King Midas

"Man, you're not digging down on the vibe," Levi said. "There's something missing. It's the vibe, you know? Can't you feel it?" Levi covered the head of the microphone and shook his head in exasperation. He did exasperation well with his rats' nest of naturally curly hair that he couldn't be bothered to brush or comb or style.

"Robbie, man, are you listening to me?" Levi said while snapping his fingers as if to bring him out of a trance.

"Dude, I don't know what 'digging down on the vibe' means. Like, I mean, what?" Robbie said. Robbie had received his first guitar when he was five. He never took a single guitar lesson, but he played music. All kinds of music. He couldn't read music, but he made beautiful sounds out of the series of guitars that lived on stands throughout his parents' house.

"Okay, man, I'm not sure how to explain it. You're going to have to close your eyes and listen to me doing the song. You're going to have to let the sound invade your soul, flood your brain, reach right into the space in your heart that makes you human and massage your essence," Levi answered. While he spoke his hands made the motion of someone stretching dough. As a teenager, Levi's mom took him with her to an Asian cooking class where they learned to stretch dough to make soba noodles. Levi found the process to be soothing, and had adopted the motions as a self-soothing technique.

Levi's mansplaining, dressed in poetry, irritated Robbie, also a man, who did not fully appreciate his bandmate's affected critique of his guitar playing. And then there were the hand motions—the self-soothing imaginary dough stretching came off as if Levi were elevated to some altered status. Levi was not a music deity. For Pete's sake. They played every other Saturday night at Hooch's Bar. They played covers and some original material, but they hadn't been discovered. The band was just Levi, Robbie, and their friend Angelo, who played drums. They traded off vocals because digging down on the vibe still hadn't materialized their sound. They were still looking for it. All three of them were passable singers, but what was magic for them was their harmony. They just didn't know it yet.

"Fine," Robbie acquiesced. "Hit me with it."

Levi switched back and forth between keyboards and bass guitar. He could play guitar, but not like Robbie. On this occasion, he picked up an acoustic leaning against the keyboards. He started picking a stripped-down version of Pearl Jam's "Jeremy." When he began singing, though, he gave it an Eagles vibe, a-"Seven Bridges Road"-type treatment. Angelo's ears perked up, and he threw in some harmony. Robbie couldn't help himself, joining in with the third part. The blend of the harmony and angst of the song took the piece to the stratosphere. Robbie had no idea if Levi's picking and strumming were digging down on the vibe, but whatever they were doing with restyling the song and their singing was digging down on some kind of vibe. It was magic, and all three of them knew it.

When they finished, Angelo said, "Dudes, I might have jizzed a little. Am I the only one who felt that?"

Robbie's hands flew to the top of his head only to jerk away in the gesture of an explosion. "Mind blown, man. Mind blown."

Levi set the guitar down gently, with reverence. What if the guitar had been the key to what had just happened? He ran into the house and came back out with his mom. The guys practiced in Levi's mom's garage during the summers they were home from college. There was a pool in the backyard that came in handy when they finished rehearsing. Levi's mom looked like she was in her thirties, but they all knew she was somewhere in her mid- to late-forties.

"Hey, Gretta," Robbie said and winked at her.

"Hi, Robbie, and it's still a 'no.' I'm not going on a date with you," she said, addressing the wink. "What's going on here? Levi said something about 'magic' and a surprise, and that I wouldn't believe my ears."

Robbie and Angelo both nodded. Gretta had nowhere to sit, so she moved stuff off the riding lawnmower and perched there. She looked to the three of them expectantly.

Levi began to sing "Jeremy" again. Gretta went still. She stopped blinking. As the song finished, she sprang back into motion, wiping her eyes. She whispered, "Oh, my god. You guys…"

Angelo said, "I know."

The garage was silent.

"Can you go the other way, you know, do what you just did but to a Frank Sinatra-type song?" Gretta asked.

The guys thought about it, got their phones out, searched for a few minutes before landing on, "It Had to Be You." They tinkered with the tempo and the rhythm, did a little humming here and there, then turned to Gretta. "Okay, Mom. This might be a little rough, but here goes."

Levi began the song, Robbie came in on the second stanza, and then Angelo came in on the third, and Robbie brought the acoustic guitar in on the fourth stanza. Again, Gretta was spellbound. She said, "I have to make a phone call," then abruptly left the lawnmower. "Keep working on this sound. It's good. Try some other songs and rhythms, tempos, stuff like that. I'm amazed. Blown away. Just WOW." Within seconds she was gone.

