The Commitments (7 page)

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Authors: Roddy Doyle

BOOK: The Commitments
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For a few minutes The Commitments broke up.

But Jimmy snapped out of it. It happened when he went from the general to the particular. It wasn’t Imelda Joey The Lips had got off with. It was Natalie. He didn’t fancy Natalie. It was cool.

—It’s a free country, lads, said Jimmy.

—God though, said Derek.

—It’s not on, said Deco.

He hit the wall, not too hard.

Billy looked from one face to the next for some sign of hope.

—It’s like doin’ it with your fuckin’ da, he said.

—Wha’? said Dean. ——Nat’lie, like? ——Oh, now I get yeh. ——Yeah.

Outspan asked Dean a question.

—Tongues?

—O’ course.

—I’m goin’ to be sick.

—That’s fuckin’ cat, tha’ is, said Derek.

—Come on, lads, said Jimmy.

He slapped his hands together.

—Cop on, come on. ——Joey’s one o’ the lads.

—He’s a fuckin’ oul’ fella.

—He’s not like other oul’ fellas.

—He’s exactly like other oul’ fellas.

—Do other oul’ fellas play in groups? said Jimmy. —Did your oul’ fella play with The Beatles?

—My da’s got better taste than tha’.

Dean laughed.

—Look, said Jimmy. ——Look. ——He’s older than us, righ’. But he’s not married, remember. So he’s as entitled to move in on a bird as we are. ——An’ fair fucks to him.

He meant it.

—Jimmy’s righ’, men, said James. —It’s horrible, but true.

—It’s not ——fair though, sure it’s not?

—I suppose it’s not, said James.

—O’ course it’s fuckin’ fair, said Jimmy. —Look, righ’, you could’ve tried to click with her yourself. But yeh didn’t. An’ Joey did. So fair fucks to him.

——Still, though, said Derek.

Deco called across to the girls.

—Did he force yeh to? ——Cos if he did ——

The girls screamed laughing.

—Yeh stupid prick, yeh, said Natalie.

—Na’hlie got off with HIM, said Bernie.

They still laughed.

—Why? Outspan asked gently. ——Why, Nat’lie?

—Yeh fuckin’ slut! Deco roared.

They all turned on him. Jimmy pointed a finger at him.

—Take it easy.

James and Derek held Outspan back. Dean helped. Outspan stopped struggling. They let him go. Then Outspan jumped at Deco. They pulled him away. He let them. He’d made his point.

James had a psychology exam coming up in a few weeks.

—You moved in on Joey, Nat’lie? he asked.

—Yeah. ——I did.

The girls laughed again.

—Yis’re disgusted, aren’t yis? said Imelda. —She likes him, yis stupid fuckin’ saps.

—We all like him, said Outspan. —But we’re not queuein’ up to get off with him.

They all laughed. Outspan had to think back to see why, but then he grinned.

Natalie grinned.

—No.

She laughed.

—He’s nice though. ——He’s funny.

—An’ he’s done all those things, said Bernie.

—That’s it! said Deco. —Heh! that’s it. She’s a fuckin’ groupie.

—Well, wha’ did you ever do? said Bernie. —Besides wank yourself.

—Bernie! said Imelda.

—Well! ——said Bernie.

—She’s a bleedin’ groupie. Just cos he ——For fuck sake! ——That’s pathe’ic, tha’ is.

—You’d get off with Madonna, wouldn’t yeh? said Natalie. —Wouldn’t yeh? ——Fuckin’ sure yeh would.

—She’s not behind the garage door too, is she? said Billy.

—Or Joan Collins, said Imelda. —She’s fifty.

—Older, said Dean.

—I’d be into Joan in a big way meself, said Jimmy. —I must admit.

—Tina Turner’s a granny, said Natalie. —Yeh’d get off with her, wouldn’t yeh?

—Well, he got off with his own granny, said Billy.
—He might as well have a bash at Tina.

—An’ your woman tha’ reads the News, said Imelda. —Yeh’d get off with her just cos she reads the News.

—He’d try to get off with Bosco, said Outspan.

When Joey The Lips opened the door they were laughing.

—Soul food, said Joey The Lips.

They stopped laughing and looked awkward, and away from Joey The Lips.

——Good man, Joey, said Outspan. —I’m fuckin’ starvin’. I haven’t eaten ann’thin’ since me dinner.

Jimmy grabbed Deco’s arm.

—Not a word, righ’. Not a fuckin’ word, righ’?

Deco freed his arm.

——Righ’.

—You’re a randy little bollix all the same, aren’t yeh, Joey? said Billy.

They laughed through their shock and embarrassment.

—The soul man’s libido, Brother, Joey The Lips explained.

*   *   *

By now The Commitments had about a quarter of an hour’s worth of songs that they could struggle through without making too many mistakes. They could sound dreadful sometimes but not many of them knew this. They were happy.

