Another One Bites the Dust – The Redux

As they all approached the bend leading toward the conclusion of her harrowing and magical evening, the repetition of the chorus swaddled Sam in sense of reckless comfort. She had fleeting seconds to soak it all in, but it was just enough. She’d never fronted a band of any configuration or clique. The closest she’d gotten was singing with Sid in Minneapolis, and that seemed like a 50/50 proposition at best.

This felt different.

Entirely different.

To sing solo was to be the engine of a train with nothing attached—just a transient vessel going from point A to point B, carrying the entire load of her instrument and her songs and her versions of other people’s songs.

Singing with Sid was different. Adding just one car imbued Sam with the confidence of a fallback plan. Or at a minimum, a useful distraction if her wheels slipped a bit.

But fronting a band—she was coupled to an entire train. She was the lodestar of the convoy, but there was glorious momentum behind her. As she chanted the chorus and strutted before the crowd, Sam felt the thrust of the various instruments. It was an energy that afforded her unimaginable longitude and latitude. She was doing things as a lead singer that she could’ve never imagined as a coffee-house singer songwriter.

It was pure verve. With a microphone in her hand and the band at her back, she was the embodiment of it all, and the throng of Amsterdammers saw only her.

She knew it.

It was decadent, intoxicating, and most assuredly all that.


Excerpt from All or Nothing Girl, the forthcoming novel from Blake Charles Donley

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