Chapter 6

The crowds were assembled in front of Terry like children waiting for the word of their teacher to be released to recess. It was a press conference he had called, with the mixed blessings of his band-mates and Frank. They requested something a little more low-key, perhaps a press release sent from the label, or perhaps an announcement made during a concert. Terry refused, claiming that since it was his idea and he was going to have to take the flak from this announcement, he should be left to do the dirty work on his own. He was going to announce the continuation of Accelerator without Charlie as a permanent change. The other guys knew it wasn’t dirty work to Terry – it was show-business.

“Hello everybody!” he announced, as if he were addressing a coliseum of fans. “Thank you for coming here today, to my press conference.” He grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewed its cap with great flair, and took a long sip. He loved to make his audience wait with baited breath, and this was a technique he had picked up through his years of crowd pleasing.

“Well, the reason why you’ve all been called to order is because there has been a change in the band’s make up. That is to say that the change you all have noticed – Charlie Clark’s absence – is going to be a permanent one.” Cameras flashed, people made various noises, cell phone buttons were dialed.

“I know very well that this news will come as a shock to our many, many fans out there. It’s shocking to all of us in the Accelerator family, I can assure you. However, with Charlie recovering from his unfortunate accident,” Terry made sure to stare into the nearest camera lens at this point in his speech, “it has been decided that the band should take on a different creative direction.” He surprised himself with the intelligent sounding voice he was able to muster up in this arena of news-people. Usually he had to mumble on about how he loved them, the crowds, and how they were the reason for his being there. But this, the speech, this was a new kind of bullshit; a smarter, wiser bullshit.

“I’ll take some questions, and then some photos, and that’ll be it for now.”

“Terry! Terry! Why drop Charlie?”

“Like I said before, it’s a new creative direction we’re going to try.”

“So you’re writing songs now without Charlie?”

“Yes,” Terry searched for the voice to this question. “We’ve got some things in the pipeline that we’re working on. It’ll still be great stuff, but without Charlie’s flavor, you could say.”

“Weren’t you and Charlie a songwriting duo, Terry?”

“Yes, you could say that. We’ve had some great success under our belts, but I feel confident that we can do fresher things without him, sad to say I know.”

“Terry – over here!” A hand popped up in the back row. “Terry, what does Charlie have to say about the band going on without him?”

“Well, it isn’t something that I personally have discussed with him.” More camera flashes as Terry adjusted his sunglasses. “He’s been talking to our manager, Frank. Frank Pepper.”

“Is Frank here to make a statement about the change?”

“No – I’m all you’ve got baby,” Terry said with a Cheshire’s grin. The crowd reacted as he knew they would, with giggles and guffaws.

“Mr. Friedlander, will you tell us what will happen with the current tour that Accelerator is on? Who’s singing now, and will the tour continue?”

“I am singing for the band now, with back up singers of course,” more laughter, “as I get used to this new role. But I’ve had plenty of singing experience, on our first album Hungry at Home, I provided the lead vocals on that song, one of the first singles to go gold for us. And later, the song I wrote, Confrontation, that was my voice you heard.”

“Yes, but Terry, we love Charlie; wouldn’t you say he was the face of Accelerator?”

“Who said that?” Terry asked, sounding slightly annoyed. “Well, whoever you are, if you think Accelerator was a one man band you are highly mistaken. And you will be proven wrong as you see us on tour, to continue with this gentleman’s previous question. We are staying on tour this year, to promote the album Angry Love.”

“With Charlie’s blessing, right Terry?”

The crowd was silent, Terry pausing to think of an answer to this question. Nothing sprang to his mind, until a camera flash went off in front of his face.

“Charlie Clark is no longer a part of this equation.” The room was still. “Charlie Clark is going to try to do his thing, I suppose, and we will continue to do ours.”

“Which is?” one voice emitted from the room.

“Which is to churn out hits and make people happy. Our fans love us, and we love them,” the old bullshit was starting to look more and more comfortable to Terry, as his spell was getting lost on this group. “Thank you,” Terry stood up from his seat and knocked the microphone down onto the table. Cameras continued to click and flash away as he left the room, reporters shouting more questions at him as he left.

He returned to his hotel room, and had planned before to come home to watch the news reports about his press conference. The experience, however, had left a sour taste in his mouth. Instead, he went to the mini bar and found a good helping of gin and pistachios to satisfy him. After a couple of drinks and some nuts, he slid out of the red leather pants and velvet sports coat he had donned for his appearance. He went to the bathroom mirror and washed the eye liner off, and scratched his scalp. He picked up the bathroom phone and requested a meal from room service – lobster and a Caesar salad, with a bottle of white wine. Then he placed a call to Frank.

“Frank, did you watch it?”

“Yeah man,” he said drolly, “it was about as good as I expected it to be.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Listen, I’ll come up and we can talk about it, ok?”

“Fine,” Terry said, and instantly hung up the phone.

Several minutes later and Frank knocked on Terry’s door. Terry checked the peephole, and let Frank in after identifying him.

“What, who’d you think it was, room service?” Frank asked.

