundreds of cars and campers were lined up for as far as our eyes could see. The closer we got to the main stage the more foot traffic we saw. Some cheered as we drove by and a few slapped the side of our bus as we passed. Our hearts hammered wildly in our chests. I remember looking behind us at the dirt road. The plume of dust our bus kicked up made us look like a rocket launching into space and that’s exactly how it felt in that moment. We were being fired from a cannon—full throttle into the stratosphere from that one performance. I don’t think any of us understood the magnitude of what was happening. We were naive to think we’d go home after that event and slip into our old lives. Nope. The genies were out of their bottle—for good. That saying ‘if we only knew then what we know now’ was a hundred percent true.

And now we were returning to Rocktoberfest as seasoned performers. At least that’s how we felt. We were no longer newbies still wet behind the ears and with stars in our eyes coming into this event. We weren’t exactly old timers stilted by decades in the business, either. We had enough experience under our belts to be dangerous, mainly to ourselves, but as long as none of us got arrested, no one gave a shit. But the first year we performed—when everything was so fucking shiny and new—the vivid memories of the event I have still get my heart pumping something fierce.

Like the saying goes, everyone always remembers their first.

First trip to Rocktoberfest . . .

Our bus slowly made its way deeper onto the event grounds and into a gathering sea of people walking toward the stage area. There were so many people they covered up the road we were trying to travel. How our driver navigated the bus through this without hitting anyone was a miracle. Finally, the bus turned into a separate parking lot for tour buses and the four of us stared out the side windows in wonder as a guy waving handheld, florescent wands helped the driver park our huge rig in a systematic fashion of rows. Each row was separated by wide aisles. It was like watching a plane pull up to an airport terminal gate, and from some angles the bus seemed as big as a jet.

“Listen up!” Dagger shouted over our excited cheers as he climbed aboard the bus after our parking process was completed. “Before you’re let loose like a pack of horny teenagers left at summer camp, I want to lay down a couple of ground rules for you to follow while you’re here. The second you leave this bus, everything you say and do is public record. Your actions—good or bad—will have consequences and it will be dissected a hundred different ways on every media outlet known in this business. I shouldn’t have to tell you mooning a group of girls, snorting lines off sheet music, or getting a blowjob while her friend videotapes the spectacle may seem funny in the moment but that shit lives forever on the internet. You are here to represent your band and your new brand. From here on out every move you make and stupid thing you say is a reflection on your band. Do NOT do anything to jeopardize the hard work you’ve put in over the last several weeks by overindulging while you’re here. You can party but never partake to a point it affects your ability to make good choices or diminish your skills on this stage. You’re here to do a job first and have fun second. And lastly, do not leave the fenced-in area or go anywhere without personal security shadowing you. Questions?”

“I can’t believe this is real!” I shouted.

“Oh, it’s real, motherfucker!” Potts cheered.

Dagger shook his head and smiled. “Love your spirit, guys,” he said. “Make sure you save some of it for your performance.”

Once we were cleared to leave the bus, we started exploring with a couple of burly bodyguards playing babysitters. It was hard to believe we were in the desert with dozens of world-famous musicians surrounding us, all mingled together. We weren’t there as vendors working a booth or a rabid fan excited to see a weekend of music from their favorite rock bands. We were INVITED to be here and share this enormous stage for the performance of a lifetime, and shit, if the magnitude of that didn’t make our knees knock together.

Our musician lanyards dangled around our necks like Olympic gold medals and our smiles were so wide it made our cheeks ache from the effort. We were one of a few shiny new things at this year’s event. We were touted as being Dagger’s protege pet project—or his lap dogs, as I heard someone yell at us as we walked by. I did my best to shrug that shit off because I knew there were a fair amount of people who thought Dagger did the work of getting us to this event. He swore up and down he had nothing to do with the judges’ decision to invite us and I believed him. Truth was, we worked our asses off to prove ourselves, but hopefully our performance would shut up the naysayers .

Dagger groomed us for weeks and weeks prior to this event. He pushed us back to the beginning to relearn the very basic skills and then taught us the art of stage presence. He helped us find our own personal style with new clothes, even filled a rehearsal studio with new equipment for us to use. His theory was in order to improve as a band we needed high-end instruments and sound equipment. He also hired a set designer to create a professional stage for us that even had pyrotechnics and a fierce light show. Fuck, I loved the explosions! We worked hard and honed our craft under his tutelage and we learned that being in a successful band required a lot more than talent to succeed.

Who knew?

If nothing else, we wanted to make Dagger proud he’d invested his time and money into us. I had no idea how we’d ever pay him back for his many acts of kindness, his patience, and sharing his knowledge of music and the industry as a whole, but he said he wanted nothing in return. His only explanation for taking us under his wing was to give another talented band a leg-up in the business, like he wished someone had done for them when they were the new act blowing into LA in search of fame. I promised him one day we’d pay it forward and do the same for a future band trying to make their way and he liked that idea.

I took a moment as we strutted around the vast, dusty layout of the Rocktoberfest backstage area to really be in the moment with my band brothers. We were all spiffed out in new clothing, boots, with sort of groomed hair, and vintage t-shirts from older bands we aspired to be. Underneath our somewhat polished veneers we were still basically the same guys but with chests puffed out in pride. It was a moment in time I knew we’d remember for decades to come.

In our minds we were invincible and on our way to unfathomable heights in the music business. Realistically, we knew we had a long road ahead of us before we achieved even a marginal amount of what could be described as success. In other words, we had a lot of growing up to do—both musically and personally.

Out of everyone in the band, Fletch was the one who had grown the most. His guitar skills had really come to life from Dagger’s tutelage. He’d put in long hours practicing until his fingers bled but it paid off. On a personal note, Fletcher grew as a man. He followed his attraction for Dallas, one of our roadies at the time, and was now happily in a committed relationship. Overall, our band brothers took the news pretty well. The change in Fletch was completely for the better. I’d never seen him more content and secure with who he was and who he loved. I found myself envious of that.

As settled as Fletcher had become, I was still fucking around trying to find the perfect combination of traits that would make up my ideal person. I liked women and men, so I wasn’t sure what my perfect person would look like. They could have boobs or balls, I didn’t really care which. It came down to their personality and if I felt a certain kind of connection with them. Of course, if they were sexy as fuck it was definitely a bonus.

As we walked around the concert grounds, I saw dozens of gorgeous people that earned a second glance from me but not many stood out. There were two conversations I had that held my attention. The first was with Oliver Berg from Jupiter Rising and the second was with Sebastian Remmi from Snake Charmers. I made a mental note to talk to them again but it never happened that weekend. There was always the next time, if we came back to Rocktoberfest—providing we were invited a second time.

We could only hope.