Singles Going Steady: Nine Inch Nails's "Get Down Make Love"
"Come on, Josh. Please?" I kicked at the side of the piano, leaving a black smudge on the top of my white Tretorn sneaker. "Please?" I was giving him the full-on doe eyes; over the years, I'd discovered them to be a valuable tool in getting what I wanted. "Pretty please?"
Josh sighed and finished playing whatever sonata he'd been working on, "Okay. I'll talk to Walter." He flipped through some sheet music and pulled out my copy of Ralph Vaughan Williams and Dante Rosetti's "Silent Noon." It was a difficult song to sing and we'd been working on it for a while. I was taking it to an upcoming choir competition and he was going to be my accompanist.
I stopped rubbing at my sneaker, "Really?"
He popped his knuckles and started playing, "Why do you want the job so badly, anyway?"
I hopped up on the top of the upright and dangled my legs down the side. "Because, darling Josh, I need to get a job. I don't want to do food service and I don't want to be a retail slave. This would be perfect for me, remember? That's what you said."
He looked up at me and rolled his eyes good-naturedly and kept playing. He was such a fantastic pianist, definitely the most talented one in the history of the school. Our choir teacher, Mr. Tune, took total advantage of him, too, making him play for every choir class, plus show choir, plus contests, plus concerts, plus any other time Mr. Tune needed him. Josh was a good sport, though; he never complained, never said "no." He seemed to truly love playing, which was why we were all so confused/surprised when he decided to go to pharmacy school. Mr. Tune set up tons of auditions for him, took him on dozens of visits to music schools. Josh went along with it at first, but he finally confessed to Mr. Tune that he simply had no interest in playing in college or professionally, for that matter. He wanted to enjoy his senior year and didn't want the stress of auditions to interfere. Mr. Tune didn't talk to him for a week, after that.
The job I was hassling Josh about was at the _____ Music Centre, where he also worked. He gave lessons, helped order sheet music, and did other miscellaneous piano-related tasks. A month or so before, Josh's boss, Walter, told him that he was looking to hire someone part time to run the register, help with the inventory, schedule lessons, things like that. Josh mentioned it to me—for my first job, it sounded fantastic. It was the closest thing in my town to a job in music. Work for high-school kids was hard to come by, so I'd been hounding Josh to get me an interview. I was extremely excited at the idea of making my own money, at no longer having to beg my Dad for an allowance. In my head, I'd already spent months of paychecks I'd yet to earn. I wanted this job bad.
At first, Josh was all gung-ho about me working there, telling me how good the employee discount was. He said that when he was free he'd give me piano lessons. He said that Walter was a little odd but seemed like an okay guy. But then Josh stopped talking about it. When I brought it up, he said things like, "You know, it's really not such a great job after all," and "It's kind of a drag working for Walter." I asked Josh if it was that he didn't want to work with me, and he assured me over and over that no, that wasn't it. And when I asked well, what is it, then, Josh said, "I just think you'd be happier working somewhere else." Eventually, however, I wore him down and he agreed to introduce me to Walter, but he could never give me a definitive time.
"This week?" I reached down got ready to turn the page for him.
"Uh-huh."
"Is that uh-huh 'yes,' or uh-huh 'no'?"
He looked up at me again and I couldn't ascertain whether he was annoyed or simply concentrating. I chose to believe it was concentration. "Yes. Turn it—"
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Iseult," he pounded the keys, "when I go into work tomorrow, I will talk to Walter and see when he's available."
I hopped off the piano and hugged him, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
He patted me on the back, "Okay, yes, you're welcome. Now do you want to sing this or what?"
****
Two days later, in the choir room between classes, Josh told me, "Okay, Walter said he could talk to you on Thursday. He'll be expecting you around 3:30."
"Great. Thanks again, Josh. I really appreciate it."
He bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling, "Don't thank me, yet."
****
I woke up early on Thursday morning, tried on a zillion different outfits. I kept running from my bedroom down to the kitchen asking my dad, "Does this look professional? Does this say, "Hire me?'"
Dad looked up from his Chex and tilted his head to the side, "Iseult, this outfit looks exactly like the one you just showed me."
"Oh Pop," I was exasperated. "It's a totally different outfit? Black loafers instead of brown? Navy shirt instead of green? Are you paying any attention to me at all?"
He looked befuddled, "Pumpkin, anything you wear I'm sure is fine. You're going to do great." He pointed to the clock, "But if you don't get a move on, you're going to be late. I don't think I can write you an excuse for lateness due to fashion problems."
