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Phil [on recording Kid A]: “There was a lot of tension, personality issues. Things that we hadn’t really even gotten close to discussing in years.” Like what? “Let’s just say the shouting got louder.” Copenhagen, March 1999 Colin really needed to get away from this mess. He decided to get some fresh air and headed towards the door muttering a “... be back in a while”. He left his four bandmates alone in their awkward silence, staring at the empty space in front of them, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Jonny desperately wanted to follow his brother but knew it would be best to stay and try to sort things out ... again. Recording wasn’t going well at all and although their first day in Copenhagen went alright with first demo recordings of "Morning Bell" and "Dollars and Cents" everything inevitably took the same bad turn just like it did those last two weeks in Paris. Since their home studio in Batsford wasn’t finished yet, Nigel had suggested to start recording in Paris. They didn’t really get comfortable there, so they agreed on moving from France to Copenhagen, Denmark, hoping the change of settings might ease things down a bit. But as soon as they hit the studio, the tension was back again, with Phil or Ed getting pissed off of Thom who always stopped in the middle of something you couldn’t call a song yet, claiming it to be complete shite. The scene usually ended up with a row of ‘fuck you’s’ and Thom storming out of the studio once more. It felt like they were walking on the edge of the knife, insecure and vulnerable, only waiting to fall into five separate pieces. Colin breathed in the cold air as he stood outside the Medley Studios, wondering where to go. He hadn’t seen anything of the city yet, so he walked towards the centre, his mind clouded with heavy thoughts. Everything seemed to be going wrong this time and he was already worried about the bands future since the moment Thom told them that he had no new material and no idea of what to record at all on their first day in France. He was going on about having had a miserable New Years Eve and having hit a writers block when they first met at Oxford to get ready for Paris. Colin had secretly hoped that Thom’s mood would have been better after their winter break. ... wishful thinking ... “Seriously, I don’t feel like ever touching a fucking guitar again. All the time everything was just waiting to be written down and now there’s nothing left... it’s all gone. Silence.” Thom paused. “It’s kinda scary... ” he trailed off, avoiding Colins concerned look. “And Rachel left after our big row over Christmas”, he added in a lower voice. “Fuck, Thom, I’m sorry!” Colin said, placing his hand on Thom’s shoulder to comfort his friend. Things didn’t look good at all. “Yeah well, I guess there was nothing left to save,” Thom said, watching the cars passing by. --------------------------------- Their misfortune started with booking troubles with the Parisian hotel they were supposed to be staying at. Despite having booked twelve single rooms, they were provided with six doubles which only added to Thom’s frustration. They were travelling as a small group with only Bryce, Nigel, Chris, Plank and two of the girls from the managment. Jonny, Ed and Phil secretly thanked Colin for sharing the room with Thom, none of them really keen on putting up with one of his infamous tantrums. “It’s only for two weeks anyway”, Jonny tried to console his brother, who only thought about how to put Thom in a better mood. There was not much of talk between the band during these two weeks after Thom revealed that he had no new material at all. All he said was that he wanted to do something totally different from what they’ve done before, leaving them clueless on what exactly that would be. Nigel and Jonny tried to make something out of the snippets they had recorded on tour while Thom was drowning his worries in alcohol. “Come on Thom, you have to get out once in a while!” “Please, Coz... just leave me alone.” “I’m afraid, I won’t... we share this room.” Colin looked at Thom, who apperantly hadn’t moved from his bed all day. “What exactly is it you want? Getting drunk for two weeks? You could’ve told us if you’re not ready for recording yet.” “Yeah, I know....”. Thom just sat there on his bed, clinging onto his bottle, looking lost. Colin hated seeing him like this. In those moments he felt like he didn’t know his friend at all and was afraid of losing hold of him. He wished he could creep inside his troubled mind to work out what was wrong. He sat down next to Thom, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, thinking of something intelligent or uplifting to say. They remained like this for a while, wondering what the other one was thinking about. “You know I hate seeing you like this,” Colin finally broke the silence. “Mmh... I’m sorry for doing this to you, it’s just . ... [long pause] ... I can’t make any sense out of it anymore. There’s no inspiration, motivation, whatsoever.. It’s all gone.” “You need a new muse.” Colin tried to joke away the desperate air about Thom’s words. --------------------------------- Thom: "New Year's Eve '98 was one of the the lowest points of my life. I felt like I was going fucking crazy. Every time I picked up a guitar I just got the horrors. I would start writing a song, stop after 16 bars, hide it away in a drawer, look at it again, tear it up, destroy it... I was sinking down and down." [Thom’s POV] Paris, February 