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March
Hello,
Marlow here.
Can’t fucking think in here at the moment, the ponces must
have finally realised they aren’t very good and are spending
an unprecedented amount of time practicing, which is good in one
respect cos it means the radiator I am chained to comes on. Dean
tried to disconnect it out of sheer spite the other day but
fortunately for me his knowledge of plumbing is roughly on a par
with his drumming.
Anyway, no messing about, straight into this months ‘Ask
Marlow’
Dear
Marlow
"I have
seen Bravado on several occasions and am amazed at the accuracy
with which they perform what must be extremely difficult
arrangements. I can only assume that they must be really
dedicated to what they believe in and put in countless hours to
perfect what contributes to a great night out for us Rush fans,
what are they like in real life?"
P.D
Lincoln
Marlow
Says - Fucking vile.
Dear
Marlow
"I know this might sound strange but from reading your
column over the last few months, I feel that I have really got to
know you and have in fact fallen head over heels in love with
you, I think we could make a go of it and be really happy
together if you would just give me a chance. I am quite
attractive for my age and enjoy walking, eating out, going to the
cinema etc. Please reply."
R.L Chapel en le Frith
Marlow Says - Look Reg, this has got to stop, you are
not attractive, even for your age. You are bald, fat as fuck and
probably smell. Please stop sending me pictures of yourself naked
as I find it hard enough to sleep as it is.
Dear
Marlow
"PHILOSOPHERS AND PLOUGHMEN, EACH MUST KNOW HIS PART - TO
SOW A NEW MENTALITY CLOSER TO THE HEART"
N.P Toronto.
Marlow says - It is a well know fact that all
Philosophers are lazy, work shy twats who think that just because
they can string a few words together can be exempt from ever
having to do a proper job and contribute towards the economy of
whichever country is having to put up with their ‘I think,
therefore I am’ type rantings. "What the fuck does that
actually mean and does it get the bacon on the table?" is my
philosophy. Ploughmen on the other hand graft like fuck and for
what, shit money and a crap pub lunch named after them. But do
they complain? No. I am not at all comfortable with the concept
of throwing them in together on this mentality sowing project as,
let’s face it, the philosophers are just going to talk
bollocks and leave all the work to the ploughmen, who, although
without question will work till it’s dark if they have to,
are not exactly the sharpest tools in the box. No I think
you’ve dropped a huge bollock this time and this particular
project is a non-starter.
Right that’s another month of saving the world out of the way, back to the real business.
Big
Money
It wasn’t
just Neil who could get us into near fatal
scrapes either. Geddys’ choice of
associates has on several occasions almost brought a premature
end to the bands glittering career. Like the time in '82 on the
‘Signals’ tour.
The routing that year meant that we flew into Chicago with a
two-day break before headlining the Allstate Arena. Which gave Geddy
the perfect opportunity to catch up with a few of his old Mafia
pals. We spent the next two days in the company of one Tony
‘The Bullet’ Schillachi and a character known
as Johnny Bananas. I remember at the time
thinking ‘this is how life should be.’ We never paid
for a fucking thing and nowhere closed unless we said so. However
on the day of the gig I could sense an air of tension building.
It had started out great, we had all gone down to Arlington Park
for a day at the races with a constant stream of ball achingly
funny conversations like this.
GEDDY - “This Mr Chumley in
the 3.15 is an absolutely nailed on stone cold fucking cert,
it’s been placed twice in much better company and can’t
possibly get beaten today, I’m fucking lumping on big
time.”
ALEX - “I want 50p each way on the grey one. Hee hee look
Geddy that one in the paddock’s got a hard on.”
TONY - “I’m backing the second favourite in the first
race Johnny, arrange to have the favourite shot along with his
owner, trainer, jockey and the rest of his connections.”
JOHNNY - “I’m there already boss.”
NEIL - “I TURN MY BACK TO THE WIND AND CATCH MY BREATH
BEFORE I START OFF AGAIN - DRIVEN ON WITHOUT A MOMENT TO SPEND TO
PASS AN EVENING WITH A DRINK AND A FRIEND.”
GEDDY - “Fuck me, I’m off for a piss then down to the
bookies, laters.”
Tough
Times...
However it must
have been around five o clock when Tony pulled Geddy
to one side and informed him that they needed his assistance with
a little job. Apparently the ‘Family’ had loaned a
struggling businessman $500 to purchase a Hot Dog stand outside
the Sears Tower and as well as dragging his feet a bit with the
repayments, the bloke had, on three separate occasions,
complained about the 3000% interest rate.
