Split Sides

A Dose of Rushium (Chvrches Fanzine Competition Entry)

Dear Chvrches:

You cited the need to use your latest album 'Screen Violence' as an inspiration for whatever entries fans send you and I love the two songs you have publicized so far, 'He Said She Said' and 'How Not To Drown', especially the latter since I'm both a fan of yours and of The Cure. However, I took stock on everything happening around me both within my country and all over the globe and I found it full of doom and gloom and anger and sheer division. And while your music is perfect in reflecting the days of insanity and strife we all live in, sometimes it can be too much and we all need a break from it all. You guys might even need one right now.

Which is why I write my entry in a way most unexpected for you all. I wanna uplift your moods and make you smile or even laugh, and if I do all three then my entry has done its job. Despite the amateurism evident in this work, I want to pull you out of the general pessimism that shapes your music (and probably your lives) and help you find some humor and optimism. Who knows, maybe your next album can be a tad more optimistic than your current sound, hopefully inspired by this entry. I hope this entry reaches you and I hope it helps you guys however it can. Cheers.

"Oh, thank fuck we finished that music video, " I say as we drive away from the warehouse where we shot our latest music video from. "Honestly, I hope I never have to wear that horrible green coat ever again. What the hell were they thinking, giving me that awful coat that reeks of petroleum?"

"Dunno really, they said it looked good in the set and matches with the green filter," says Iain, arms crossed and struggling to see from the mist-covered windshield. "I asked one of the stagehands about it and he said they got it from some yard sale. Apparently it was in the basement of some Algerian general who recently died."

"Do they even have oil in Algeria?" Martin asks, turning on the windshield wipers to ease the constant assault of the rain on our car. He turns the steering wheel and drives us away from the industrial estate. "Last I checked, they had nuclear fallout from all the tests the French did there in the 50s."

"Are you suggesting I accidentally absorbed radiation?" I ask Iain, simultaneously frightened and angry at his inference. "And you didn't bother to warn me about it?!"

"I don't know if was true or not, so I couldn't say." He takes a sip from his silver tumbler and I have an urge to kick his seat.

"Just great, I might grow a third arm by next week. And why did my wig smell like detergent powder earlier?" I hated that tacky blonde wig I had to put on during the shoot. The director was being such a stubborn arse about it, saying I'm blending with the times wearing it. I wonder where he picked that disgusting thing from.

"Oh, that one. One of the technicians found it being eaten by some mangy street dog before the shoot." He takes out a pack of mints from his pocket and takes one in his mouth. "The director was livid, had to bribe the nearby laundromat to wash it and dry it shortly before we came." He turns to face me, eyes lit up with amusement. "Was it wet when you wore it?"

"Yes! It was the worst thing I ever wore in my life. First thing I did when the shoot finished was throw that fucking wig to his smug face. Then I told him how he could've graduated from film school with such terrible ideas. Nearly tore his self-satisfied face off." I lean back on my seat and put my hands to my face in shame, recalling how I had to be blocked by members of the crew before it grew to be a full-blown fistfight. "If I ever have to work with that arsehole again, I'll hang him from a construction crane!" I declare to the both of them, such is my fiery mood right now.

Thankfully, it only takes minutes for us to arrive home, saving me from further rants. Without a word I enter the house and drop myself on the blue velour sofa that smells of roast pork and Kewpie mayonnaise. It's an old present Martin got from his mother when we first bought this nice house from the money we made from our first album. Almost a decade later and this worn-out sofa is still with us. Unbelievable!