1999 I wish I could sleep through a whole night just once. Insomnia starts fucking with my head. And you’re sleeping over there like nothing could disturb your slumbers. I’m sorry about all this Cozzie, I feel bad for being the sad fuck-up I am. And driving you four mad with this too. I didn’t even tell you the whole story. I did not celebrate New Year’s Eve with Michael and this bunch of happy people. I got drunk all by myself. Rachel came to pick up the rest of her stuff in the morning and I spent the whole day afterwards with some bottles of Vodka in the dark, half-empty living room doing nothing but thinking. Thinking too fucking much... It’s not what you expect a millionaire rockstar to do on New Year’s Eve, is it? The piano was watching me all the time. Every other time I found myself in a mood like this, the guitar or the piano would save me. I could sit down, play a few notes, a tune to lift my spirits. This time it was different, I felt like I went numb or something. I tried to play some older stuff but everything sounded so shallow and wrong. I didn’t feel anything at all, which scared the shit out of me. I kicked the piano out of frustration and was taken aback by the sudden hate I felt. The teribble thought of losing the most precious thing I have, my love for music, the desire to create music, crept upon me. I tried to drown my fear in Vodka but it didn’t leave. It’s still there, eating me from the inside. --------------------------------- And so it became 1999. People hugging on TV. It’s just a fucking figure, why all the fuss?? It must’ve been about 1 am when I went out for a walk, already quite plastered. Walking through the neighbourhood, where the houses were still lit. I could see people playing games, friends celebrating, a mum bringing the kids to bed, a couple making out. I felt sick. All this had a bitter taste. Do these people really love each other or are they just too afraid of solitude? Rachel and I stopped loving each other a long time ago, we just didn’t want to face it. And she was the first one to realize that I fell in love with someone else. With you. Now I see your face, lit by the moonlight, your head resting beside the pillow, your hands positioned as if you were still holding the bass. I’m sorry for being the twisted way I am, Cozzie. If there is one person on earth who deserves a better friend, it’s you. Someone who is more caring about you instead of needing to be taken care of like me. Without you this hell of a tour last year would have been the end for us as a band. Without you I wouldn’t bother about recording and stuff anymore. Without you it just wouldn’t make any sense at all. I still want to do this album, if it’s only to make you happy. ... The clocks of the church nearby struck 4 am when he looked for a piece of paper and started scribbling down notes. --------------------------------- (back to Copenhagen, March 1999) Lost in thoughts, Colin passed the Tivoli, the Castle of Christiansborg and eventually arrived at the haven. The sun was shining but the wind was chill so he pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. He sat down on a bench close to the water and watched the people passing by, students engaged in vivid conversations, Copenhageners busy following their daily routine and tourists taking pictures of the beautiful waterfront with its tiny colourful houses and the boats right in front of them. He soaked up the sun and the smell of the sea. His mind wandered back again to his four bandmates who might still be standing in the studio, stuck with recording once again. Since they didn’t really seem to get along these days, Nigel had now decided to split them into groups - Ed and Phil worked on their parts together, Jonny spent most of his time composing string arrangements and Colin’s task obviously was to put Thom in a better mood. He was genuinely worried about his friend, who seemed to be going through yet another hard time, possibly even worse than while on tour. Not only Thom’s mood, but also their relationship seemed to have changed over winter break. Colin thought about how Thom was quieter than usual and spent a lot of time alone in his room. He wasn’t completely sure about it, but he even had the impression that Thom was avoiding him. A thought, which hurt him even more. He knew he had to talk openly about it to him, but at the same time he was scared that Thom might notice the nervousness and the uneasiness he couldn’t get rid of while being around his friend these days, if he hadn’t already. He found himself confused and angry about his own feelings, now that it became more and more difficult for him to hide them. His thoughts went back to that morning in Paris, when Thom came out of the bathroom dripping wet, dressed in a hotel-bathrobe which was much too long for him. “Careful, you’re going to stumble over your bathrobe!” “Fuuuck” was all Thom could manage to say before he fell to the floor. “Bloody hotel, they just don’t care about short people”, he complained and got up. He threw the robe into a corner and looked around for his briefs, perfectly aware of Colin watching him. And all of a sudden Colin felt that familiar stirring in his stomach again, the stirring he so desperately had tried to get rid of during winter break, the stirring he had felt so often while holding Thom during his bad moments on tour. The desire to do so much more to him than just hug him tightly and pat his back while breathing in the scent of his hair. He shook off the memory and