Tony and Johnny had been
commissioned to go and administer a gentle prompter but
unfortunately Tony had hurt his hand the
previous night killing somebody who looked at him funny in McDonalds
and he was loathed to leave it to Johnny as he
invariably went too far. Tony was seeing a bird
for the first time that night and said he didn’t want to
spend an entire first date dismembering body parts in his
basement as he felt it would spoil the vibe. Besides, in an
attempt to keep intact his 100% record of getting the leg over on
the first night, he had already arranged to have his favourite
restaurant closed to the public for the evening and the Chicago
Philharmonic Orchestra were tuning up in there as we
speak.
The job was nothing outrageous, no shooters or anything and Geddy
knew he couldn’t really refuse because it was Tony
and Johnny who had flown up to L.A to do a
number on Rutseys’ kneecaps a few years
back and he was now, what was known in the trade as
‘temporarily indebted.’
The upshot was, with less than two hours to curtain up, we were
driving round a part of town which would have made Charles
Manson feel slightly apprehensive about winding the
window down, with two psychopaths looking for a fucking hotdog
vendor. We found him eventually outside an off license down
Lakeside and stood there looking at the floor, shuffling our feet
and feeling slightly uncomfortable while Geddy
knocked the crap out of him.
We must have been no more than thirty seconds from completion
when the squad car pulled up. I thought well that’s that
then, Alex was crying uncontrollably and Geddy
was frantically trying to wipe the blood from his knuckles whilst
keeping one hand firmly over Neil’s mouth.
Luckily we were in Chicago where all the coppers are bent and
they agreed to turn a blind eye for six autographs, two ‘Fly
By Night’ key rings and Geddy's tour
jacket.
I have never felt so fucking relieved to get away from anywhere
as I did at that particular moment. We climbed back into the car
with Hotdog boy promising faithfully not to do anything which
might further upset people who don’t respond well to being
upset and the two cops kicking the shit out of each other over
the tour jacket.
Anyway, it was by now rapidly approaching eight thirty and the
lads were due on stage at nine o'clock sharp. The mood in the car
was what I can only describe as not entirely appropriate for
karaoke.
After what seemed like nearly an eternity of silence on the
twenty-minute journey back to the arena, the ice was broken by
this conversation.
ALEX -
“I was a bit scared when you kept hitting that naughty man
Geddy. What’s a cocksucker?”
GEDDY - “Never mind lad, you looking forward to the
gig?”
ALEX - “Is there going to be a lot of people there
again?”
GEDDY - “Fucking loads.”
ALEX - “Ha ha!”
NEIL - “AN ILL WIND COMES ARISING ACROSS THE CITIES OF THE
PLAIN”
JOHNNY - “What the fuck’s he on about?”
GEDDY - “Erm, he’s just seen the weather forecast and
he’s a bit concerned about the flight down to Atlanta
(whispered) For fucks sake
Neil, shut up!”
TONY - “You done good there Geddy boy, kept a cool head. The
epitome of grace under pressure. (pause) Hmmm. 'Grace under
pressure', that would be a fantastic title for your next
album.”
GEDDY - “Yes it would, unfortunately we’ve already
settled for ‘A Weekend Break on Cygnus’.”
TONY - “I like ‘Grace Under Pressure’
better.”
GEDDY - “Yes but the artwork's already been done and the
first million sleeves printed.”
TONY (voice raising slightly) “I still like ‘Grace
Under Pressure’ better.”
GEDDY - “Fuck me, yes, alright then, it’s fucking
brilliant, ‘Grace Under Pressure’ it is then.”
TONY - “You’re a good boy Geddy and I am deeply
honoured by your gesture, it’s a great pity we don’t
see more of you round these parts no more, I could use a man like
you. Still I suppose that’s the way it was meant to be and
my personal loss is the gain of the music industry, Here’s
my address, have the royalties sent no later than Thursday”
GEDDY - “It isn’t even released until.”
TONY - “Thursday Geddy.”
GEDDY - “Alright, thanks for the lift - come on you lot,
show time, let’s fuck off.”
Next
month, Geddy’s life story, how Rush were formed and
Neil’s close encounter with a big scary Lion.
Don’t forget the ‘Free Marlow’ campaign.
Speak soon
Marlow
