"I think it's time to bring this out," Ray says as he disappears into his coat closet, emerging with a mod-ish looking jacket patterned in two different sizes of black and white houndstooth, black leather patches on the shoulders and elbows, oversize shiny-metal-zippered pockets, and a wide shiny black vinyl belt that cinches the middle. He puts it on, along with a scarf on his head that, together with the jacket, makes him look like a cross between a Latino Little Steven and Austin Powers, or in other words: awesome.
As we continue to play through the night, the noise rises around us, until finally Ray's guitar howls distorted joy into the void over a dance beat that would have made New Order proud circa 1985, Gerry hammers a bass line into the ground, and I grind out a support system of power chords to help launch the whole thing into orbit.
We finish and begin packing up, listening to the playback, enjoying the sounds that we couldn't hear at the time of their creation: blissed-out, buzzed, pleased with ourselves, happy.
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