Joey The Lips told them that they were ready for
the funkier uptempo numbers, the meaner stuff.

—Rapid!

He didn’t say it but Joey The Lips wanted to loosen up Dean, to get him swinging. Dean was the only one still suffering. He stood rigid and even though so far he’d only had three or four note changes at the most per song they usually came too quickly for him and they’d hear him saying Sorry yet again as the rest of them kept going.

A funkier number would force Dean into the open. It would do him good.

Deco was excited. This was where he’d come into his own. He was jumping up and down. He’d started wearing track-suit bottoms during rehearsals. He swallowed teaspoons of honey whenever he wasn’t needed for singing.

—Come on, come on, Deco shouted. —Let’s go.

—Wha’ ’re we doin’, Joey? Outspan asked.

Jimmy handed the lyrics to the girls and Deco.

—Knock on Wood.

—Deadly!

—I know this one, said Imelda.

—Not the disco version, said Jimmy.

—Aaah!

—No way, said Jimmy. —Use the butt-ends of your sticks for this one, Billy.

—Yes, sir.

They listened to the tape of Eddie Floyd.

—You and me together, Dean, said Joey The Lips. —Let’s show these dudes what a horn section does for a living.

—Jaysis, Joey, I don’t know.

Outspan got a chord and hit it.

—THI — THI —

—Is tha’ abou’ righ’, Joey? he asked.

—That’s about right. ——Now, Dean, make that baby squeal.

—How?

—We did this one together before.

Joey The Lips put the trumpet to his mouth.

—DUHHH ——

DU —

DUHHH ——

—Remember?

—Oh yeah.

—Good boy. ——Right. ——That’s a nipple you’ve got there.

—Wish it was.

—Ready?

—S’pose so.

—DUHHH ——

DU —

DUH — DEHHH ——

  DE —

          DEHHH —

—Good good, said Joey The Lips. —And that’s where Brother Deco comes in. ——Are we ready, cats?

They were ready.

—A one, a two.

Joey The Lips and Dean blew the intro again.

Billy joined in.

—THU — UNG UNG UNG — THU — UNG UNG UNG —

—I DON’T WANNA LOSE — HUH —

—Stop.

—Why ——What’s wrong?

—Brother Deco, said Joey The Lips. —Leave the Huhs till later on, okay. We don’t want to alienate our white audience.

—I DON’T WANNA LOSE —

Outspan: —THI — THI —

THIS GOOD THANG ——

Billy: — THU — UNG UNG UNG

THA’ I’VE GOT ——

IF I DO ——

—DUH DAA DOOHHH, blew Joey The Lips and Dean, very successfully.

—I WOULD SURELY ——

  SURELY LOSE THE LOT ——

Dean wiped his face.

—COS YOUR LOVE ——   —THI — THI —

  IS BET HA —   THU — UNG UNG UNG

  THAN ANNY LOVE I KNOW — OW —

The Commitmentettes joined in here.

—IT’S LIKE THUNDER —

—DUH UH UHHH, went the horns.

—LIGH’ —

NIN’ —

—DEH EH EHHH, went the horns.

—THE WAY YEH LOVE ME IS FRIGH’ NIN’ ——

  I’D BET HA KNOCK —

Billy: THU THU THU THU

—ON WOO — O — OOD —

    BAY —

BEEE ——

The horns: — DUHHH ——

  DU —

          DUH — DEHHH ——

DE

       DEHHH —

Dean didn’t sleep too well that night.

He’d got through his solo in Knock on Wood. When they were going through it the third time before going home Dean had arched his back and pointed the sax at the ceiling. He’d walloped his nose but it had been great. He couldn’t wait for the next rehearsal.

*   *   *

The Commitments were looser and meaner the next night, three days later.

—NOW I AIN’T SUPERSTITIOUS, Deco yelled.

—THI — UH THI, went Outspan’s guitar.

—ABOU’ YEH —

Billy: — THU — UNGA UNG UNG —

—BUT I CAN’T TAKE NO CHANCE ——

Outspan: — THIDDLE OTHI — UH THI —

—YOU’VE GOT ME SPINNIN’ —

  YOU BRASSER ——

  BABY ——

   I’M IN A TRANCE ——

The Commitmentettes lifted their arms and clicked their fingers while they waited to sing. Derek bent his knees as he bashed away at his string. Dean was wearing shades. James hit the keys now and again with his elbows. Joey The Lips approved and gave James a thumbs-up. Jimmy grinned and danced his shoulders.

