#three nights in LA seemed like a fitting finale for the U.S. leg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goldstarnation · 4 years

Text

JANUARY 2020 GOLD STAR MEDIA SCHEDULES & REVIEW

Members may earn 3 points each (up to 6 points) for writing, by the end of February 7 KST:

A solo para of 400+ words based on their monthly schedule (does not count toward your monthly total).

A thread of six posts (three per participant, including the starter) based on their monthly schedule.

Threads do not have to take place directly during an important date listed on the schedule, but must be related to what the muse is mentioned to be doing in the paragraph explaining their schedule/the company’s schedule for the month and/or their thoughts on the mentioned activities or lack thereof.

These schedules may be updated throughout the month if new information needs to be added.

Reminder: December schedule posts are due by the end of January 7 KST.

Overall Company

Now that they’ve proven themselves to be the company to beat, Gold Star is more interested in proving the strength of their artists to investors than giving fans the endless stream of content they’d prefer, if the beginning of the year meeting is anything to go by. Gold Star is the dominant idol company in the west, and that’s another title they’re interested in keeping. Compared to past years, the plans shared at this year’s meeting seem much more about image than ever before and many artists under them are only looking at one comeback this year. If nothing else, everyone will have the Seollal break to mull over the company’s evolution.

Important dates:

January 13: Meeting for company artists and those who work directly with them (managers, PR, etc.) headed by CEO Bang Sunyoung. Gold Star Media’s mission statements and overall plans for 2020 will be delivered.

January 24-26: Seollal break (no activities save for specific voluntary individual schedules).

Various dates (up to individual muse): As per usual January Gold Star custom, all group members and soloists will be required to individually schedule beginning of the year medical check-up appointments on Gold Star’s dollar if they have not had one in the past six months. This will be slightly media-played as it is every year by the company as the company having a clean bill of health regardless of the results, although any medical concerns will be privately addressed.

Gold Star Soloist 1

A final track list for her comeback this year is coming into place with discussions between her and the appropriate departments, although Gold Star gets the final word on it as always. As such, she’ll be in the studio for the month to record final vocals for the narrowing track list. Gold Star has it officially nailed down that she’ll be releasing a single without a music video off the album in March before coming back with the album itself with another single, this time with a music video, in May, after which, she’ll be preparing to tour in the second half of the year.

Important dates:

N/A

Gold Star Soloist 2

She will begin her national tour next month, so January brings with it a lot of late night concert rehearsals at the Gold Star building. In addition to her hits and fan favorite songs, she’ll be performing a few covers at the request of Gold Star’s concert team that she’ll need to be practicing too: an encore dance medley of Bad Guy X Senorita X 2002, a vocal cover of Speechless, and a vocal cover of Into The Unknown. Stage outfit fittings will happen mid-month.

Important dates:

January 18: Tour stage outfit fittings (examples: 1, 2, 3)

Gold Star Soloist 3

The 23rd of this month is his seven year debut anniversary, and as such he’ll be doing a small and simple fanmeeting for his fans before he gets Seollal off. He has a lot of freedom for the fan sign to make the anniversary as genuine as possible, so he’ll get to choose which of his songs he’d like to perform (as long as he includes his most recent singles). Gold Star will supply gifts for all of his fans attend from brands endorsed by other Gold Star artists.

Important dates:

January 23: Seventh anniversary fan meeting at Blue Square Market Hall.

Silhouette

Silhouette will be touring Japan next month. It’s not a tour with very extravagant staging, so they’ll mostly only be rehearsing their top hits, their Japanese songs, and their most recent songs this month to be in top performance shape for the tour. On the 11th, they’ll need to go in to fittings for their stage outfits to make sure all of the stylists’ choices are easy to dance in and flattering to each member.

Important dates:

January 11: Tour stage outfit fittings (examples: 1, 2, 3)

Aria

Aria will be promoting themselves a little past the end of promotions this time around since the holiday season took away so many promotional opportunities for them. They’ll be filming an appearance on the newly-returned Two Two Project: Sugar Man covering A.R.T.’s “Sad Face” to air on the final day of the month. They’ll be rehearsing for the performance for the week and a half leading up to it to give a satisfactory performance. Ticketing will also open for their fanmeeting in March this month.

Important dates:

January 9: End of music show promotions.

January 17: Two Yoo Project: Sugar Man filming (to be aired: January 31)

Origin

Awards season continues, but Gold Star is more focused on the release of a series of three remixes of the b-side “Make It Right” off of their most recent album. It’s mostly to test out public reception and ways to improve radio and streaming performance for future comebacks and none of the remixes require any new vocals from the members. For the new year, they’re beginning a new campaign with the city of Seoul to boost tourism and they’ll be filming separate ads for the campaign. They each only have to film a small scripted intro and outro on the CF set in addition to brief group shots (Leader/main rapper | vocal 1 | lead rapper | main dancer/lead rapper | lead vocal/lead dancer | vocal 2 | maknae/main vocal/lead dancer).

Important dates:

January 5: Performance at Golden Disc Awards Day Two at Gocheok Sky Dome in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: CHARM, Alien, and Impulse).

January 10: Release of “Make It Right (Remix) ft. Lauv”.

January 24: Release of “Make It Right (Remix) ft. Lauv [EDM Remix]”.

January 27: Seoul Tourism CF filming (see above).

January 31: Release of “Make It Right (Remix) ft. Lauv [Acoustic Remix]”.

Impulse

For the month of their sixth anniversary, Impulse members get something of a break. They have the Golden Disc Awards to attend on the 5th and they’ve been chosen as the new brand ambassadors for The Face Shop, meaning they’ll need to shoot their first CF modeling for the brand. They also all do individual photo shoots with one specific product for the brand: The leader/main vocal/lead dancer for essence, the main rapper for mascara, the lead rapper for sunscreen, the lead vocal/lead dancer for primer, the main vocal for a face mask, the lead rapper/lead dancer for lip liner, and the maknae/main dancer/vocal for their signature serum. After that, they’re granted an extended Seollal vacation from the 20th to the 30th to relax before they go back on tour next month.

Important dates:

January 5: Performance at Golden Disc Awards Day Two at Gocheok Sky Dome in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: CHARM, Alien, and Origin).

January 15: The Face Shop CF filming.

January 19: The Face Shop ad photo shoot (see above).

Fuse

Gold Star isn’t planning to wrap up their Fuse Festival trilogy until late summer and after they hold a solo concert in the spring, so there isn’t too much on their schedule this month. Their Hotel del Luna OST releases very early in the month, but it isn’t the major hit some of the other songs on the soundtrack are. Fuse will focus on modeling this month, including a photo shoot for High Cut and CF filming for their new 2020 job as GMarket brand ambassadors.

Important dates:

January 4: Release of Hotel del Luna OST “See The Stars”.

January 9: Photo shoot for Issue 257 (first half of February) of High Cut magazine.

January 20: GMarket CFs filming.

January 30: Performance at Seoul Music Awards at Gocheok Sky Dome in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: BEE, WISH, Alien, Lucid).

Element

From January 16 to January 22 and from January 26 to January 30, the members of Element will be in the U.S. for their North America tour. They’ll be performing three of the four cover stages they did for their North America tour: “If I Can’t Have You”, “Thank U Next”, and “Taki Taki”. While in Los Angeles, they’ll film videos with both Access Hollywood (discussing tour stories of their choice) and Young Hollywood (doing a “mystery box challenge”). There will not be a hired translator present for either video, though management may help to clarify off-camera if ever necessary. By the time they return, Gold Star will have picked their next title track from the options under consideration and confirm them for a May comeback with another digital single.

