The Barrytown Trilogy (12 page)

—What’s Dean been listenin’ to? Jimmy asked.

—Charlie Parker.

—He’s supposed to be good but.

—Good! Joey The Lips gasped. —The man had no right to his black skin.

Joey The Lips was getting worked up. It was some sight. They stood back and enjoyed it.

—They should have burnt it off with a fucking blow lamp.

—Language, Joey!

—Polyrhythms! Polyrhythms! I ask you! That’s not the people’s sound. ——Those polyrhythms went through Brother Parker’s legs and up his ass. ——And who did he play to? I’ll tell you, middle-class white kids with little beards and berets. In jazz clubs. Jazz clubs! They didn’t even clap. They clicked their fingers.

Joey The Lips clicked his fingers.

—Like that. ———I’ll tell you something, Brothers. ——I’ve never told anyone this before.

They waited.

—The biggest regret of my life is that I wasn’t born black.

—Is tha’ righ’, Joey?

—Charlie Parker was born black. A beautiful, shiny, bluey sort of black. ——And he could play. He could play alright. But he abused it, he spat on it. He turned his back on his people so he could entertain hip honky brats and intellectuals. ——Jazz! It’s decadent. ——The Russians were right. They banned it.

Joey The Lips was calmer now. He stopped picking at his sleeve.

—The Bird! he spat. ——And that’s what poor Dean is listening to.

—Sounds bad alrigh’.

Oh, it’s bad. ——Very bad. Parker, John Coltrane ——Herbie Hancock ———and the biggest motherfucker of them all, Miles Davis.

  ————Em, why does it worry you, exactly?

—We’re going to lose him.

—Wha’ d’yeh mean?

—Dean is going to become a Jazz Purist.

The words almost made Joey The Lips retch.

—He won’t want to play for the people any more. Dean has soul but he’s going to kill it if he listens to jazz. Jazz is for the mind.

—Wha’ can we do? said Jimmy.

—We can give him a few digs, said Mickah.

—Mickah.

—Wha’?

—The drums.

—Okay.

* * *

Hot Press came to the second gig of the residency, and paid in because Mickah wouldn’t believe him.

—I’m from the Hot Press.

—I’m from the kitchen press, said Mickah. —It’s two quid or fuck off.

Mickah took in one hundred and twenty pounds. It made a great bulge in his shirt pocket. He showed it to James.

—The big time, wha’.

Jimmy studied Dean for tell-tale signs. There weren’t many, but they were there. Dean hunched over the sax now, protecting it. He used to throw it up and out and pull himself back, to let everyone see its shininess. It wouldn’t be long before he’d be sitting on a stool when he was playing. The stool definitely wasn’t soul furniture. Jimmy was upset. He liked Dean.

Deco was his usual self. It was a pity his voice was so good. Jimmy didn’t pay much attention to Billy.

This was a pity. Because Billy left The Commitments, just before the encore.

—On yeh go, Bill, said Jimmy.

—I can’t, said Billy.

—Why not?

—I’ve left.

A long gap, then —Wha’?

—I’ve left. I’m not goin’ back on. ——I’ve left.

—Jaysis! said Jimmy.

When a Man Loves a Woman didn’t need drums.

—James, Jimmy roared. —Fire away.

—Now, said Jimmy. —Tell your Uncle Jimmy all abou’ it.

—I just——

Jimmy could see Billy thinking.

—It’s just ——I hate him, Jimmy. I fuckin’ hate him ——I can’t even sleep at nigh’.

Billy’s face was clenched.

—Why’s tha’?

—I stay awake tryin’ to think o’ better ways to hate him. ——Imaginin’, yeh know, ways to kill him.

Billy looked straight at Jimmy.

—I phoned his house yesterday. Can yeh believe tha’? I never done ann’thin like tha’ before. No way. His oul’ one —I s’pose it was his oul’ one annyway ——answered. I said nothin’. ——I just listened.

—Yeh’d want to get a grip on yourself, son. You’re talkin’ like a fuckin’ spacer.

—I know, I fuckin’ know. Do yeh not think I know? ———That’s why I’ve left. I never want to have to look at the cunt again. ——Want to get him ou’ o’ me life, know wha’ I mean?——I made up me mind durin’ I Thank You. The way he was shovin’ his arse into your women at the front. It was fuckin’ disgustin’. ——Annyway I’ve left, so ———I’ve left.

—He’s not worth hatin’.

—He fuckin’ is, yeh know.

Jimmy looked at Billy. He’d left alright. There was no point trying to talk him back in. That made Jimmy angry.

—Annyone can play the drums, Billy. ——So fuck off.

—Ah, Jimmy!

—Go an’ shite.

—I want me drums.

—After the gig.

—It’s my van, remember.

—We’ll hire a van. No, we’ll buy one. A better one than your scabby van.