Around thirty minutes later, Gretta re-entered the garage. "Why don't you all come inside, have some lunch? I called some people. My old college roommate's husband is a talent scout for a record label. He's going to come over to hear you."

Robbie did the 'mind blown' gesture again.

"Mom, we did that Belinda Carlisle song you love, and it's pretty incredible. I think you're going to love it," Levi said, between handfuls of Dorito's.

"'I Get Weak?'" Gretta asked.

The band nodded.

Lunch was perfunctory. They were in the groove, and the garage called to them. Gretta followed them and reassumed her seat on the mower.

Levi played a stylized intro on the keyboard. Robbie started the song, and by the time they got to the chorus, Gretta's eyes were watering. She again whispered, "Oh, my god. You guys…"

Judy was Gretta's college roommate. Her husband Rich was 'the guy.' Every label had a 'guy,' and Rich was one of the guys with a golden ear, a crazy intensity and tenacity when he found top tier talent. Gretta brought two kitchen chairs into the garage before Judy and Rich arrived, and then when they arrived she and Judy held each other like they hadn't seen each other in 50 years, but they seemed to know each other intimately, like sisters.

Angelo spoke first, "Here's the thing, Judy and Rich: We've only worked on these three songs in this style. We do loads of covers and have original stuff, but when you hear these three songs…"

Robbie did the 'mind blown' thing again.

Angelo continued, "I nearly jizzed. Okay? Like we were shocked. Anyway. Just three songs."

They performed for Judy, Rich, and Gretta. Gretta's eyes started watering again. Judy's jaw dropped. Rich got out his phone and started recording after the first 10 seconds of "Jeremy."

"Fellas," Rich said when they'd finished, "I think I can help you out. I took some video. Gretta said you play at Hooch's Bar every other Saturday, right?"

They all nodded in the affirmative.

"Get some more songs together. I like this sound. It's throwback but fresh. Do you have a demo?" Rich asked.

They exchanged contact information, and Rich told them he'd be bringing some people to their next gig at Hooch's. As Rich and Judy left the garage, Gretta trained her gaze on her son and his friends.

"Sounds like you have some work to do. I imagine you'll be needing my garage to get ready for your next gig?" she asked, but it was more a rhetorical, gentle prodding.

***

After setting up their equipment and doing a quick sound check at Hooch's, Levi, Robbie, and Angelo stood off to the side of the small stage where they'd begin their set in just a few minutes. They stood over a piece of cardboard cut from the lid of an Adidas shoebox. They taped the set list on the brown side, and Angelo attached it to the top of his bass drum after they made their final decision on how their performance would go.

Gretta, Judy, and Rich were there already. Rich hadn't joked when he said he would bring people—there were ten people with him. They occupied two tables toward the back of the room near the bar. Everyone was ready. The guys were ready to shoot their shot.

Robbie approached the microphone stand isolated on center stage, leaned in and enthusiastically said, "Hey, everybody. Thanks for coming out to see us tonight. We've been working on some new, old, and original music. As always, we hope you enjoy yourselves. We are King Midas."

They kicked off the set with their new stylized sound, and cell phones throughout the bar lit up while patrons recorded the band. A first for any King Midas performance at Hooch's Bar. Rich leaned back in his chair, elated and satisfied with the good fortune of finding Levi, Robbie, and Angelo through his wife's best friend from college. After they finished their set, the band met Rich by the bar.

"What did you think?" Levi asked. "I mean, from where we were, we think it went pretty well. I thought we sounded good."

Robbie and Angelo nodded in agreement.

"Guys, you were phenomenal. My people were enthralled. We're going to need a demo. You're going to need a manager and/or agent if you don't have one. I can help you, connect you with people who won't want a piece of you," Rich said. "You're going to need more material. I don't want you to be a cover band, but I love what you've done to those old songs, and we're going to want to capitalize on your unique take." Rich paused speaking to make eye contact with each of them.

Robbie broke the silence. "I want Gretta to be our manager."

"Dude, my mom's a lawyer. She doesn't do 'manager' stuff," Levi said.

"Man, we're going to need a lawyer," Angelo broke in. "None of us knows all that stuff, and I can't read all the legalese. Can you? Your mom can really help us. We should totally talk to her."

Levi leveled a suspicious gaze on Robbie.

"Levi, on my word, I'm not going to try to sleep with your mom," Robbie said. He put up two fingers then made it three, "Scout's honor, man."

***

Excerpts from "Where Are They Now: King Midas"

[Voiceover of Gretta backing concert footage and photo montage.]