—IT’S LIKE THUNDER —

The horns: — DUH UH UHHH —

—LIGH’ —

 NIN’ —

The horns: —DEH EH EHHH —

—IT’S VERY FUCKIN’ FRIGH’NIN’ ——

  I’D BET HA KNOCK

Billy: —THU THU THU THU

—ON WOO — O — OOD —

    BAY —

BEEEE ———

The Commitmentettes: — OOOOHH —

The horns: — DUHHH ——

DU —

DUH — DEHHH ——

      DE —

             DEHHH ——

*   *   *

A week later The Commitments were taking five.

Jimmy was talking to Joey The Lips.

—Have yeh been in any o’ the music pubs in town?

—No, said Joey The Lips. —Not my style.

—We prefer somewhere a bit more quieter, don’t we, Joey? said Natalie.

—Behind the garage door, like? said Jimmy.

—Fuck yourself, you.

Natalie went over to Imelda, Bernie and Derek.

Joey The Lips looked straight at Jimmy.

—Rescue me.

—Wha’?

—Rescue me. ——I am a man in need of rescue.

—What’re yeh on abou’?

Jimmy looked behind him.

—That woman is driving me fucking crazy, said Joey The Lips. —She won’t get off my case.

—I think that’s the first time I ever heard yeh say Fuckin’, Joey.

—She won’t leave me alone.

—Well, Jaysis now, Joey, yeh shouldn’t of gotten off with her then.

—I had no choice, Brother, Joey The Lips hissed.

—She had me pinned to the wall before I could get on my wheels.

—Wha’ abou’ tha’ soul man’s ludo yeh were on abou’?

——What’s the smell?

—Wha’ smell? ——Hang on.

—Weed, said Joey The Lips.

He looked around, frowning.

—It’s hash. ——Here, Jimmy shouted. —Who has the hash?

—Me, said Billy.

Deco, Outspan, Dean and James were with him, over at the piano.

—No way, Billy. ——No way.

—Wha’? said Billy.

The joint, a very amateur job, stopped on the way back to his mouth.

—Hash is out, said Jimmy.

—Why? said Deco.

He was next on it.

—It fucks up your head, said Jimmy.

—Jimmy, said James. —It’s been medically proven ——

—Fuck off a minute, James, sorry, said Jimmy. —Yis won’t be able to play.

—We’ll be able to play better, said Deco.

—It’ll wreck your voice.

That shut Deco up while he decided if it was true.

Billy took a long drag and held the joint out for any takers.

—BLOW THA’ OU’, BILLY, Jimmy roared.

Billy exhaled.

—I’d die if I didn’t, yeh fuckin’ eejit.

He still held the joint up in his fingers.

—What’s wrong with it? Outspan asked.

Jimmy was doing some thinking. What had annoyed him at first was the fact that they hadn’t got the go-ahead from him before they’d lit up. He needed a better reason than that.

—For one thing, he said. —Righ’ ——Yis’re barely able to play your instruments when yis have your heads on yis.

—Ah here!

—Are you sayin’ I can’t sing, son?

—Second, said Jimmy. ——We’re a soul group. Remember tha’. Not a pop group or a punk group, or a fuckin’ hippy group. ——We’re a soul group.

—Wha’ d’yeh mean, WE’RE? said Deco.

—Fuck up, you.

Jimmy was grateful for the interruption. It gave him more time to think of something.

—If you’re not happy with the way I’m doin’ things then ——

—We love yeh, Jimmy. Keep goin’.

—Righ’. ——Where was I? ——Yeah. ——We’re a soul group. We want to make a few bob but we
have our principles. It’s not just the money. It’s politics too, remember. We’re supposed to be bringin’ soul to Dublin. We can’t do tha’ an’ smoke hash at the same time.

—It’s oney hash.

—The tip o’ the fuckin’ iceberg, Billy. Dublin’s fucked up with drugs. Drugs aren’t soul.

—Wha’ abou’ drinkin’?

—That’s different, said Jimmy. —That’s okay. The workin’ class have always had their few scoops.

—Guinness is soul food, said Joey The Lips.

—That’s me arse, Jimmy, said Outspan.

—Listen, said Jimmy. —For fuck sake, we can’t say we’re playin’ the people’s music if we’re messin’ around with drugs. We should be against drugs. Anti drugs. Heroin an’ tha’.

—Yeah, but ——

—Look wha’ happened to Derek’s brother.

—Leave my brother ou’ o’ this, said Derek. He nearly shouted it.

—Okay, sorry. But yeh know wha’ I mean.

—Wha’ happened to Derek’s brother? Billy asked.

—Forget it.

—Wha’ happened your brother?

—Forget it, Billy.

—I was oney askin’.

—Annyway, said Jimmy. —Do yis agree with me?

—Ah yeah—— o’ course, oney ——

—We’ll get a Heroin Kills banner for behind the drums, said Jimmy.

—Hang on, said Deco. —Wha’ abou’ the niggers in America, the real soul fellas, wha’ abou’ them? They all smoke hash. ——Worse.

This was Joey The Lips’ field.

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