Important dates:

January 16: Access Hollywood interview filming.

January 17: Young Hollywood Mystery Box Challenge filming.

January 17: 4lement in North America Tour concert at La Mirada Theatre in Los Angeles, CA, USA

January 19: 4lement in North America Tour concert at Theatre of Living Arts in Philadephia, PA, USA.

January 22: 4lement in North America Tour concert at Cullen Performance Hall in Houston, TX, USA.

January 27: 4lement in North America Tour concert at Patio Theater in Chicago, IL, USA.

January 29: 4lement in North America Tour concert at Buckhead Theatre Atlanta, GA, USA.

Femme Fatale

Following their performance at the Gaon Chart Music Awards, they’re off on the Asia leg of their first world tour. This month they’ll be in Thailand and Indonesia. For the duration of the tour, they’ll be filming a mini-reality series of their rehearsals and travels called Femme Fatale Diaries. They’ll shoot two episodes during their Bangkok stops this month. The series will mostly consist of self-cams by the members backstage, at their hotel, and exploring the city to help fans feel in touch with the members even while they’re busy touring. During the time they’re in Seoul, they’ll be recording the four new tracks on their next mini-album. Though the comeback has not been publically confirmed, hype is already being built for one after their reveal as part of this year’s Coachella lineup in April.

Important dates:

January 8: Performance at Gaon Chart Music Awards at Jamsil Arena in Seoul, South Korea (also attending: BEE, Alien, and Lucid).

January 10: Femme Fatale In Your Area World Tour concert at IMPACT Arena in Bangkok, Thailand.

January 11: Femme Fatale In Your Area World Tour concert at IMPACT Arena in Bangkok, Thailand.

January 12: Femme Fatale In Your Area World Tour concert at IMPACT Arena in Bangkok, Thailand.

January 18: Femme Fatale In Your Area World Tour concert at Indonesia Convention Exhibition in Jakarta, Indonesia.

January 19: Femme Fatale In Your Area World Tour concert at Indonesia Convention Exhibition in Jakarta, Indonesia.

#fmdschedule #queued post

4 notes · View notes

idkthisisjustforfanfic · 5 years

Text

Part XII - The Untimely Downfall of Strangers

read parts 1-11 here

THEN - Day 1612

I didn’t know when interviewers would stop asking me about Margot, but today wasn’t that day.

I’d done three interviews for the movie--and each one seemed to focus generally on the whole idea that now, apparently, I was an actor. They also managed to slip in a question about whether or not I’d spoken to Margot. After the third one, Jeffrey had made an executive decision to demand that each media outlet cut those parts.

Things had died down, really. There weren’t new headlines every day, new rumors, new speculations about where Margot was and what I was doing about it.

In fact, I didn’t know where she was, I didn’t really want to know, and I frankly just wanted to move on with my life.

It’d been fourteen months since we’d broken up. The first year was miserable and I made it all the way to the one year mark still feeling like it was yesterday. Reliving all of it at the anniversary seemed to be healing in a way--or at least, it helped me process what had happened and hope for a better 2017.

So now, when people asked me if I’d spoken to her, if I’d heard from her, I couldn’t help but just be angry and annoyed and bothered.

I hadn’t heard from her, I hadn’t spoken to her, and it was my understanding that no one else had either. She hadn’t released music, made a statement, done much of anything, really.

The only thing to have even come from her mouth (or Nick’s, more realistically) was a statement in 2015 when she went to treatment that she was putting her health first and would take all of the time she needed. Nothing since.

“Anything new in terms of your love-life? You were in a very public relationship with Margot Jones--everyone is dying to know more about why it didn’t work out.”

I licked my lips quickly, thankful that the interview we were filming wasn’t live and thankful that Jeff was just off camera. I could see the way his eyebrows dipped at the sound of her name, looking up from his phone to see how I’d handle it.

“Nothing new,” I shook my head, offering the woman a small smile as I looked over to Jeff--part of me hoping he’d interrupt and redirect. “Just uh, focusing on the movie, some new music. Definitely just taking a pause for myself.”

Okay, so maybe I did wonder where she was and what she was doing. With the album coming out and with my time being spent increasingly in L.A., I couldn’t help but wonder what her life was now.

“How did the break up affect the rest of the boys from One Direction? I mean--clearly it was a heartbreaking thing I’m sure for you and Margot, but, any word how they’ve dealt with it?”

I shook my head slightly, hoping that this woman would pick up the hint that she wasn’t going to get much out of me. “You know, I think they’ve been so excited to focus on their new ventures as well, they’re all going to do some great things, so I’m wishing them the best in terms of time off and new adventures.”

None of that felt true in the moment--but I’d also been coached for years now on how to avoid uncomfortable questions.

But I wasn’t going to tell Macie--this woman in a yellow dress--that Niall refused to speak to me for the weeks after it happened because he claimed I let her walk out. I wasn’t going to tell her that Liam and Louis both avoided me for a while in fear that I’d be too emotional to handle the work related things we had to do at the end of the year.

I certainly wasn’t going to tell her that I hadn’t spoken to Zayn in months and had no idea if he even knew what had happened.

I knew Margot was talking to them--I mean, I figured she had kept in touch with Niall at first. But then I got a text from Liam asking if I knew that she was home (I didn’t, no one had told me).

And now, when Niall sent me a stupid meme or a text about sports and mutual friends, I’d fight the urge to ask how she was. I’d type it out and erase it and hope that one day he’d just decide to tell me everything he knew about what she was doing and how she was feeling and why on earth she decided that I wasn’t good enough for her anymore.

I’d heard from Niall that she wasn’t really writing. He’d seen her for lunch the last time he was in town, but he didn’t give me more than that. I wonder if she’d asked him not to.

It wouldn’t surprise me if his loyalty now laid with her--I mean, they’d always been close and for some reason, Margot found Niall to be much more entertaining than he really was. If he was at a point now where he chose her over me, I could live with it.

I’d already lived with Margot choosing everything else over me.

THEN - Day 724

I stood up on the loge level, stage left, watching as Margot finished the last song. The stadium was huge--it felt bigger in the audience than it did when we’d played it only a month prior. Bodies filled the seats that allowed them all to watch my girlfriend do her thing--a much less flashy version than she’d previously put on.

Margot had always had a love hate relationship with her fame--she loved it in the sense that she didn’t know anything else now. She loved her fans and her music and being creative. She loved the life that it allowed her to live.

But at the same time, she hated the way it dampened her spirit and her freedom and her world. She’d tried, over the last two years, to make music that was more her and less radio. She did different set designs, different wardrobe ventures, and worked tirelessly to be involved in every decision that was made about her life. I think that’s why she seemed so exhausted all of the time.

Sinead was beside me, swaying along to the song she’d heard probably 700 times by now. She offered a smile in my direction when she noticed my eyes on her, and I took the opportunity to lean over and speak into her ear.

“Are you as sick of this song as I am?”

She laughed, rolling her eyes as she shrugged. “Let’s just say we’re lucky she’s a good writer.”

I nodded and pushed my lips out in thought--knowing very well that Margot was likely just as sick of this song as I was. It didn’t stop her from dancing to it on stage like she was having the time of her life.