Jimmy was going over to the platform but he turned back to Billy.

—A light blue one with The Commitments written on the side in dark blue. An’ Billy The Animal Mooney Is A Bollox on the back, righ’.

Billy said nothing.

When a Man Loves a Woman was over. They were going to do Knock on Wood now.

Jimmy got a drum stick and stood behind a snare drum.

The others watched.

—Righ’, said Jimmy. —Are yis righ’?

—BLAM —

—Come on.

—BLAM —

—James, come on.

—BLAM —

By the end of Knock on Wood Jimmy thought he’d proved his point: anyone could play the drums.

It had been a great gig, Hot Press told Jimmy. Dublin
needed something like The Commitments, to get U2 out of its system. He’d be doing a review for the next issue. Then he asked for his two pounds back.

* * *

The Commitments didn’t see Billy again. He didn’t live in Barrytown.

Mickah called for Jimmy on Friday. There was a rehearsal in Joey The Lips’ mother’s garage. When they got to the bus stop Mickah spoke.

—Jimmy, have I ever asked yeh for annythin’?

—Yeah.

Mickah hadn’t banked on that answer.

—When?

—Yeh asked me for a lend o’ me red biro in school. To rule a margin because E. T. said as far as he was concerned your homework wasn’t done till it had a margin.

—Jimmy, said Mickah. —I’m bein’ serious. Now will yeh treat me with a little respect, okay. Now have I ever asked yeh for annythin’?

—No.

—That’s better. ——Well, I’m goin’ to ask yeh for some-thin’ now.

—I’ve no money.

—Jimmy, said Mickah. —I’m tryin’ me best. But I’m goin’ to have to hit yeh.

He was leaning into Jimmy.

—Wha’ is it? said Jimmy.

—Let me play the drums.

—I was goin’——

—Let me play the drums.

—Fair enough.

* * *

So Mickah was the new drummer. He even had a name for himself.

—Eh, Washin’ton D. C. Wallace.

The Commitments laughed. It was good.

—The D. C. stands for Dead Cool, said Mickah.

—Oh yeah, said Imelda. —That’s very clever, tha’ is.

They were waiting for Dean and James.

Joey The Lips spoke. —We have lost The Animal, Brothers and Sisters. We’ll miss him. But we have a good man in his place, a city of a man. Washington D. C.

Jimmy took over.

—We’ve had our first crisis, righ’, but we’re over it. We’re still The Commitments. An’ we’re reachin’ our audience. Yeh saw tha’ yourselves on Wednesday.

Jimmy let them remember Wednesday for a bit. It had been a good night.

—We’ll dedicate our first album to Billy.

—We will in our holes, said Outspan.

—Ahh ——why not? said Bernie.

—We’d have to pay him.

—Would we?

—Fuck him so.

Joey The Lips went into the house to answer the phone.

Dean arrived while Joey The Lips was gone. He’d had his hair cropped.

—Jaysis, Dean, wha’.

He was wearing his shades.

—Dean, your shirt’s gorgeous.

—Thanks.

Joey The Lips came back.

Brother James on the telephone, Brothers. He can’t make it. He has a mother of an examination. ———Tomorrow.

Joey The Lips had just seen Dean.

—Is the wattage of the bulb too strong for you, Dean? Outspan and Derek laughed.

—It’s the flowers on his shirt he’s protectin’ his eyes from, said Deco.

—Leave him alone. It’s lovely.

Jimmy clapped his hands.

—Let’s get goin’. ——Come on. We’ll keep it short.

—Yeah, said Bernie. —Rehearsals are borin’.

—We need some fresh tunes, said Joey The Lips.

He patted Bernie’s shoulder.

—Let’s break Mickah in first, said Jimmy.

—That’s Washin’ton D. C. durin’ office hours, said Mickah.

He was behind the drum. There was only the one.

—Can we call yeh Washah for short? said Outspan.

—Yeh can, said Mickah, —but you’ll get a hidin’ for yourself.

—Washin’ton D. C., said Derek. —That’s a deadly name, Mickah.

Mickah smacked the drum.

—Nothin’ to it.

He smacked it again.

—That’s fuckin’ grand. ———Child’s play.

—Try it with both sticks.

He did.

—There. ——How was tha’?

—Grand.

—Can we go home now? said Mickah.

Mickah was a good addition. The Commitments liked him and his enthusiasm came at the right time. They enjoyed his mistakes and his questions. They rehearsed again on Monday night. They wanted Mickah ready for Wednesday.

Mickah took the drum home with him. His da, the only harder man than Mickah in Barrytown, burned the sticks. His ma bought him a new set.

* * *

The Commitments were a revitalized outfit on the third Wednesday of the residency. They all arrived on time. The Commitmentettes had new tights, with little black butterflies behind the ankles. Mickah wore Jimmy’s suit. James had a bottle of Mister Sheen. He polished the piano.

