TITLE: Breaking Fellini
I stand in front of the adoring and drunk crowd of the Iron Crow. Everyone presses to the stage, abandoning the bar and tables, and tries to get as close to us as they can. I grip my Fender Stratocaster guitar and strum out the familiar chords to Three Dog Night's Joy to the World. The song is boring, just like the others in the set. I'm pretty sure I can play this in my sleep. I fake a smile and move across the stage. Sometimes I lean into Steph playing bass, pressing our sweaty T-shirts together and grinding our backs with the music (the guys in the audience love to see two girls in collision even if it is fake), or I shout out a few background lyrics into Todd's microphone; all in an effort to heighten the show, rile the people. The crowd can't get enough of our act, our performance. But do they love us for playing the song or for the song? If it's for the song then I can't help but feel phony.
I decide to test the waters. When Todd and Stephanie sing the chorus, I bend a few notes. The change to the song is subtle, but not enough to destroy recognition. Todd and Stephanie cringe at me, trying not to show their peeved expression to the crowd, and keep on singing. I sigh and go back to playing the song as people remember it.