Girls in the Band

Last year my husband was making our morning coffee when he turned away from the grinder and announced that he was going to recruit our 10 year old daughter’s friends into an all girl band. I asked the obvious question. “Why in the hell would you want to do that? I think Zoë might be the only one who plays an instrument.” “No – Kelly plays the violin and Lucy and Greta are both taking piano lessons too.” I think I either furrowed my brow or made a sarcastic face at him. “Ok, so first, it’s a little weird that you know that and second, four classical pianists and a violin player do not a band make.” He finished grinding and started brewing. “They can learn the other instruments and they could play a great song at assembly on the last day of school. I think it would be a wonderful bonding experience for all of them.” I reached for my mug. “I think they will enjoy it for a week then drop it like a rock but if you think it is a good idea, talk to the other parents and see what they think.” The parents thought it was a fantastic idea, as did the girls who immediately dubbed the band the Soho Six (we all live on Soho Drive). Two weeks later Ren had purchased a ridiculous number of used instruments (four electric guitars, a drum set, microphones with stands and an amplifier) and had signed the girls up for lessons at a local music school. At first, the girls were really excited about the prospect of learning to play “Vacation” by the Bangles on the last day of school. They burned it onto a CD and played it hundreds of times. They all jumped into the car on the day of their first lesson and came out of the music school delighted that they could all strum C, D and E on their electric guitars. The only band member who seemed a less than thrilled with the prospect of rocketing to pop star status was our drummer whose first lesson had been taught by a plump long haired hard core ex member of a 70s rock band who was extremely talented but somewhat impatient with beginners. They practiced every day, banging on the drums, playing C, D and E over and over again and screeching the Vacation lyrics. We took to wearing earplugs during their jam sessions. About a month into lessons, I walked into the garage during the first major band fight. Evidently there was a dispute over who should be the lead singer and who should play rhythm guitar. The result was a screaming match that revealed long held tensions (by long I mean they had been festering for more than a full week) and a desire to move away from 80s classics and forward to 90s pop. The fight also included a heated exchange relating to costumes which divided the band into the girls who wanted to dress like Britney and the girls who wanted to dress like Joni Mitchell. It got ugly and soon everyone headed home in tears. After the dust settled several band members came back to the garage and attempted to rekindle the band fire, but after two band members became vocal critics of the Soho (Four and Counting) it became apparent that the dream was dead. Last weekend I went down to the garage to put a bag of ice in the freezer and was a little sad to see the dust covered Hello Kitty electric guitars lined up against the band lockers (did I mention that Ren bought them lockers so they could store their music and eventually their fan mail). Ren walked in behind me carrying a case of Diet Coke and said “Don’t sweat it honey. The first band was just a test run. As soon as the girls are in school, we will get them going with guitar lesson and put together an all Solis band. We could be a modern day Partridge Family. Come on get happy . . .