I wondered, as I watched the girl I loved, what thoughts went through her head at night. She was far more in demand than we were--whether or not 2014 had brought One Direction bigger stadiums and more press and more things on our to-do list.

I’d always wondered--especially when Margot and I started dating--if there’d come a time when she took a backseat. Not because I felt she needed to--more so because I think she wanted to.

“How’s she been lately?” I leaned over to ask Sinead, Margot spoke to the crown in gratitude of their presence and good energy. I knew she was getting close to the end of the show.

Sinead moved her head from side to side--admitting that Margot had most likely been difficult lately. She’d always get to a point at the end of the tour where she was ready for it to be over. She’d get cranky and homesick and just more irritable. She’d been having the time of her life on this tour--but I knew, with only two weeks left, she was ready to return to LA and begin filming the final season of her television show.

“She’s been okay--she’s tired. She’s super glad you’re here.”

Her words made a smile fight onto my face. The distance was hard--especially in the summer. Other times of year we could take weekends or weeks and align our schedules. We could try to be in the same city at the same time for different reasons.

But touring in the summer often had us on opposite sides of the planet for weeks at a time. Which is why--despite being rather sick of hearing Margot’s most recent number one single--I was happy to be spending my days off with her. We were right in the middle of our U.S. leg of the Where We Are tour, so being stateside gave me more access to Margot. We did our best, as always, to align any legs of our tours if we could--often playing the same venues only weeks apart.

So even if there were weeks when she was in Japan and I was in Spain, laying beside her at night in a hotel or on her bus made all of the red-eye flights worth it.

“Did you book her charter for when she comes to see us?”

Sinead nodded--reaching for her phone to send a text to Margot’s head of security. “Yep--she’s back in LA for a few days and then she’ll meet up with you guys for a long weekend in mid-September. Back for filming at the end of the month and then with you for the last three shows in October.”

Sinead’s mind often amazed me. Not only was it her job to keep Margot’s schedule straight--meaning fittings and shows and press and radio and filming and recording and rehearsing and writing--but she also had to have a fair enough understanding as to where in the world I was.

Sinead’s job--sometimes--seemed like she was trying to mix oil and water.

But she loved it--her and Margot had become close and she got on well with everyone on my side of the equation, too. I just wondered sometimes if she had the aching for a quiet life. Did she wish she could take time off in the summer instead of trailing behind Margot through different concert venues?

Margot’s words in the microphone caught my attention as the crowd erupted in cheers. “There’d be no better way--naturally--to end a show, so for our last song, can everyone sing as loud as they can?”

Sinead clapped and smiled down at Margot--who looked like a small figurine from our spots overhead. “I’m more sick of this one, to be honest,” she grinned up at me and started humming along as the band began to play.

NOW - Day 1718

Margot brought her eyes up to mine--I could see the thoughts swirling in her head as she seemed to scan my face. The desperation in my voice was probably obvious. “Don’t put up another wall,” I said, “we’ve got enough to take down.”

She licked at her lips and tried to exhale deeply--but she was stuck. She shook her head eventually and let out a laugh. “It’s not that easy, Harry. It’s like--here we are, just like the old summers, and I’m still afraid that there are all these people out here who would ruin our relationship if they could.”

I nodded--trying my best to validate the fear she held in her eyes. “I know, baby, I know. But s’not going to happen. It didn’t happen before.”

She looked away at that--apparently our interpretations were different. “Harry we were always fighting about the way you interacted with fans.”

“S’part of the job, Margot. I can’t just not be nice.”

She rolled her eyes--still standing a few feet away from me in the center of her deck. It was comical, almost--we reestablished our roles without even speaking of it--falling into place like we’d worn out footsteps on the floor.

“I’m not saying you can’t be nice. I’ve never said that, okay?”

I took a deep breath, not wanting to fight on the last night we had together--but also thankful for the fact that we were speaking. A few weeks ago, we couldn’t say the same.

“You are the person I care most about on this planet,” I said, reaching forward to bring her towards me. She looked at my hands hesitantly, wondering if she should take the risk and step towards me. I offered her a small smile when she met my eyes--walking towards me finally and extending her hands to meet mine.

I looked up at her, heart in my throat and emotion ready to pour out of me. “I want to do this, Margot. I want to try again. But if we do--I need you to know that I’m not backing out like last time. I’m not giving up like I did.”

She blinked a few times--processing my words. I didn’t know if she knew what I mean--I didn’t know if she took the words as seriously as I did.

I wanted her--all of her. I didn’t want to do this half-arsed or tentatively or with any reservations. There wasn’t a doubt it my mind that Margot was the person for me. With all of the eye-rolls and sarcasm included.

“I’m in if you are,” I told her, letting my thumbs rub circles on top of her skin.

She let out a quiet laugh, not as closed-off as she’d been a few minutes early. “I’m in, Harry--clearly I’m in,” she shrugged, another laugh escaping her lips as she looked around us--silently making reference to the fact that we were behaving like a couple.

But that was the thing about Margot--I don’t know if there was any other way I knew how to be with her. Either completely with her, 100% all in, or doing everything in my soul to forget her name and forget the way she laughed when I made a stupid joke.

THEN - Day 1189

Liam was mad at me and I knew it.

But that didn’t stop me from biting into the last banana in the fruit bowl in the green room before our performance at The X-Factor live finals.

He had his feet up on the coffee table--already dressed and done with hair and makeup. He scrolled on his phone, the tension building between us as I seemed to stand in the middle of the room awkwardly.

I’d told them to just drop it. I’d told them--probably a thousand times by now--that walking on eggshells wasn’t going to help anyone. They didn’t need to be nice to me or give me space or ask how I was feeling.

I told them to just act as if nothing had happened. The more we could just forget about it and move on, the easier it would be for me to not want to blow my brains out during these last few weeks of promo.

I’d told management that every single media outlet we worked with had to be contractually obliged to not mention her or our relationship or the break up. I made it extremely clear the morning after it happened in New York that I’d get up, walk out, or tell whoever was interviewing to go ahead and fuck right off. It might do well for ratings, but it wouldn’t do well for our overall image.

But still, I was sulking around most of the time, drinking too much and sleeping too much and ignoring too many text messages from important people.

Niall would call to make sure I was up and on my way to events, but I’d just let them go to voicemail. My mum would text and her message would go unread for a day or two before I had the courage to face the outside world that seemed to move on from the cold day in New York--the place in which my brain was stuck.

I wanted so badly to move on--I wanted to forget about her and the feelings and the way that now my head seemed foggy and unable to focus on anything but the words she’d said over the last six months.

“Can you not just stand there? At least sit or something,” Liam said, not bothering to look up at me.

“Why do you care where I am?” I shot back, ignoring the fact that Lou worked on Niall’s hair only a few feet away. I was sick of pretending like I was okay--yet I still hoped people would just treat me like I was.

“Because you’re just standing there like you’re waiting for something, mate. Just sit down and relax.”

“Don’t tell me to relax,” I said, my voice firm and angry as Louis entered the room with a smile on his face.

“How’s everyone doin’? An exciting night, yeah?”

“Bad time, Louis,” Niall said, the noise of Lou’s blow dryer muffled his voice from across the room.

