CHAPTER 41

“Just because you’re popular doesn’t mean you’re talented,” Malcolm said, scowling.

If Myrna had a cotton swab, she would have cleaned out her ears. He didn’t really just say that, did he? Eric’s fingers gripped the back of her jacket. Was he trying to keep her from jumping Brian’s father and kicking the shit out of him? Probably a good move on Eric’s part.

“They just don’t make music like they used to,” Malcolm added.

“Thank God,” Myrna grumbled.

“I mean Sed doesn’t even sing,” Malcolm said. “He just screams and growls.”

Eric’s fingers gripped Myrna’s jacket even tighter.

“And Brian solos constantly,” Malcolm continued, the furrow in his brow deepening. “He wouldn’t know a good riff if it bit him in the ass.”

“Malcolm…” Claire said in warning, but she was grinning to herself in agreement.

“And why in the hell do you need three bass drums, Sticks?” Malcolm asked. “You only have two feet. And fourteen cymbals? I mean really. What’s the point?”

“Different sounds,” Eric said quietly.

“Yo