I didn't like Aaron the first time I saw him. Fair and a little pudgy from his baby-fat, he looked like some Eurasian hoity-toity asshole. He used to live at Braddell Heights and we shared the same bus home. With his PE T-shirt folded like a chee-cheong-fun and hanging out three-quarters from his school haversack, he used to give me arrogant looks on the bus.
Similarly, I must look like an asshole to him. Strangely huge for my age, my red volcanic pimples 3-D-ing my face more than I like and long white strands of hair must have given him an absolute ah beng impression.
We stared at each other aggressively for a whole year on the bus until we found ourselves in the same class in secondary 2.
Joshua ended up in our class as well. Josh is, up until today, the most technically talented guitarist I know in person. According to legend, Josh's dad is an accomplished pianist who beat him if he failed to perfect-pitch and his brother David was a real pub musician, the kind that had like 4 instruments around him and switched around as the medley develops. Josh was also very passionate, having locked himself in his room to practice sweep-picking until he could do it. And he ended up being able to do it. At 14. I still can't do it.
It was the time of Nirvana. Kurt Cobain, Kris Novoselic and Dave Grohl. The time of 3-piece.
Drawn together by our love of music and hatred of stupid school rules, we decided to form a band. Josh was, of course, our lead guitarist. Aaron was initially on rhythm and I, having had the benefit of real lessons, stayed on percussion. James, a weird sort who loved rollerbalding played bass for us.
We soon found our allowances short. Aside from jammming and cigarettes, we were buying $30 Screeching Weasel and The Queers import CDs from Tower Records. It got so bad that we often left home to meet and hang out at Far East Plaza with less than $3 in our wallets.
We shared a bowl of mee-pok at times (found on the coffeeshop-like space on the second floor of Far East - at that time) and poured the soup into the bowl to soak up the taste and drink it, so as not to waste. We even hung around the Burger King at Peninsula Plaza (across the underpass) until someone vacated with leftover fries on the tray. Then we would quickly go sit there and eat the fries - pretending that we bought it.
We had a great idea! We were going to stage a concert to raise funds! Our band didn't really have a name at that time so we called ourselves 'lemowreck', the name of a real song played by someone else. We printed and cut 'concert tickets' for $1 each on A4 paper. The concert will be held in the jamming studio and anyone who had tickets could come in and watch us play. Not that we had original compositions at that time, but well, you could come in and hear Nirvana slaughtered - Live! Guess what, some girls actually bought them!
We used to jam at Ah Boon's, a jamming studio in Potong Pasir outside our school. it costs some $14/hr, give and take a dollar depending on room size. Today, it is a flat piece of land behind the opening of Potong Pair MRT station and I hear that Ah Boon himself is doing very well.
Ah Boon used to barge in while we were playing Nirvana and cut the master power switch, saying that we were too loud, too loud. He used to accuse us of banging so hard on his drums that he had to change the skins way too often. Yeah, like once in 3 years. Something must have possessed him to let his wife mind the shop while she was pregnant and we had endless speculations on the kinds of deformities foestuses acquire from exposure to loud punk/grunge music.
Angela and Olivia came to our 'concert'. Angela was Aaron's acquaintance from guitar lessons at Plaza Singapura and she brought Olivia along for the ride. Olivia is pretty but thats another story. What I remember is that Angela passed away in the UK from some rare infection. Aaron and I attended her funeral and we were disgusted to find her then-boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend) laughing around the funeral. Angela had sent me little cards and things like that ever since we met. If she held a torch, well, thats not the way to let a teenage guy know.
By and by, we found James' perfoemance lacking. We were getting better at what we do whilst he was still trying to pluck the bass with one finger and barely keeping time. We kicked him out.
We became a 3 piece and in one experimental session, Aaron and I decided to trade places. I slung the bass across my neck and Aaron, having taught himslef percussion, took the drums. It was liberation to be able to sing the songs and Aaron liked hitting stuff to time - so we stayed that way, all the way.
Similarly, I must look like an asshole to him. Strangely huge for my age, my red volcanic pimples 3-D-ing my face more than I like and long white strands of hair must have given him an absolute ah beng impression.
We stared at each other aggressively for a whole year on the bus until we found ourselves in the same class in secondary 2.
Joshua ended up in our class as well. Josh is, up until today, the most technically talented guitarist I know in person. According to legend, Josh's dad is an accomplished pianist who beat him if he failed to perfect-pitch and his brother David was a real pub musician, the kind that had like 4 instruments around him and switched around as the medley develops. Josh was also very passionate, having locked himself in his room to practice sweep-picking until he could do it. And he ended up being able to do it. At 14. I still can't do it.
It was the time of Nirvana. Kurt Cobain, Kris Novoselic and Dave Grohl. The time of 3-piece.
Drawn together by our love of music and hatred of stupid school rules, we decided to form a band. Josh was, of course, our lead guitarist. Aaron was initially on rhythm and I, having had the benefit of real lessons, stayed on percussion. James, a weird sort who loved rollerbalding played bass for us.
We soon found our allowances short. Aside from jammming and cigarettes, we were buying $30 Screeching Weasel and The Queers import CDs from Tower Records. It got so bad that we often left home to meet and hang out at Far East Plaza with less than $3 in our wallets.
We shared a bowl of mee-pok at times (found on the coffeeshop-like space on the second floor of Far East - at that time) and poured the soup into the bowl to soak up the taste and drink it, so as not to waste. We even hung around the Burger King at Peninsula Plaza (across the underpass) until someone vacated with leftover fries on the tray. Then we would quickly go sit there and eat the fries - pretending that we bought it.
We had a great idea! We were going to stage a concert to raise funds! Our band didn't really have a name at that time so we called ourselves 'lemowreck', the name of a real song played by someone else. We printed and cut 'concert tickets' for $1 each on A4 paper. The concert will be held in the jamming studio and anyone who had tickets could come in and watch us play. Not that we had original compositions at that time, but well, you could come in and hear Nirvana slaughtered - Live! Guess what, some girls actually bought them!
We used to jam at Ah Boon's, a jamming studio in Potong Pasir outside our school. it costs some $14/hr, give and take a dollar depending on room size. Today, it is a flat piece of land behind the opening of Potong Pair MRT station and I hear that Ah Boon himself is doing very well.
Ah Boon used to barge in while we were playing Nirvana and cut the master power switch, saying that we were too loud, too loud. He used to accuse us of banging so hard on his drums that he had to change the skins way too often. Yeah, like once in 3 years. Something must have possessed him to let his wife mind the shop while she was pregnant and we had endless speculations on the kinds of deformities foestuses acquire from exposure to loud punk/grunge music.
Angela and Olivia came to our 'concert'. Angela was Aaron's acquaintance from guitar lessons at Plaza Singapura and she brought Olivia along for the ride. Olivia is pretty but thats another story. What I remember is that Angela passed away in the UK from some rare infection. Aaron and I attended her funeral and we were disgusted to find her then-boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend) laughing around the funeral. Angela had sent me little cards and things like that ever since we met. If she held a torch, well, thats not the way to let a teenage guy know.
By and by, we found James' perfoemance lacking. We were getting better at what we do whilst he was still trying to pluck the bass with one finger and barely keeping time. We kicked him out.
We became a 3 piece and in one experimental session, Aaron and I decided to trade places. I slung the bass across my neck and Aaron, having taught himslef percussion, took the drums. It was liberation to be able to sing the songs and Aaron liked hitting stuff to time - so we stayed that way, all the way.
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