Louis’ eyes seemed to scan the room--falling on me with a bit of disappointment. That’s how I’d sum it up, really--the way they’d been treating me. Disappointed. Disappointed that I hadn’t fixed everything between me and Margot, disappointed that I was depressed and in a shit mood. Disappointed that I wasn’t thoroughly enjoying the end of our band as if I wasn’t scared shitless of what was next.

“Y’alright, Harry?” Louis asked, flopping down onto the couch as he put his legs up beside Liam, crossing him arms over his chest as he waited for my answer.

“No--clearly I’m not fucking alright. Is that what you all need to hear? Do you want me to just admit that I’m fucking miserable and an idiot and I fucked up?”

Liam finally brought his eyes up now to look at me--Niall watched me through the mirror that hung in front of him.

“I know you’re all pissed at me--okay? I know you’re mad that I didn’t figure out how to fix things with her but I didn’t fucking know that was coming. I didn’t know her solution to the problem was to throw everything away. Did any of you? Yeah? Did any of you know that she was falling apart? You were all her friends, too. But none of you hold any guilt in any of this?”

Lou switched off the blow dryer--setting in on the table as she busied herself with her phone, clearly uncomfortable with being stuck in the middle of such a weighted conversation.

“Harry, no one’s trying to blame you,” Niall stood from the chair and moved towards us--his eyes narrowed as he watched me. “We wish you guys stayed together, f’course--but we’re not mad.”

“No? Not mad?” I let out a sarcastic laugh and let my hands slap against my thighs. “Then why the fuck have all of you reached out to her to see how she is but you can’t even bear to be in the same room as me?”

I didn’t have physical proof that they’d reached out--but I wasn’t stupid. I knew that as soon as Niall found out, he likely called and texted her a thousand times to get more details than he got from me. I knew Liam was upset to hear she’d entered treatment--Louis was freaked out that he didn’t get to see her before she left.

Radio silence in the room as Liam set his phone down on the coffee table and rested his elbows on his knees.

“We get it--okay? We get that this is hard and new and that all of us are dealing with a lot of change.”

I rolled my eyes at him. Sure--change. The word had lived in my head for a long time now. Ever since the spring when Zayn left in the middle of a fucking tour and Margot started asking about my plans for life after the band.

Things were changing for all of them, too, but not in the way it had for me. We’d all lost a bandmate. We’d all lost a friend. We were all going into uncharted territory and hoping for the best.

But they still had the people beside them to make it less terrifying. Liam had his girlfriend, Louis had his. Niall had us and his brother and his friends from back home.

I had them. I had my family. I had the support of people who cared about me--but none of it would make up for the fact that I didn’t have her.

In the span of 30 days, I was losing the two of the most important things in my life. I looked at the three of them--shocked that they thought they understood how I was feeling when none of them had been in this set up.

“No,” I shook my head, anger bringing heat to my face as I let my tongue glide along the back of my teeth as I headed for the door. “You don’t get it.”

NOW - Day 1719

Being friends with James Corden was a blessing and a curse. There were plenty of ways that being his friend had perks. I’d met a lot of people through him--I always could count on him to be game for some take away and video games, and most importantly, he was supportive and loving and all of that good friend stuff.

But now, as I sat in his the passenger seat of a Range Rover in a parking lot in LA, getting ready to film a carpool karaoke segment, I was less than impressed with my friend as he laughed to himself. “M’not gonna go too hard, Harry--but people are figuring it out. I mean, you haven’t exactly been subtle about it, have you?”

I rolled my eyes, rubbing at the bridge of my nose as a woman brushed more powder onto my nose, completely unable to stop the smile from reaching my cheeks as I responded. “People don’t know everything--and you always want me to tell you everything.”

“I do not,” he defended, reaching for the microphone that clipped to the inside of his collar.

I adjusted the sunglasses on my head and watched as traffic whizzed by us outside. “It’s not a big deal, we’re just taking it slow.”

“Please do not ask him a shit ton about it,” Jeff said, coming up behind the woman who did my makeup-- a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Oh I’m going to ask him about it,” James nodded confidently. “And he’ll give me some shit-eating grin answer and I’ll try not to laugh at how ridiculous he sounds.”

Jeff let out a laugh and headed back for the hallway--clearly not too worried about whatever was about to happen. And that was another blessing--being friends with James meant he’d give me shit and push me a bit, but he also had nothing but respect for me and my privacy.

I shook my head as I took a sip of the coffee Jeff had delivered--thankful for the people around me. Emma, my assistant, seemed to be buried in her phone as she hid beneath the overhang of the CBS studio only a few yards away. Doing the first bit of promo with my album out was sure to be nerve-wracking, but I felt good about the fact that things between Margot and I were stable. At least--stable enough.

We were talking and texting like things were back to the way they were--before she was sad and distant.

James’ studio manager gave us cue to get started--James turned the key in the ignition and I pulled my door shut, I pointed two fingers at James to imply I’m watching you.

A voice came over the walkie-talkie that James had in the cupholder--giving us permission to pull out and turn right onto the busy road in front of us. It wasn’t my first time doing one of these with James--but it was my first without other people sat beside me in the car.

He did as we were told, and once we were on the road, mixed in with the lunch-time traffic, the voice inside the walkie-talkie let us know that cameras were now on and filming, we could start whenever we pleased.

James cleared this throat and adjusted in his seat, I gave him the thumbs up to let him know I was game. A few seconds of silence.

“Oh man, thank you so much for helping me get to work--I really, really appreciate it,” James had both hands on the wheel now, looking over to offer me a small smile.

“Thanks for the ride, s’my pleasure,” I nodded at him, wondering how long he’d take to get to it. I knew he planned on asking about the band--my new album, the movie, all of that. But I also knew that he’d tastefully weave in some questions about Margot. Whether or not he named it as such, I was yet to find out.

“The last time you were here, you were not alone in the car--and now you are, now you’re up front.”

“I was back middle,” I nodded, remembering the last time we did this--a stop for McDonald’s half way through as Liam got hungry.

“Yeah,” James said. “That’s right, you were right there, and now you’re right here, how d’ya feel?” He motioned to both spots in the car that I’d occupied, I took a second to look around in the front, appreciating the space I had now without Liam and Louis on either side of me.

“I feel like--uh--like I have more control over the buttons.”

“Over the air and stuff?”

“The buttons, yeah,” I laughed, gaining a laugh from James as he brought his eyes back to the road.

“I don’t know if you’re speaking on a different level--if the buttons, if you’re saying you’ve got more control over the buttons but the buttons are something deeper than just the buttons in the car.”

I laughed, nodding slightly as I picked up on his analogy. “Could be.”

I couldn’t help but notice that I felt more at ease than I’d felt in interviews for a long time--especially now that things seemed to be more concrete with Margot. The hardest part of interviews after we broke up was the uncertainty. What did I say? How did I manage to be pleasant when I was in a shit mood?

Releasing the album, having it out and streaming now felt a bit strange. The stories I told through lyrics and music were no longer just for me. And now, singing along to them in the car with James opened me up for a whole slew of questions I’d been rehearsing my answers to for a week.

He asked me what I’d been up to since I’d seen him last and he complimented the album, which felt exciting and nauseating at the same time. I wondered, for a second, if this is how Margot felt when she heard it for the first time.

He played a few songs and we chatted about what it’d been like to be making this album alone--without the safety net of a band of friends standing behind you. But I could tell, when he looked over at me, that he was about to go in for the kill.