—More elbow grease there, said Outspan.

Jimmy took in the money at the door, one hundred and forty-six pounds. That meant thirteen more people than the
week before. And that didn’t include Hot Press and the three others with him he’d let in for nothing.

The Commitments played well.

Outspan and Derek had become very confident. The Commitmentettes were brilliant. They looked great, very glossy, and their sense of humour showed in their stage movements.

They were enjoying themselves.

Mickah tapped and thumped happily on the drum, sometimes using his fingers or his fist, once his forehead. His shoulders jumped as he drummed, way up over his ears.

One thing spoiled Jimmy’s enjoyment: Dean’s solo in Stop in the Name of Love. The Commitmentettes were at their best. They raised their right hands every time they sang STOP. Then they’d spin quickly before they continued with IN THE NAME OF LOVE. Mickah kept his eyes on them and his timing and their timing were perfect.

Dean’s solo was good. It was really good, but it was new. It wasn’t the one he’d always done.

Joey The Lips explained what was wrong with it later.

—Soul solos have corners. They fit into the thump-thump-thump-thump. The solo is part of the song. Are you with me?

—No.

—Strictly speaking, Brother, soul solos aren’t really solos at all.

—Ah, Jaysis, Joey——

—Shhh ———There are no gaps in soul. If it doesn’t fit it isn’t used. Soul is community. As Little Richard says, If It Don’t Fit Don’t Force It. Do you understand now?

—Sort of.

—Dean’s solo didn’t have corners. It didn’t fit. It spiralled. It wasn’t part of the song. ——It wasn’t part of anything. It was a real solo. Washington D. C.’s drumming wasn’t there as far as it was concerned. ——That’s jazz, Brother. That’s what jazz does. It makes the man selfish. He doesn’t give a fuck about his Brothers. That’s what jazz is doing to Dean, said Joey The Lips. —Poor Dean.

The Commitments finished with It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World. Mickah stood back. James gave the beat out here.

—DOOM — DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH —
DOOM — DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH —

Deco sang: —THIS IS A MAN — AN’S WORLD——

The Commitmentettes shook their heads.

—DOOM — DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH —
DOOM — DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH —

—THIS IS A MA — AN’S WORLD ———

The girls shook their heads again. Some men in the audience cheered.

—BUT IT WOULDN’T BE NOTHIN’ —
NOTHIN’ ———

WITHOU’ ——
A WOMAN OR A GURL ——

The Commitmentettes nodded. They turned to look at Deco. He was facing them.

—YEH KNOW ——
MAN MADE THE CAR —
THA’ TAKES US ONTO THE RO — OAD——
MAN MADE THE TRAY — AY — YAIN —
TO CARRY THE HEAVY LOAD——

—DOOM — DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH —
DOOM ——DAH DAH DAH DAH DAH——

The Commitmentettes turned their backs on Deco. He pleaded with them.

—MAN MADE THE ’LECTRIC LIGH’——

The girls looked over their shoulders at him.

—TO TAKE US OU’ O’ THE DA — HARK ——
MAN MADE THE BOAT FOR THE WAT — HAH——
LIKE NOAH MADE THE AH — ARK ———

Outspan plucked the guitar like a harp.

—COS IT’S A MAN’S —
MAN’S —
      MAN’S WORLD——

BUT IT WOULDN’T BE NOTHIN’ —
NOTHIN’——
WITHOU’ A WOMAN OR A GURREL——

The girls swayed and nodded. Mickah swayed and nodded.

—YEH SEE——

Deco was still singing to the girls.

—MAN DRIVES THE BUSES——
TO BRING US ROUN’ AN’ ABOU — OU’ ———
AN’ MAN WORKS IN GUINNESSES——
TO GIVE US THE PINTS O’ STOU — OUT

The crowd began to clap here. Deco raised his hands, and the clapping stopped.

—AN’ MAN —
MAN HAS ALL THE IMPORTANT JOBS——
LIKE HE COLLECTS ALL THE TAXES ———
BUT WOMAN —
WOMAN ONLY WORKS UP IN CADBURY’S —
PUTTIN’ CHOCOLATES INTO BOXES —
SO —
SO —
SO —
IT’S A MAN’S —MAN’S WORLD —
BUT IT WOULD BE NOTHIN’ —
NOTHIN’ —
FUCK ALL ———
WITHOU’ A WOMAN OR A GURREL——

This time they wouldn’t stop cheering and clapping, so It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World was over.

The Commitments were clearing the stage after closing time.

Derek spoke. —Tha’ Man’s World is a rapid song, isn’t it?

—Fuckin’ brilliant.

Deco took the bottle from his mouth.

—Yeah, he said. —I’m thinkin’ o’ doin’ it on Screen Test. ——Tha’ or When a Man Loves a Woman. They’re me best.