Here's the thing. Levi, Robbie, and Angelo weren't just three dude bro's who started a band. They had been friends since kindergarten. They began King Midas in tenth grade. I always got a kick out of listening to the back and forth, the bravado, and the development of their sound and talent. It was a treat they used my garage for rehearsals. Robbie began hitting on me when they were in ninth grade. It was cute, and we all knew it was going nowhere, but it still drove Levi crazy.

The summer they found their sound, they were in between their junior and senior years of college. There were huge decisions on the horizon for each of them. Angelo was in an architecture program. Levi was pre-med and would be taking the MCAT and applying to medical school, and Robbie had his sights on business school after graduation. We had to have a parent meeting to discuss what was happening with King Midas and whether or not these young men of ours should take a year off school or try to work on music and juggle it with everything they were trying to do academically. The other option was to walk away, and none of them liked the idea.

They worked tirelessly through the summer. There was music in my garage every night, permeating the walls of my house. I knew what I would advise Levi, and I knew it went against conventional logic, but it had to be his decision. If I interfered in the decision-making and things didn't go the right direction, I didn't want him to resent me.

They recorded their demo. They found an agent, Robbie's dad, also a lawyer. Robbie—that kid. [Gretta laughs.]They pulled out all the stops that summer. They hit several music festivals and built a following. They received radio play. They had big numbers on Spotify on the songs from the EP they released. Rich recommended they release EP's instead of albums to keep momentum building and to give them a chance to focus on getting through school.

The academic year wound down. They had each decided to defer post-graduation academic plans for one year, see how things went, then decide what would happen next. For med school, Levi's credits would remain current for two years. If necessary, he could hold off for another year.

***

After graduation, they threw themselves into their music and all things King Midas. The success was heady and the schedule grueling, but the vibe was addicting.

"Hey, man. I have something to tell you," Robbie said, pulling Levi's attention away from Mortal Kombat.

"Yeah? What's up?" Levi asked.

"I'm not in love with your mom anymore," Robbie said. "Katie and I are serious, you know?"

Levi put down his game controller to look Robbie straight in the face, "You know your dad and my mom are a thing, right?"

Robbie didn't know, and he took a beat to turn it over in his mind, "Cool. We could wind up being brothers if things play out for them. So cool."

"Dude, do you even talk to your dad about stuff?" Levi asked.

"Nah. He does his thing, and I do mine," Robbie said. His parents' marriage had been in tatters for years, and they finally decided to end things the summer the King Midas sound was born. Robbie had three younger brothers and opted to move into his dad's new house for peace and quiet as the summer burned itself out and autumn came rushing in with great fervor and demand.

Angelo planted himself on the floor and blocked the television. "Rich called. We've got a side stage at Coachella. I told him we'd have to think about it."

"What the…" Levi said, jaw dropped.

"Are you freaking kidding me right now?" Robbie asked.

Angelo laughed, "I told him we'd do it. We have a year. We have to do it."

Coachella happened. Lollapalooza happened. Opening for some very big bands happened. King Midas appeared at some smaller venues that sold out in record time. They made more music, released more EP's and a full length album. Robbie married Katie. Gretta and Robbie's dad bought a large home together. Time flew and eventually became dire. Decisions had to be made.

It seemed everything they touched turned to gold. Levi loved the thrill of performing, but it wasn't what he was made for. He had seen Angelo's sketches and blueprints of buildings he wanted to design, and Robbie just wanted to start a family and be a dad.

The three of them sat around the table, passing a basket of homemade crusty bread Robbie had made from scratch. "I'm going to med school in the fall," Levi said.

Robbie's face fell. At first Levi and Angelo thought he was upset, but then they saw the smile. "Katie's expecting. We're having a baby, and I don't want to be on the road. We have all the money we're ever going to need if we're smart with it."

Angelo said, "I entered one of my designs in a contest and won. I need to keep going with my work." They were silent, smiling, eyes misty, chewing through Robbie's bread.

"You know," Robbie mused, "I wanted to kick Levi's ass when he said I needed to dig down on the vibe."

"Yeah," Levi laughed. "It's been a fun and wild ride, and we've been charmed. I just kept thinking. What is all this, you know? I've wanted to be a doctor my whole life, and we've had success with our music, but it's not giving me what I want on the inside, if that makes sense."

"It does," Angelo said, and Robbie nodded in agreement. There wasn't a dry eye between the three of them.

"I guess we need to let Gretta, Dad, and Rich know our decision then. You guys cool?" Robbie asked.

And a successful, yet personally unfulfilled, King Midas retired.