“So people have heard the album now--have friends and family texted you to let you know they’ve listened and which song they like best?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve gotten a few messages from people.”

“Right--and have you gotten word, I mean--let’s be real, people know there’s one person that this album really focuses on, yeah?”

I fought the smile on my face--letting my gaze float out the window as I plucked at my lower lip. “M’not sure what you mean.”

“Oh yeah, Harry, sure,” James laughed, causing me to readjust in the seat as I let out a laugh.

“Margot Jones, yeah? There’s been a lot of talk about your relationship with her and your break up and everything in between.”

“Mmm, mhm,” I nodded--hoping that some honesty would gain me credit or respect or something that would make James tone it down a notch or two. “Yeah--I think people will hear this album and wonder--y’know--if there are pieces about certain events or days or people. But the best part about making an album is really letting the music tell the story so you don’t have to.”

James’ eyebrows were raised, his eyes on me as we took a left turn. “Casual answer, Harry, really,” his laugh filled up the car, contagious enough that even I started giggling a bit--at least enough to relax.

“No but really--you’ve been seen out with Margot lately, which I think is quite the turn of events for folks who followed your relationship.”

I stared at him, somewhat surprised at the straightforwardness of his question, but also a bit impressed by his ability to play the clueless card. I always found that interesting when I did interviews with people I actually knew--people who were my friends.

When I came and saw James or did radio things with Nick, it was funny to hear them ask me questions in front of the camera that they already knew the answer to.

“Yeah--I mean, Margot’s a wonderful person, and it’s nice to spend time with someone who knows you so well.”

I didn’t know if that would cut it--I didn’t know if that was vague enough for Jeff’s liking or subtle enough for Margot’s.

“Fans really love to speculate about songs and lyrics and what’s about who. I think you could probably find twelve page essays online that detail,” he let out a laugh, I waited for him to spit it out, knowing full well where he was going. “That detail why each lyric is about her or about your relationship.”

“S’dedication, really,” I joked, picking up my water bottle to take a sip. Margot said that that was my tell. I’d reach for water or for something to do during an interview when I got a bit nervous. I pushed the thought out of my head.

“Y’should have pulled a Maroon 5--called it Songs About Margot,” He suggested, a cheeky grin on his face, which nearly caused me to spit the water out in my mouth .

“Yeah we threw the idea around actually,” I joked, running a hand through my hair as James pressed a button, another song coming out of the speakers.

We drove around like that for about an hour--singing and laughing and even switching shirts in an empty parking garage. We made our way back towards the studio, and once we arrived, I climbed out of the car and greeted Jeff with sunglasses over my eyes.

“Vague enough, yeah?”

Jeff shrugged, a smile on his face as he handed me my phone. I think he was just happy that I wasn’t so fucking miserable anymore.

“Hey,” James called from behind me, a woman tugged at his shirt to get his microphone loose. “Still on for dinner next week in London?”

“Absolutely,” I nodded. “You’re cooking for me, right?”

He rolled his eyes, appreciating my jokes as he handed the car keys to a production assistant. “Yeah right--naked beneath an apron and all.”

THEN - Day 1528

Being in Los Angeles wasn’t weird. Being here without Margot was.

I mean--I guess I couldn’t even say that. I’d been here plenty without her. Hell--the first few times we jetted all the way to the West Coast, I didn’t even know if she knew I existed.

But this was her turf--no matter where I was or who I was with, Los Angeles would always make me think of her. The exit on the freeway to get to the driveway where we met, the right turn down Sunset Boulevard to get to the studio where she’d filmed her show.

So now--sitting in an office on Selma Avenue felt like I was intruding on her territory.

I’d always wondered if I’d see her. Would I bump into her on a red carpet? Would she ever do events again? Would I see her at Niall’s wedding (if that ever happened)? I had no clue where she was at--both physically and emotionally, so I was left to wonder what on earth she did with her time in the city that seemed to belong to her.

Our meeting was over--I stood from the chair and hoped to god I could get some food into me before I had to go to whatever meeting I had next. Finishing the album brought forth a lot of conversations about money and planning and terms of agreement.

“Grab a burger?” Emma suggested, watching as I followed behind her towards the door. I reached into my pocket, fishing my phone out and checking the messages I’d received in the span of an hour and a half. One was from Mitch, the other from a friend, and two from my mom.

“Sounds delightful,” I said with a smile, listening as my publicist began to list good places nearby.

Jeff held his hand out to motion towards the door--ushering me back to the car that would be waiting outside. “There’s that place in the Roosevelt Hotel,” he reminded.

“That place has great fries,” Mark--the head of the artist relations spoke, following us into the hallway. “Good to see you, Harry, we’ll meet again in a few weeks once we get this finalized on our end.”

I shook his hand, offering a smile. “Thanks, of course, good to see you as well.”

I turned to follow them towards the main entrance, still distracted by the messages on my phone. I followed silently behind them, laughing at the picture my mum had sent of her cat in the garden, until suddenly, I lifted my eyes and saw her watching me with wide eyes.

My feet kept moving--mostly because Jeff’s were doing the same behind me. Emma was staring straight ahead--both of them likely just as surprised as I was.

Sinead seemed to knock into her from behind, lifting her eyes to connect with mine. Margot--whose hair looked darker and whose eyes seemed less sunken in--fell back into step quickly, almost as if she hadn’t faltered at all.

Jeff was in the middle of a sentence--something about what Mark had said and the car outside and suddenly his words were floating around in the hallway like they’d fade after a few minutes if I didn’t respond.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I said--unsure if my response was even appropriate or logical. I followed Emma out to the parking lot, and once the door was shut behind us, I turned to face Jeff.

Emma, who’d turned to face me, seemed to scan over my face to make sure I was okay.

“Is no one going to address that?” I asked, holding my palms up to encourage some kind of response from either of them. They both stared at me blankly. “Am I supposed to go back in there? Am I supposed to go address the fact that she’s here and we just saw each other and--”

“And say what?” Jeff asked, lifting his pointer finger to flick his sunglasses down over his eyes. “It’s been over a year.”

“I’m aware, Jeffrey,” I bit out, narrowing my eyes at him.

He’d long been a supporter of the Move On From Margot campaign--something that seemed to be a common theme among my friends and family and team.

“I’m not trying to be hard on her, okay? I just don’t want you to--” he cut himself off, letting his shoulders rise and fall as a car pulled up to deliver us to our next location. He opened the door and let Emma climb in first.

I faltered for a second--my eyes flickering back to the doorway. Was I supposed to do something? Was I supposed to talk to her?

“Don’t want me to what?” I prompted, the hum of the engine quieted when the car shifted into park.

“I don’t want you to move backwards. You’ve done so well since the New Year.” I let out a sigh, looking down at the ground before back up at him. “Let’s get lunch.”

I gave in then--I climbed into the car and watched as the building faded out of sight. I wondered why she was there and what she thought and did she notice that I cut my hair?

I pulled opened the message thread between us--the one that I’d saved and had yet to erase.

Her last message stared up at me.

I’m room 1432. Come by when you can.

I should have known then. I should have known when she got her own hotel room and asked me to come by. I should have known it was coming.

I let my thumbs hover over the keys, as if I had something to say or words to speak and emotion to show. After a few seconds of staring at those words--the last she’d sent me, I deleted the thread entirely.

