A plectrum and spliff filled tale of two guitarists struggling against psychotic bass players, neurotic parents and dodgy music dealers as they climb the slippery slop to Rock n’ roll nirvana.
Excerpt:-
The audience is really buzzing tonight, I mean really buzzing – all ten thousand of them jumping and dancing like the floor’s on fire. And as the band approaches the end of the second chorus where my guitar solo is due to start, I feel that collective buzz fizzing through my bones, fuelling my body with more power than the fifty thousand watt mother of a PA system that towers behind me. And I know, just know, as I stomp on the overdrive that it’s going to be one of those perfect guitar solos, maybe the perfect solo.
As the last beat of the last bar of the chorus ends, I guess I feel how a surfer must feel just before catching the perfect wave or how a footballer feels just before scoring the perfect goal. It’s as if the moment your board touches the spray, or your boot touches the ball or (in my case) your fingers touch the strings, you sense that this is the big one – that elusive moment when everything seems to flow with effortless clarity.
THE CASINO KID By Roger Frederick
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As I launch into the solo my confidence is justified. Tonight my White Falcon is blessed by the Great God Gretsch and the twin reverberating saints of Fender. But this is no easy ride. The feedback is right on the edge. Bending the strings is like balancing barefoot on barb wire. One false move and this beautiful moment could end in an ugly scream. But I’m hanging in there floating down to the front of the stage, grinning at ten thousand ecstatic faces.
Suddenly, one face, a promising brunette in a sea of insipid blondes, catches my eye. And I give her my most intimidating rock god stare. But instead of looking bashfully away as they usually do. She stares defiandy back at me. And I know tonight she’s the one. And suddenly it’s as if I’m playing just for her. []
*this review taken from site: getfreeebooks.com