made his way back to the hotel again. --------------------------------- A soft knock at the door and Colin entered Thom’s room. “Hi Coz.” “Hey. How are you feeling?” “Alright. What’s that you got there?” “Some records Jonny bought in Paris. What d’you think about some classical music?” “I don’t know...” Thom hadn’t listened to music properly since New Years Eve. He was scared of not being able to enjoy the music. Colin noticed the uneasiness in Thom’s eyes, he wondered what he felt so uncomfortable about. He took the vinyl out of the sleeve and placed it on the record player. “C’mon, let’s give it a try!” “Okay, but you have to stay here and listen with me!” There was the stirring again. “Sure, why not. Mind if I have a look at your minibar?” “Not at all.” Colin opened the bar which was almost empty. “Wow, you’ve been quite busy drinking, haven’t you?” He settled down next to Thom with a bottle of white wine. He felt the warmth of Thom’s body, snuggled in close to him. Thom closed his eyes to concentrate on the music. Colin couldn’t help but stare at his face, those long eyelashes, the unshaven cheeks, the full lips. He felt his pants becoming tighter and shifted uncomfortably. They sat in silence, letting the music fill the room. Colin’s thoughts drifted off again until he felt Thom slightly moving against his shoulder. He turned his head, not sure if Thom had really fallen asleep. “Thom?” He could feel him breathing against his arm. ‘I guess that was predictable after all his sleepless nights.’ He sat quiet for a while, enjoying the closeness and couldn’t resist the urge to caress Thom’s face. Tracing the tip of his thumb along these cheekbones just once. Twice. Thom stirred and opened his eyes, Colin’s heart skipped a beat. Thom smiled. “Thanks for the music, I think I might finally be able to sleep.” “Yeah, I better leave you alone then. See you in the morning!” With that said Colin got up from the bed, making his way towards the door. He wondered if it was just his vivid imagination or if Thom’s lips purposely brushed his cheek as he got up. Thom wanted to scream after Colin. He wanted to tell him his feelings so badly but he couldn’t swallow the lump in his throat. He tried to ignore how his body ached for Colin’s touch. He wished he didn’t have these feelings. Feelings which might destroy the most precious friendship he shared. Let alone the band. But he couldn`t get rid of them. He couldn’t help losing himself in daydreams about Colin, about them being together, touching, kissing, loving each other. The memory of his delicate scent, the faint feeling of his soft skin drove him insane. He couldn’t even listen to Colin’s voice anymore without getting desperate for his touch. Trapdoors everywhere. He knew he had to do something about it eventually, although he had no idea what. He got up, pacing around the room, thinking... The guitar was still laying in the corner, where he had put her when they first arrived. He looked at her, hesitating for a moment. No, he didn’t feel ready for this yet. He passed her and went out for a walk. --------------------------------- He spent two hours just walking, lost in thoughts, ignoring everything around him. He didn’t even notice how he got back to the hotel again, now cold and shaken up by the wind. He went straight to Colins room and knocked. No response. He left a note at the door, saying “Need to talk to you. Thom.” Later that evening Colin returned to his room. He went over to Thom’s room, feeling a little nervous. The door was ajar. He entered and saw Thom sitting on the ground with his back turned to him. Colin heard him playing the guitar for the first time since... he couldn’t actually remember when he had last seen Thom playing his guitar. He smiled, a warm feeling spreading through him. He wanted to run over and give Thom a big hug but remained silent until Thom felt he was being watched and turned around to see Coz standing there, smiling at him. “I wrote something. You wanna hear it?” “Sure!” “I wrote it in Paris when I couldn’t sleep.” Colin didn’t know Thom had started writing again. He felt relieved, almost happy. Thom started singing Gagging Order, insecure at first but soon he found his voice again, though his playing still a bit rusty from the lack of practice. “Move along, there’s nothing left to see. Just a body, nothing left to see...” Colin didn’t say a thing after he had finished and Thom was unsure what to make of his reaction. He hadn’t written anything for ages, but he thought it sounded ok. “Coz?” Colin stirred, overwhelmed by a mixture of love, longing and sadness. “That was absolutely beautiful. I’m so glad you’re back.” He knelt next to Thom and hugged him tightly. “Thanks to you my friend ...” Thom hesitated. “Did you know that when you sleep you’re holding your hands as if you were still playing bass?” Colin looked confused, slightly embarrassed. “Umm.. what?” “I love you Cozzie.” “Love you too, mate.” Colin said, voice a bit shaky, unable to look into the eyes that were searching his face. “No, you don’t understand...” Thom took Colin’s face in his hands, bringing it closer, forcing him to look into those eyes burning with love and desire. “C’mere.. “ He softly opened Colin’s mouth with his tongue, slowly slipping inside. Breath on breath, eyelashes fluttering. Colin let out a small sigh of surprise, as if he had just been released. Tongues interwining, hands carressing each other. Suddenly it felt so easy, now that they had arrived in a place where nothing mattered. FIN |