THEN - Day 753

“Don’t even touch it, Liam,” Louis voice was louder than necessary, but my laughter seemed to drown out Harry’s groan as Niall pushed play on the laptop in my lap.

“I’ll touch whatever I want, thank you very much,” Liam replied calmly, watching as the screen turned from black to white, big text filling the screen that read Where We Are 2014.

Niall had decided he was going to document their tour--small clips from his phone, pictures we’d all taken, different footage of the five of them goofing around started to play as Zayn shoved Louis so he could get a better look.

The tour was almost over--mine had ended two weeks prior--so we were officially set up to be on the same continent for a little over two months. And it was moments like these, really, that made the traveling and the distance worth it.

A photo of Liam and I with giant sombreros flashed across the screen, followed by a clip of the night that Harry caught 29 goldfish in his mouth when he demanded I throw them and we try to set a world record.

Harry--who’d been more emotional than usual--was reluctant to even watch. He knew that the end of tour always made him a bit nostalgic, and while that was more than okay with me, he didn’t necessarily love the teasing that came from the rest of the boys.

I sat next to him on the floor of the green room, my back up against the couch as we all stared at the laptop that Niall had lugged around all summer. Lou and Paul were watching on as well, and Harry’s hand on my thigh felt like a good reminder that even when I had bad days, I had the people beside me to bring me back down to earth.

I wondered, when I was on the road with them, if it would have been easier to do all of this with a band. Would there be less stress if the fame had been spread amongst three or four other girls? Would I have more fun if I had friends with me on stage, people to walk red carpets with?

Sure, I’d somehow become a package deal with his band, often attending events together and even walking red carpets as if I was just part of the group--but did I stand a better chance as a part of a whole?

The truth was that I’d never know, and while there were certainly perks to being in a group, there were also drawbacks. I saw the way the boys would fight. I saw the angry text messages and the cold stares after a disagreement the night before.

I saw what it was like to be stuck around the same five people--literally in the same ten foot vicinity with the same five people--for months on end. I saw the way that they were sad to leave tour, but also thankful for their own bed that wasn’t just a meter below someone else’s.

“Oh, Liam--the cutest little grin,” Zayn laughed, his accent thick as he reached up to pinch Liam’s cheeks.

I think these were the moments when we all questioned what life would be like had it turned out any other way. How would things be for them if they weren’t a group? What would happen if there were three or four instead of five? Changes within our little world felt like they’d rock the boat to a sea where we couldn’t sail.

“You look fucking wasted there, Harry,” Louis laughed, his finger pointing to the screen--a picture of Harry and Liam with their arms around each other in a parking lot told me (based on the grin on Harry’s face both in the photo and in the present moment) that he likely was.

There were pictures of them in various airports--embarrassing photos of me asleep on a couch in Milwaukee, and even photographic evidence that I’d beaten Niall in a game of ping pong once in Madrid.

I watched as they all stared at the screen--and I couldn’t help but wonder if they ever had the same thoughts as me. Did they feel as suffocated? Did they wonder what it’d be like to quit or move or just not wake up?

Maybe they did--maybe they had their days where they wondered if this was all meant to be. But the hardest part was the fact that I knew I couldn’t ask. If I did--I might feel even more alone.

NOW - Day 1720

Nathan was sat at the board as my voice filled the headphones. I watched his face--wondering if he thought the vocal was good enough to keep.

He tapped his foot to the beat, the watch on his wrist (a gift from his wife in 2014 when we’d finished my last album) caught the light from the window as he shifted in his seat and sighed.

Making music felt good. It felt natural and normal and in a way, it felt healing. It felt comforting to reflect on the feelings that had once sat so heavy on my chest--even if they weren’t completely gone. Amanda said it was therapeutic--almost like retelling my story and reprocessing the memories, except this time, I knew the ending.

I knew that Harry was back and that I was okay and that now--even with the anxious feeling that was never too far away--I knew I could handle it.

My voice faded from the headphones in my ears--we’d only recorded a verse and the first chorus.

“I think that’s good,” he said, looking up at me. “Let’s do the second verse and see how we feel later tonight.”

I stood from my seat beside him, ready to head back into the booth.

“Did you tell Harry you’re here today?”

I turned around once I was inside, the glass window separating us as I reached for the new set of headphones to play my feedback. “Yeah--but, I don’t know what he thinks I’m recording.”

“What do you mean?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t think he knows that I’m recording stuff from back then.”

All of the songs we’d worked on so far--the titles written on post it’s that were now stuck to the wall--were my side of things. Maybe not as blatant, maybe not as literal and direct--but they were my version of the same story that Harry had already told.

And when I thought about it like that, I got angry. With Harry on the other side of the world for his promo and press tour and me in a studio in Calabasas, I felt like it wasn’t fair that he got to do it first.

Especially because his side of things didn’t exactly feel true.

I’d spoken with Amanda about how it all felt: the fact that I was the bad guy in his story and he was the one who was helpless and hopeless and had nowhere to turn.

Whether or not things felt okay between me and Harry--whether or not he was starting to call me lovie again and whether or not we were sleeping together, I couldn’t help but wonder if a part of him was angry and hurt and wanted me to pay for what I did.

“Are you gonna tell him?”

I sighed at that--I hadn’t moved beyond the thoughts of how do I communicate with someone I’m sleeping with but who doesn’t have the same label he used to have but is currently on the other side of the planet?

“I’ll tell him eventually. I mean--he’ll hear it eventually.”

Nathan let out a laugh, his lips pursing together as he nodded. “I mean--don’t dish it if you can’t take it, right?”

NOW - Day 1727

I guess it was Harry’s way of showing he was dedicated.

Hillary had an opening on a day that he wasn’t in town--in fact, he was in Barcelona in a hotel room sitting on a king-sized bed. But his face was on the screen of my laptop, situated next to me on the couch in Hillary’s office as she let out a laugh.

“Can you hear us? If you miss anything we say, just raise your hand.”

“Got it,” he smiled, the corners of his lips twitched upward as he looked from Hillary and then to me.

It’d be fine so far. Fine enough in the sense that I was keeping busy with Nathan and dodging the media, and Harry was busy doing everything in front of the media to promote the album. Amanda had suggested I tell him a bit more--tell him that there was a part of me that was angry about the album. A part of me that was tormented over the thought that he’d slept with someone else.

And most importantly, she said, that I tell him about my plans to release the songs I was working on with Nathan in the same studio where I’d recorded my album that won a Grammy for Album of the Year.

It’s not that the songs were harsh: they weren’t necessarily accusatory or spiteful or anything like that. Instead, they were honest. They told my version of 2015 and 2016 and Harry might not like it.

But did he have the right? Did he have the right to be upset about my side of the story if I had to grin and bear it about his? I didn’t say a thing. I didn’t tell him when I got DMs from people attacking me for breaking his heart. I didn’t let him know that I had bookmarked a few articles from the NYT and the Post about how his album seems to really put the nail in the coffin of our relationship.

Because after all, how could we salvage anything after he told the entire world how everything was my fault?

I knew I needed to tell him--I knew the good of our relationship rested on the assumption that we would be nothing but honest. Which, realistically, probably meant that I had a few things to come clean about. The songs. My feelings about his album. The stomachache I got when I opened my social media accounts--still with nothing new posted since 2015--to see messages and comments calling me an attention whore and a bitch and just about everything in between.

