In The Pleasure Groove

Publié le par olivier

 

Titre : In The Pleasure Groove: Love, Death And Duran Duran

Auteur : John Taylor

Date de publication : 2012

Editeur : Little Brown & Sphere (UK) / Dutton (US)

Type : Essai

 

Après Andy Taylor en 2008, le bassiste John Taylor est le deuxième membre de Duran Duran à écrire ses mémoires.

In The Pleasure Groove

EXTRAIT

Introduction : Brighton - July 29, 1981

It’s a Monday night at the Brighton Dome, two weeks before our third single, Girls On Film, is due out. It’s a month after my twenty-first birthday. The lights go down and Tel Aviv strikes up. We have chosen the haunting, Middle Eastern–inspired instrumental track from our new album to function as a curtain-raiser, to let the audience know the show is about to begin.

But something strange is happening. None of us can hear the music. What is going on out there? The sound of an audience. Getting louder. Larger. Chanting. Screaming. And then, out onto the stage, behind the safety curtain we go. A frisson of fear. We look to each other with nervous glances. Faces are made. “Is that for real?”

We plug in; bass working, drums beating, keyboards and guitars in tune. Ready.

Tel Aviv reaches its coda. Here we go. And the curtain rises on our new life.

The power of our instruments, amplified and magnified by PA stacks that reach to the roof, is no match for the overwhelming force of teenage sexual energy that comes surging at us in unstoppable waves from the auditorium.

The power of it is palpable. I can feel it take control of my arms, my legs, my fingers, for the duration of the opening song. It is unrelenting, waves of it crashing onstage. There is no way we can be heard, but that doesn’t matter. No one is listening to us anyway. They have come to hear themselves. To be heard. And what they have to say is this: “Take me, ME! I am the one for you! John! Simon! Nick! Andy! Roger!”

As our first song grinds to a hiccupping halt, we turn to each other for support. But the next song has already somehow begun without us. We are not in control anymore. Seats are smashed. Clothes torn. Stretcher cases. Breakdowns. It is a scene out of Bosch. Every female teenager in Britain is having her own teenage crisis, simultaneously as one, right now, vaguely in time to our music. The frenzy is contagious. We are the catalyst for their explosions, one by one, by the thousands. We have become idols, icons. Subjects of worship.

In The Pleasure Groove

Lire aussi : Robert Palmer: An Appreciation écrit par John Taylor en 2000 

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