He nodded. “There’s just one thing, ah — the singer, my buddy Paul, well, I guess when I told him about your band he was kind of . . . well, he wasn’t too into the fact of there being a girl singer.”
I hesitated. “Well, he’ll see that I’m really good.”
Craig leaned against the locker next to mine. “Yeah, that’s what I said. I told him I’d heard you and that you were good. But, I mean, he just thinks that girls shouldn’t be in metal.”
“Hasn’t he heard of Gurgol?” I scoffed. “Marie-Lise?”
“Yeah, of course. But, you know, some people are like that,” he shrugged. “So maybe you guys can talk to him and work it out. I don’t really know what else to say. Paul’s a great guy, he’s just not into the idea of it. I’m sure he’ll change his mind.”
xXx
I was absolutely infuriated. This crap friend of Craig’s hadn’t even heard our band, was looking for a band to play with, but was going to be stupid about us just because of me singing? It would be one thing if he heard our music and didn’t like it, or if I sounded terrible. But I knew I didn’t sound bad, I knew we were a good band, and he was writing me off because he was an asshole. I didn’t want to play with a bunch of jerks, but at the same time a show sounded great. I didn’t like the concept of having to hope Craig’s friend would change his mind and decide to give my band a chance. I mean, who the fuck was Heathenistic Bile anyway? Was heathenistic even a word? A bunch of illiterate sexists writing us off because they don’t think girls can be in a heavy metal band? Ridiculous.
I called Fern that evening, fuming mad. “I mean, I don’t even want to play with a band like that!”
Fern was quiet for a few moments, thinking. “I don’t want to play with them either. But at the same time, wouldn’t it be so satisfying to prove them wrong?”
“No! I don’t want to prove anything to people like that.”
“Well, I do,” she said. “If they think you’re not going to be able to sing, and that I won’t be able to play guitar, they’re dead wrong. We’ll show them. And we’ll do it because we’re coming in pissed. They won’t know what hit them, and they’ll have to admit that they’re wrong.”
“But what if we aren’t any good? I don’t want to prove them right.”
Fern spoke sharply. “Rachel, if you don’t believe we are good, then why are we doing this at all?”
She was right. But I trooped on angrily anyway. “I just don’t see why we have to go into this having to prove ourselves. It’s bullshit.”
“Every band has to prove themselves,” she said. “Girl or guy singer. No matter what. Some bands fail and some succeed, and it’s based on proving how good, or bad, they are.” She sighed. “And let’s be real. There really aren’t many girls in this type of music. I have a feeling deep down inside me that if we move forward with the band, we’re going to see a lot of this type of attitude.”
I laughed. “Yeah. For a second I forgot that pretty much everyone on earth is an asshole.”
xXx
Craig brought me Heathenistic Bile’s demo CD the next day, and that weekend after rehearsal the four of us sat down to listen to it. The CD only had two tracks on it, both bad recordings, both songs okay. Nothing about their music sounded very original to us, but it was fine.
“At the very least, I think we should call this Paul guy and talk to him,” Edgar said. “It would be great to play live and try out the songs and see how it goes.”
I was hesitant. I didn’t want to play a show with jerks, but I could understand that playing a show was for the good of our band, even though I would have rejected it had it been my decision alone. We didn’t need Heathenistic Bile.
“I’ll call him,” Socks offered.