“So--how has the distance been so far?” Hillary asked, her eyes flicking between the both of us as she waited to see who would answer. Harry seemed quiet, his eyes insinuating (even through a computer screen) that he wanted me to talk first.

“Good, I guess. We’ve talked a fair amount.”

Hillary nodded, her eyes moving to the computer screen quickly.

“Yeah--” Harry shrugged. “Despite the time difference we’ve talked on the phone every day.”

“How are you both feeling about being apart?”

Again, Harry’s eyes were on me. I wondered--for a second--if there was a part of him that just wanted to hear all of my thoughts and feelings out of fear that he wouldn’t get access to them if we weren’t in this room.

“Uh--I kind of feel, like, stressed, I guess.” The words felt rocky--it felt new and strange to be speaking honestly in front of him.

“What feels stressful?” Hillary prompted me to say more--I shifted in the seat and looked over to Harry. I knew the drill--she was asking me to speak more directly to him and use ‘I’ statements.

“I feel like I got left behind while you’re out having fun doing all sorts of album stuff. I don’t know if that makes sense,” I said quickly, looking to Hillary for some reassurance.

His eyebrows dipped together in the center of his forehead, but he nodded--apparently urging me to continue.

I took a deep breath and bit at my lip before saying more. “I guess I’m a little angry that I got painted like the bad guy. I know I already said that and you’re just telling your side of it, but there’s been a lot of backlash.”

“Backlash?”

“Yes, Harry, backlash.”

He tugged at his lip and looked off screen for a second. “How so?”

“On social media and online and stuff,” I shrugged, a little annoyed that he was clueless. “People are just really going at it--a lot of your fans are angry at me for the way things went down.”

“Well--they don’t know the whole story.”

“But they think they do. They think your album is the whole story.”

He was quiet at this. Hillary leaned back in her chair and adjusted her ponytail. Apparently she was pleased with our communication, whether or not it was emotional.

“What are they saying?”

“That I’m a bitch and that I didn’t care about you. I mean--none of that is new, I knew they felt that way when we broke up. But I didn’t see it all. I wasn’t looking online.”

“So--should you not look?” He asked the question innocently enough, but it irked me as I brushed a strang of hair behind my ear.

“It’s not that simple, Harry.”

“Margot--I don’t know what to tell you. This is why I warned you--I wanted you to know it was coming and I wanted you to be prepared.”

“I know,” I said, suddenly feeling guilty for my emotions. I knew he did it to be nice--I knew that his good nature is the reason we were even here--in couples counseling like some kind of lifetime movie.

“You have to understand though that it’s hard to be silent right now when you’re out there in the spotlight telling a story that doesn’t feel true.”

“Margot,” Hillary interrupted, her eyes narrowed a bit. “I’m wondering if you could tell me how it feels to be stuck here--especially if you’re not getting to tell your side of things right now.”

I took a deep breath--Harry let out a sigh and I searched for the words in Hillary’s cozy office.

“I feel abandoned, sort of. I feel left behind and forgotten and I guess angry. And I feel like I’m in trouble for doing something wrong when I didn’t do anything.”

Harry’s face scrunched at that. Apparently he disagreed.

“Harry?” Hillary turned to the computer. “What’s it feel like to hear Margot say all of that.”

“S’confusing,” he shrugged. “I feel accused now, I guess. I didn’t abandon her or forget her. I’m just working. She--of all people--should know what that’s like.”

I rolled my eyes--annoyed at his passive aggressive tone.

Hillary tried again. “But do you feel any other way other than accused?”

He licked his lips and thought for a second. The hotel room was dark behind him--I wondered what time it was and what time he had to be awake. A feeling of appreciating washed over me. He wasn’t perfect. He certainly wasn’t flawless and completely free of blame--but at least he was trying.

And that gave me hope. Hope for the future of us and for the future of whatever it was between us. In this awkward stage post break-up, we moved like figurines, cracked and fragile and worried about the damage that could ensue with just a few words.

I couldn’t help but resent that, though. Because here, sitting in Hillary’s office, with Harry transported in through pixels and WiFi, he was ignoring the fact that he’d written an entire album about our the time we shared and the time we then tried to forget. He was sitting here as if he hadn’t put me on blast and opened up our story to the criticism of the whole world. Something about it felt unfair.

So sure--maybe I was angry. Maybe I was angry that I was stuck in California wondering what he did in Barcelona today--similarly to the last 18 months. Maybe I was angry because all of the polarized feelings felt rushed and fleeting and I didn’t really know what to do or say next in the neverending psychodrama of my relationship with Harry.

But I knew one thing for sure: if he got to tell his side of the story, I got to tell mine.

#udos #Harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fiction #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #Harry Styles #one direction fan fic #one direction fan fiction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fanfic #1dff

45 notes · View notes

americanahighways · 5 years

Text

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

photos by Jimmy Faber

Watching The National Reserve and Sarah Shook & the Disarmers play back-to-back at the Ardmore Music Hall last Saturday night, I realized that I was witnessing two nascent Americana bands literally headed in opposite directions.

Shook & Co. were on their last stop of a four-shows-in-four-nights East coast mini-tour, having been on tour — not only across the U.S., but in Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Canada, the Netherlands, the U.K. and Spain to boot — almost non-stop since early March of 2018. The National Reserve, on the other hand, were just about to embark on the European leg of their ongoing tour, with shows starting next week in Norway, Sweden, Denmark and Germany in support of their debut album Hotel La Grange.

Having caught Shook & the Disarmers, along with Zephaniah O’hora and Grady Hoss & The Sidewinders, at the tiny Dawson Street Pub in Philly in April of 2018, I was curious to see how the notoriously hard grind of life on the road might have affected them. The most obvious result was that the band was tight as hell, rolling through the best songs from their two albums (2017’s “Sidelong” and their 2018 follow-up “Years”) with precision, finesse and intensity. Shook’s voice was in fine fiddle and got stronger as the night went on, while guitarist Eric Peterson and pedal steel player Phil Sullivan took turns laying down tasty, Bakersfield-inspired licks. Bassist Aaron Oliva made playing barroom-brawl country on an upright bass look easy, while drummer Kevin McClain held the band’s groove steady throughout, shining particularly (though unobtrusively) on their trainbeat-driven numbers.

The band had clearly developed a solid sense of showmanship since I last saw them, when they came across as more of a fun-loving bar band that didn’t take itself all that seriously. Last March, Shook’s banter was carefree and edgy in that tough-chick, “I- don’t-give-a-shit” way of hers, the band happily chatted with the audience and the other bands’ personnel both on-stage and on the tiny patio by Dawson Street’s side door, they drank a just a wee bit (a-hem!), and they seemed genuinely to be having one hell of a good time.

This time around they seemed more self-aware, image-wise. Perhaps it was just that they are now playing bigger venues (the Ardmore Music Hall is easily eight times the size of the tiny Dawson St. Pub) as well as to more popular acclaim, with its attendant critical microscopes. Peterson, for example, came dressed up for the occasion, resplendent in a black silk top-hat decorated with a bright red band; with his lean, black-clad frame, dark-framed glasses and distinctly parted fu manchu- like grey beard, he looked the part of a poster-ready rock star.