I ran back to my room, decided to go with the black loafers/blue shirt combo. On my way out the door, I gave Dad a kiss on the cheek, "See ya, Pops."
"Good luck. They'd be fools to not hire you."
When I got in the car, I felt like listening to something exciting, something energizing. "Prince? No," I tossed Purple Rain in the back seat. "Pixies? Nah." I rooted through the tape case, "Holy shit," I laughed and pulled out Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch's single for "You Gotta Believe." Skatie claimed she bought it as a joke, but I knew she truly liked the song. I threw it in my backpack so I'd remember to give it to her later. No way was that staying in my car. Then I found it: I put the Nine Inch Nails "Sin" single in the tape deck, flipped it to side two, and blasted "Get Down Make Love" all the way to school. I couldn't get enough of that song, don't think I listened much to "Sin" at all.
For those of you not familiar with the NIN oeuvre, "Get Down Make Love" is a Queen cover all trussed up in Trent Reznor's dirty, goth-y, carnal style, but recorded before he started getting seriously fucked up and dark. I mean, he's always been fucked up and dark, but this single doesn't reflect the extreme darkness yet to come, e.g., like, every single song on his next album, The Downward Spiral.
I was reciting, "That's what I want to know, now, all of it, now, tell me, yes!"* for the third time, when I pulled into the school parking lot.
Josh was waiting for me at my locker.
I waved at him, "Hey! What's up?"
He looked very upset, his face was a deep red. "Don't go to the Music Centre today, okay?"
"What?"
"Look, just—forget about the interview. It's not going to happen."
With that, Josh bolted down the steps. I opened my locker, totally befuddled by what had just happened. I was more than a little peeved, thinking, What the fuck? I couldn't fathom why Josh wouldn't want me to have the job and nothing I thought of to explain it made any kind of sense. I kept my disappointment in check until fifth period show choir. Hell bent on tearing into Josh, I stomped into the choir room only to find Mr. Tune at the piano.
"Where's Josh?"
"Well, hello, to you, too, lady," Mr. Tune laughed. "He said he had somewhere he needed to be. Seemed awfully agitated when I saw him. Guess you'll have to deal with my plunking today..."
After school, I went to get a coffee and decided to drive by the Music Centre. I had no clue what I expected to do once I got there, but the decision was made for me once I pulled up and saw police cars outside the store. The sign on the door said "open," but all the lights were off and it didn't look like anyone was inside. So weird, I thought. More confused than ever, I headed for my house.
There were two messages from Dad on the answering machine:
"Iseult? Give me a ring ASAP, okay?"
"Iseult, it's Dad. I'd really like for you to call me. It's almost four. I'm in the office."
Then one message from Josh:
"Iseult, it's Josh. Call me."
God, why is everyone such a spaz today? I called my dad, but he didn't pick up. I was still pissed at Josh, but I decided I'd call him after I got the mail. I sat on the couch and sorted it and clicked on the TV. A local news report was on:
"Friends and family are shocked tonight to hear the news about Walter Bannerski, owner of _____ Music Centre…"
I stopped sorting.
"Police raided the store, located at _____ Market Street at around 2:30 this afternoon. Working from an anonymous tip, police officers arrested Bannerski who is being charged with allegations of child molestation and the possession of child pornography. Aided by the specific information police obtained from the previously mentioned tipster, police arrived at the scene to find a half-clothed, as-yet unidentified minor in the back room of the Music Centre. Police placed the minor in protective custody and arrested Bannerski. Bannerski, 46, of _______, has no prior arrest record. Delia Dyson, owner of Miss Delia's School of Dance, Baton, and Aerobics, which is located next door to _____ Music Centre, had this to say about the charges."
"He seemed like he was such a nice man. Quiet. Loved his job. Active in the small-business community here. I can't believe it."
"Mr. Bannerski, yeah, I knew him," said Chester Matzekis, owner of Apollo Bakery, located across the street. "Never expected anything like this to happen. Not in a million years."
"Police Chief Mayer says he is grateful for the information they received from the anonymous tipster and that Bannerski will be arraigned tomorrow morning. We'll continue to bring you more information, as this story develops, on tonight's five o'clock news. Reporting live from _____, this is Kandace Tessler, Channel 33 News."
Nine Inch Nails, "Get Down Make Love"
From the "Sin" single, AKA, Halo 4
Purchased from Musicland, Niles, Ohio, sometime in 1991.