“Actually, yes. Or a pissed off fanatic, you know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine what people are thinking. We’re demonized now, I’m sure.” Frank stepped into the room and plopped on Terry’s large bed. It was a king sized bed, draped in satin and damask silks, with a pillow for every body part assembled in perfect order at the head of the bed. Frank laid out sideways across the mattress, and struggled to pull of his boots.

“I don’t know why you wear those things,” Terry said, waving his hands at Frank’s footwear.

“What? These? They’re more comfortable than the leather chaps you so adore!”

“Why did I let you in here again?” Terry reached for the door handle, pretending to get ready to throw Frank out.

“That conference was a little less smooth than you thought it would be, I’m guessing?”
Terry sighed, and went to the foot of the bed. He sat down and faced the television set. “I didn’t even want to see the coverage of it afterwards.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, darling,” Frank rolled over to his stomach. “We’re just a blip on the radar screen I’m guessing. I don’t think anyone is going to give their left pinky to hear the latest with Accelerator.”

“How much do you want to bet?” Terry was offended at the suggestion that theirs was a washed-up band. With their latest album selling steadily since its release, and the single song from Angry Love, Voodoo Doll reaching the top of the charts, he knew things weren’t as bad as Frank wanted to portray them to be. “You’re just upset about Charlie still.” He leaned over to reach the remote control for the television.

“Terry, you’re goddamned right I’m upset about Charlie. This is like an amputation for me, and for everyone else. I must say, having been his partner for a good 20 years…”

“22 years,” Terry corrected him.

“Right, well, 22 then, you’re handling things very well.”

Terry flipped through the channels, trying to find a 24-hour news station. “You’re right, I am handling things very well, Frank. Because,” he kept clicking through channel after channel, “after 22 years you start to get a little tired of the attention being diverted from it’s proper target.”

“That’s you, right?” Frank rolled back over and grabbed one of the pillows, and started to punch it with his fist.

“Yup, that’s me. There!” Terry found a news station, and waited to hear their story. Immediately the news anchor announced “that an important development had been revealed with the hugely successful rock band Accelerator. Let’s go to our entertainment reporter Jim Sussex now.”

“Thanks Tina. Indeed, just minutes ago we heard Terry Friedland from the band Accelerator announce that the band would not only continue with their tour for their album Angry Love this summer without lead singer Charlie Clark, but that Charlie would be gone permanently from the band. Here’s a clip from today’s press conference with Terry:

“I am singing for the band now, with back up singers of course, as I get used to this new role. But I’ve had plenty of singing experience, on our first album Hungry at Home, I provided the lead vocals on that song, one of the first singles to go gold for us. And later, the song I wrote, Confrontation, that was my voice you heard.”
One press member asked Terry about Charlie’s role in the band, asking Terry if he agreed with the popular assessment that Charlie was the - quote – ‘face of Accelerator.’ This is what Terry had to say:

“If you think Accelerator was a one man band you are highly mistaken. And you will be proven wrong as you see us on tour...”

Well, I’m sure Terry is right; we will all be watching to see if Terry can fill in the void left by Charlie’s absence in a band he represented for the last two decades. We asked some people on the street what they thought of the announcement…”

“Oh, here we go,” said Frank.

“And this is what we heard:

“Charlie, no more Charlie? That sucks! I love Accelerator – I grew up with them. I don’t know if I can listen to songs like Linda’s Eyes with Terry’s voice. That’ll be – weird.”

“Well, to be honest with ya, Charlie was always the reason why I liked Accelerator. But, I’ll buy a ticket just to see what it’s like without him.”

“I’m going to cry! This isn’t the same band anymore! I bought tickets to see them play in Winchester City next month, but I don’t know if I could go without Charlie. I heard about his accident, and this just seems too sad, you know?”

Terry switched off the television. “Crap,” he said under his breath.

“I heard that,” said Frank. “Well, Terry, what did you think? You could just fill in for Charlie and poof make him disappear and no one would care about it? You’re gonna have to figure out how to make this tour work without him.”

“Wrong, Frankie baby – that’s the manager’s job. I went out there and gave them the bad news. Someone has to get the world to like it now. I’m gonna sing my ass off on stage, but you’re the one who has to draw in the crowds now.”

Frank sat up, and there was a knock at the door. He looked at Terry and said “See who it is first!”

“Feeling paranoid?” Terry smirked at him, though he did check the peephole to make sure that it was, indeed, his lobster and salad, and bottle of wine from room service.

“Stick around Frank, let’s have some food and drink. It’ll make you feel better about the weeks to come.”

“Yeah,” Frank resigned to this suggestion. “How many more dates do we have to go? Ten?”

Terry tipped the room service waiter, and bolted the door behind him. “Just get some radio stations to play our songs in high circulation now, which shouldn’t be too hard after the news spreads around, and we’ll do some ticket give-a-ways.” Terry grabbed on to the lobster’s tail and body, and with a swift twist separated the two segments from each other.

“Which do you prefer?” he offered the parts to Frank, “heads or tails?”

Frank reached for the bottle of wine, and said “Neither, I’ll stick to a liquid diet for today, thanks.”