The other band members were less nattily attired though. Except for Shook, who wore her usual combo of leather jacket (quickly removed), tattoos and fitted tee, they came casually dressed in grey t-shirts and jeans. Still, combined with the stage’s greater remove (compared to the stageless Dawson St. at least), the relative lack of between- song banter, the professional staging and light management, the overall impression I had was of a band that was less casual, but by the same token more professional and intent on taking their craft seriously.

The humorous moments I caught during the band’s time on stage at the AMH came when the singer ceremoniously tipped her plastic cup of whiskey with an over-hearty “Cheers!” to the crowd, and then later when I caught a glimpse of the band’s set list, with its cute, inside-jokey replacement of several abbreviated song names with titles like “Farting” (for “Parting Words”), “Home Fries” (for “Keep the Home Fires Burning”) and “Whut” (for “What It Takes”).

The crowd ate it up, singing along knowingly with several numbers. Those included “Fuck Up,” onto which the audience added an incongruously merry gloss to Shock’s weary, simmering anger, and “New Ways to Fail,” during which the crowd gave special emphasis to the line “I need this shit like I need ANOTHER HOLE IN MY HEAD.” By the time they got to “Damned If I Do, Damned If I Don’t” — during which Sullivan’s pedal steel quickly rose to the feisty occasion — a bunch of white- haired older gentleman in flannel shirts, jeans and trucker caps were crowding the front of the stage and shouting along with every word.

The only rumble of dissatisfaction I sensed from the crowd came when the band limited its encore performance to a single song. (In response to Shook’s ”We’ve got one more for you,” the crowd responded pleadingly: “How about two more?!?”) But what a performance that encore was! — with Shook spitting out the “Nah-AIILL in this here coffin” like an angry Appalachian cast-off, Peterson cueing up yet another habañero-hot Telecaster solo, and Sullivan following that with a series of well-lubricated pedal steel lines that prompted a chorus of “Yee-haw!!!’s” from the balcony.

Two earlier moments in the show shared the energy and joy of that encore. The first came when Shook delivered the recently-released ballad “The Way She Looked at You,” digging in passionately on the mournful chorus while Sullivan’s pedal steel wept openly behind her. The other big bump in energy, which sent a perceptible electric zing through the crowd this time, came when Peterson and Sullivan traded fours about 2:30 into “What It Takes,” while drummer Kevin McClain alternated deftly between delicate rim taps and rock-solid pounding. The ensemble playing was as tight as on the recording, but hearing and seeing it performed live was absolutely thrilling. It was clear at these moments that the band was not only clicking on all fours, but actively enjoying itself.

In short, Shook and her Disarmers delivered on all counts and clearly matched or exceeded the audience’s expectations. Still, to my mind at least, they did so in the professional and slightly cool manner of, say, a really good mechanic — rather than, in contrast with last year’s pre-European tour show at Dawson St., a band that was excited to be raisin’ hell out on the road, meeting new folks every night, and basking in the glory of a great new record.

On the other hand, the latter was exactly the vibe The National Reserve gave off during their thrilling 75+ minute, 11-song set. While I’m not sure the Reserve is quite “there yet” (to use a hack-critical phrase) in terms of the level of their songwriting — which is not as memorable and distinctive as Shook’s, for example — and their approach’s originality, they brought an impressive energy and verve, along with a white-hot level of musicianship, to their set at the AMH.

Like Shook and her Disarmers on their last two passes through Philly in 2018 (the second was at Johnny Brenda’s in mid-September), the Reservists seemed intent on kicking butt and taking no prisoners at AMH. Led by songwriter, vocalist and multi- instrumentalist Sean Walsh along with the towering Jon Ladeau on vocals and guitar, The Reserve came out rocking right off the bat with a Ladeau-led power-poppish number that incorporated three-part harmonies and (naturally) a jangly Rickenbacher guitar. Ladeau is a BIG guy and a strong vocalist with a rough-edged, soulful voice, and with his long dark hair and beard, American flag-adorned jeans jacket and hiking boots, he projected a powerful yet laid-back presence.

Walsh, who grew up about a half-hour from Ardmore, took over the lead vocals on the second number, and the two continued to toss the lead vocal baton back and forth for the duration of the set, with bassist Scott Povrick and drummer Brian Geltner intermittently contributing tasty harmonies. Walsh adorned this bouncy, melodic number with a scorching Les Paul solo featuring a nifty descending slide lick, which was followed by a second solo by Ladeau that actually drew screams from the crowd.

This back-and-forth dynamic, with their talents intertwining at times, continued throughout, much to the crowd’s delight. The Reservists followed those first two numbers with a wide variety of tunes, including a swampy blues rocker highlighted by a Freddie King-like solo by Ladeau; a folksy-twangy Americana singalong number called “Abe Lincoln”; a southern rocker featuring “Sweet Home, Alabama”-ish chord changes, a dual guitar attack AND dueling vocals; and a cover of Derroll Adams’ “Roll On, Babe” that incorporated a vaguely Caribbean shuffle beat, a glissando solo over chimey rhythm guitar effects, and a superb Les Paul slide solo by Walsh.

The second half of their set included the title song from their album Hotel La Grange, a slow ballad about meeting the “queen of Bowling Green” at that hotel; a mid-tempo country rocker with Allman Brothers overtones; a slide-centered blues rocker that evolved into an extended jam that showed off all of the band’s skills, drawing wild applause from the crowd and the exclamation “MAN, this is fun!” from Ladeau; and a tasty roots-gospel-country rock singalong with the refrain “Let me ride in your big Cadillac, Lord Jesus / Let me ride in your big Cadillac.” The audience happily crooned along on the latter.

They closed with a jammy southern rocker that featured more tasty harmonies and snazzy tempo changes. Watson and Ladeau cut loose on the breakdowns and solos during this one, without the song’s ever getting raggedy or wooly. Tight in concept and delivery, it was a fitting finale to the band’s impressive set.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention local duo Hannah Taylor and Rekardo Lee (aka, Jesse Lundy), who opened the evening with a fun eight-song set of blues-based numbers. With her big up-draft of bright red hair and blonde cowboy boots, Taylor belted out these tunes — which encompassed everything from mellow mid-tempo numbers, to a rockin’ Ricky’ Nelson number (“I Believe”), to some obscure, low-down 1920s blues ditties and even a slow, sweet version of “Blue Bayou” — with a twangy yet robust voice reminiscent of early Bonnie Raitt. Alternating between a metal resonator guitar that was “double-signed” (the first signature had rubbed off) by Edgar Winter and a jumbo acoustic, Lee complemented Taylor’s voice perfectly with his good-’n’-growly slide accompaniment and Chuck Berry-inflected blues licks. Their good-natured, diverse set proved the perfect aperitif for the night’s main courses.

—————

Merch, videos, and tour dates for Sarah Shook & the Disarmers can be found at: https://www.disarmers.com

Tour dates, band info, recordings and merch for The National Reserve are available at: https://thenationalreserve.com/home

Info and links for Hannah Taylor and the Rekardo Lee Trio can be found at: https:// http://www.facebook.com/htrl3/

Show Review: Life on the Road: Sarah Shook & the Disarmers and The National Reserve Rev Up Their Engines at the Ardmore Music Hall @sarahshook @nationalreserve @ardmoremusicpa photos by Jimmy Faber Watching The National Reserve and Sarah Shook & the Disarmers play back-to-back at the Ardmore Music Hall last Saturday night, I realized that I was witnessing two nascent Americana bands literally headed in opposite directions.

0 notes