* I did a Google search of the dialogue that opens the song, but nothing definitive came up. So this isn't verbatim or anything.
Josh sighed and finished playing whatever sonata he'd been working on, "Okay. I'll talk to Walter." He flipped through some sheet music and pulled out my copy of Ralph Vaughan Williams and Dante Rosetti's "Silent Noon." It was a difficult song to sing and we'd been working on it for a while. I was taking it to an upcoming choir competition and he was going to be my accompanist.
I stopped rubbing at my sneaker, "Really?"
He popped his knuckles and started playing, "Why do you want the job so badly, anyway?"
I hopped up on the top of the upright and dangled my legs down the side. "Because, darling Josh, I need to get a job. I don't want to do food service and I don't want to be a retail slave. This would be perfect for me, remember? That's what you said."
He looked up at me and rolled his eyes good-naturedly and kept playing. He was such a fantastic pianist, definitely the most talented one in the history of the school. Our choir teacher, Mr. Tune, took total advantage of him, too, making him play for every choir class, plus show choir, plus contests, plus concerts, plus any other time Mr. Tune needed him. Josh was a good sport, though; he never complained, never said "no." He seemed to truly love playing, which was why we were all so confused/surprised when he decided to go to pharmacy school. Mr. Tune set up tons of auditions for him, took him on dozens of visits to music schools. Josh went along with it at first, but he finally confessed to Mr. Tune that he simply had no interest in playing in college or professionally, for that matter. He wanted to enjoy his senior year and didn't want the stress of auditions to interfere. Mr. Tune didn't talk to him for a week, after that.
The job I was hassling Josh about was at the _____ Music Centre, where he also worked. He gave lessons, helped order sheet music, and did other miscellaneous piano-related tasks. A month or so before, Josh's boss, Walter, told him that he was looking to hire someone part time to run the register, help with the inventory, schedule lessons, things like that. Josh mentioned it to me—for my first job, it sounded fantastic. It was the closest thing in my town to a job in music. Work for high-school kids was hard to come by, so I'd been hounding Josh to get me an interview. I was extremely excited at the idea of making my own money, at no longer having to beg my Dad for an allowance. In my head, I'd already spent months of paychecks I'd yet to earn. I wanted this job bad.
At first, Josh was all gung-ho about me working there, telling me how good the employee discount was. He said that when he was free he'd give me piano lessons. He said that Walter was a little odd but seemed like an okay guy. But then Josh stopped talking about it. When I brought it up, he said things like, "You know, it's really not such a great job after all," and "It's kind of a drag working for Walter." I asked Josh if it was that he didn't want to work with me, and he assured me over and over that no, that wasn't it. And when I asked well, what is it, then, Josh said, "I just think you'd be happier working somewhere else." Eventually, however, I wore him down and he agreed to introduce me to Walter, but he could never give me a definitive time.
"This week?" I reached down got ready to turn the page for him.
"Uh-huh."
"Is that uh-huh 'yes,' or uh-huh 'no'?"
He looked up at me again and I couldn't ascertain whether he was annoyed or simply concentrating. I chose to believe it was concentration. "Yes. Turn it—"
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Iseult," he pounded the keys, "when I go into work tomorrow, I will talk to Walter and see when he's available."
I hopped off the piano and hugged him, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
He patted me on the back, "Okay, yes, you're welcome. Now do you want to sing this or what?"
****
Two days later, in the choir room between classes, Josh told me, "Okay, Walter said he could talk to you on Thursday. He'll be expecting you around 3:30."
"Great. Thanks again, Josh. I really appreciate it."
He bit his lip and looked up at the ceiling, "Don't thank me, yet."
****
I woke up early on Thursday morning, tried on a zillion different outfits. I kept running from my bedroom down to the kitchen asking my dad, "Does this look professional? Does this say, "Hire me?'"
Dad looked up from his Chex and tilted his head to the side, "Iseult, this outfit looks exactly like the one you just showed me."
"Oh Pop," I was exasperated. "It's a totally different outfit? Black loafers instead of brown? Navy shirt instead of green? Are you paying any attention to me at all?"
He looked befuddled, "Pumpkin, anything you wear I'm sure is fine. You're going to do great." He pointed to the clock, "But if you don't get a move on, you're going to be late. I don't think I can write you an excuse for lateness due to fashion problems."
I ran back to my room, decided to go with the black loafers/blue shirt combo. On my way out the door, I gave Dad a kiss on the cheek, "See ya, Pops."
