Watch me Bleed

CHAPTER 1

If it's hard to say,

Won't you write it down on a piece of paper?

I'll read it if your hands are shaking.

Do you prefer to be alone in silence?

I'm happy sitting here next to you.

Tell me about the storm behind your eyes. 

I'll make it stop if you don't.

{Imerika - If you don't}

                                                                                     1983

It was nice to be home. After months on the road, isolated on buses and planes to fulfill the concert schedule, it was rewarding to have a few days to rest. The guys in the band Tears for Fears were exhausted and overwhelmed despite seeing work as a non-job, because they love what they do. No one is iron and one hour the human being will if he does not pay attention to himself. Manny, the drummer, stayed in the capital London on occasion of hitting the urge to go to some nightclub as usual. Ian Stanley, the keyboardist, returned to his hometown of High Wycombe, UK.

Curt, lead singer and bassist didn't think twice about returning to the place where he was born, grew up and made friendships he would carry forever: Bath, which by coincidence or the work of fate, as Roland used to claim in his internal banter, was where he really lived and grew up. Although his birth took place in Portsmorth and he also lived in Leigh Park, Hampshire, his early life with his parents and siblings cannot be said to have been showered with fond memories. Roland's parents' relationship was very tense and turbulent, to the point where he witnessed domestic violence several times. Other times, the house looked like a circus, due to his parents' work that involved entertainment.

It was a house where they offered advice and professionalized artists. His mother trained strippers and his father produced the performances. All kinds of people showed up to introduce themselves. From bodybuilder, bizarre clowns, magicians and musicians. Mostly musicians. It was from there that Roland was born the passion for this universe, to see what the incredible guitarists did on stage. Many were singers, songwriters mostly with a style similar to that of Johnny Cash or Elvis.

He also had a multi-harmony group that always left him delighted with what they were able to do with their voices. At the age of seven, Roland began writing songs when he realized while listening to the radio that songs generally follow a pattern. He understood how the structure worked. Verse, chorus, verse, chorus, verse, chorus, bridge, middle eight and final chorus.

Seeing those musicians on stage inspired him to be equal, to want to be a part of it. Roland felt that they were different from his father. They weren't scary, critical, and violent. They were just desperately trying to express themselves with their art and make a living from it. At the age of nine, the boy picked up the guitar so he could have a backdrop to write chords. Composing became a habit, but he didn't take it seriously until he was eighteen, when he signed his first record deal.

Curt had invited her to show up. Dinner with him and his mother on Saturday night like they used to do as teenagers when they first met. Roland said he would for sure, and then smiled before saying goodbye to everyone in the studio. That vibrated Curt's heart. It's just something he can't avoid, anyway.

As the bus with Curt passed through central Bath, the boy was immediately swept away by a sea of memories. Some painful, some precious. That's where it all started. Your story, your dreams and your greatest friendships. His tumultuous adolescence, love of music and early bands before Tears for Fears. It's as if nothing has changed, but pretty much everything has changed. That feeling of still being that boy disgusted with everything, who picked fights for very little. But no. It's just a false feeling. Curt grew up and learned to deal with his fears, his anger.