This rockstar life

3.18 Mixtape

"Um...so this is the...third go at recording this thing. I couldn't think of anything to say. So I'm just going to play a few things, and maybe read something. You said... you said you wanted my voice so..."

I had, and just thirty seconds in, even through these crappy headphones, my eyes are already welling up at the sound of that familiar soft accent. I'd promised myself I would save it for as long as possible, until I really, really missed him. I lasted all of... thirty-five hours and seventeen minutes. Pathetic. It's not like we've never been apart before, he's always coming and going, but maybe it's worse because I know I won't see him for three weeks this time ('No girls at rehearsals'). Of course there's phones, but we suck at timing and end up just with snatched minutes as he's dashing off to a photoshoot, or messages left on the answerphone at 2am.

"Anyway... I think you'll recognise this one from the album."

I do recognise it, but it takes a few bars because I don't think I've heard it on an acoustic before. It's a little Zeppelin-ish done that way. It's a real power ballad on the record, but I think I prefer it this way. It's funny, I hear Steve playing all the time, but very rarely a whole song; usually it's just the same bit over and over while he's trying to work something out, or a screeching Jimmy Page solo to blow off steam! He doesn't practise as such, I don't think he needs to. Music runs through him all the time and he just picks up a guitar when he needs to let it out into the world.

"This next one is one of Sav's... I dunno what we're doing with it. We did the demo but... too many ballads I guess. But it goes sort of like this."

Partway through he breaks off - "There's a solo... my solo... goes here. But I don't think I can do it on this, so you'll have to imagine." There are some scraping noises which I guess is him fiddling with the microphone, then all I hear for a minute or so is breathing.

"I didn't know what to talk about - you know me, not much of a ra-con-teuuur - so I thought I could read you something instead. So this is what I'm reading... trying to read. The Odyssey. It's about this Greek king who fought in the Trojan war and then has all these adventures trying to get back home. It takes him ten years, and I think it might take me as long to read it, heh-heh."

When he starts to read, his voice is whispery, hesitating over the Greek names and longer words, but he gets a little bolder as he gets into the rhythm of the story. If you're a boy and you grow up on a Sheffield housing estate and go to the local comp*, reading is not exactly encouraged. At all, let alone classical myths. He has read a lot since then, in a rather scattergun, autodidactic fashion, but he's not exactly had the chance to engage in literary debate, so he's always afraid he'll be mocked for misunderstandings or mispronunciation. But I love listening to him talk, about books, about anything. Sometimes I make him tell me stories when I can't sleep, lying with my head on his chest hearing his heartbeat in one ear and tales of childhood escapades in the other. Oh god, this is not helping! I miss him more than ever now. I pull the pillow from his side of the bed and hug it to my chest, hoping the lingering hint of his smell and the even cadence of his recitation will soothe the loneliness.

More microphone fumbling noises rouse my mind from its dreamy state. There is some mumbling, 'how much tape...? Okay, let's give this a go', and then strumming. Now this I recognise instantly; it's my favourite Zeppelin song. That is so sweet of him. He starts to hum the verse and then, so low and quiet I almost miss it, 'someone told me there's a girl out there...'. Oh. Did I really...? Quickly I press rewind and spool back a few seconds. Steve doesn't sing. Ever. He says he can't. He mimes on stage. He doesn't even sing in the shower. But that... that is most definitely Steve singing. Just a few lines, then he la-la-las the rest. I replay it three more times, then get scared I'm going to stretch the tape or something. I'm so... it's like I've been given a precious jewel, just for me. Oh my heart.

"G'night love. I'll see you very soon." and then the click of the recorder being switched off.

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* Comp = comprehensive school. Standard type of school for kids aged 11 - 18 in the UK

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So that was the final chapter of part 3. Part 4 - Lepps on tour - coming... sometime!