"Good luck. They'd be fools to not hire you."
When I got in the car, I felt like listening to something exciting, something energizing. "Prince? No," I tossed Purple Rain in the back seat. "Pixies? Nah." I rooted through the tape case, "Holy shit," I laughed and pulled out Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch's single for "You Gotta Believe." Skatie claimed she bought it as a joke, but I knew she truly liked the song. I threw it in my backpack so I'd remember to give it to her later. No way was that staying in my car. Then I found it: I put the Nine Inch Nails "Sin" single in the tape deck, flipped it to side two, and blasted "Get Down Make Love" all the way to school. I couldn't get enough of that song, don't think I listened much to "Sin" at all.
For those of you not familiar with the NIN oeuvre, "Get Down Make Love" is a Queen cover all trussed up in Trent Reznor's dirty, goth-y, carnal style, but recorded before he started getting seriously fucked up and dark. I mean, he's always been fucked up and dark, but this single doesn't reflect the extreme darkness yet to come, e.g., like, every single song on his next album, The Downward Spiral.
I was reciting, "That's what I want to know, now, all of it, now, tell me, yes!"* for the third time, when I pulled into the school parking lot.
Josh was waiting for me at my locker.
I waved at him, "Hey! What's up?"
He looked very upset, his face was a deep red. "Don't go to the Music Centre today, okay?"
"What?"
"Look, just—forget about the interview. It's not going to happen."
With that, Josh bolted down the steps. I opened my locker, totally befuddled by what had just happened. I was more than a little peeved, thinking, What the fuck? I couldn't fathom why Josh wouldn't want me to have the job and nothing I thought of to explain it made any kind of sense. I kept my disappointment in check until fifth period show choir. Hell bent on tearing into Josh, I stomped into the choir room only to find Mr. Tune at the piano.
"Where's Josh?"
"Well, hello, to you, too, lady," Mr. Tune laughed. "He said he had somewhere he needed to be. Seemed awfully agitated when I saw him. Guess you'll have to deal with my plunking today..."
After school, I went to get a coffee and decided to drive by the Music Centre. I had no clue what I expected to do once I got there, but the decision was made for me once I pulled up and saw police cars outside the store. The sign on the door said "open," but all the lights were off and it didn't look like anyone was inside. So weird, I thought. More confused than ever, I headed for my house.
There were two messages from Dad on the answering machine:
"Iseult? Give me a ring ASAP, okay?"
"Iseult, it's Dad. I'd really like for you to call me. It's almost four. I'm in the office."
Then one message from Josh:
"Iseult, it's Josh. Call me."
God, why is everyone such a spaz today? I called my dad, but he didn't pick up. I was still pissed at Josh, but I decided I'd call him after I got the mail. I sat on the couch and sorted it and clicked on the TV. A local news report was on:
"Friends and family are shocked tonight to hear the news about Walter Bannerski, owner of _____ Music Centre…"
I stopped sorting.
"Police raided the store, located at _____ Market Street at around 2:30 this afternoon. Working from an anonymous tip, police officers arrested Bannerski who is being charged with allegations of child molestation and the possession of child pornography. Aided by the specific information police obtained from the previously mentioned tipster, police arrived at the scene to find a half-clothed, as-yet unidentified minor in the back room of the Music Centre. Police placed the minor in protective custody and arrested Bannerski. Bannerski, 46, of _______, has no prior arrest record. Delia Dyson, owner of Miss Delia's School of Dance, Baton, and Aerobics, which is located next door to _____ Music Centre, had this to say about the charges."
"He seemed like he was such a nice man. Quiet. Loved his job. Active in the small-business community here. I can't believe it."
"Mr. Bannerski, yeah, I knew him," said Chester Matzekis, owner of Apollo Bakery, located across the street. "Never expected anything like this to happen. Not in a million years."
"Police Chief Mayer says he is grateful for the information they received from the anonymous tipster and that Bannerski will be arraigned tomorrow morning. We'll continue to bring you more information, as this story develops, on tonight's five o'clock news. Reporting live from _____, this is Kandace Tessler, Channel 33 News."
Nine Inch Nails, "Get Down Make Love"
From the "Sin" single, AKA, Halo 4
Purchased from Musicland, Niles, Ohio, sometime in 1991.
* I did a Google search of the dialogue that opens the song, but nothing definitive came up. So this isn't verbatim or anything.
posted by Iseult at 3:20 PM
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