//------------------------------// // The bands all here! // Story: Starlight Venue // by swingbeat //------------------------------// The band's all here. I had been up since the crack of Celstia's flaming ball of gas raising up and assaulted my eyes. It was barely even 9 when Pundy (Pundamilia's nickname), Hercule, Rhythm, and I called out in unison, “Next!” It was the third day of auditions and, thanks to Hercule and Rhythm, news had gotten out about our band and the need for ponies or anything that could hold an instrument, because outright searching for talent was too time consuming and tiring, not to say that the folks in the griffon lands weren't nice (They even offered some “bacon” to me. I was sick for a week after that.). But I wanted to get back to The Starlight Venue and check on progress, which apparently was not going too well, as we were having auditions outside in the park while the din of construction was fixing a termite infested second floor, which had caused the latest of issues of a collapsed back half. But, it was not all that bad. At least this way we could tack on some apartments to the building. Also, for the record, if the Cutiemark Crusaders ever ask you if they can help paint stuff or help in any way, make sure you decline or bring lots of solvent, because no matter what happens, they always seem to end up in the literal sticky situation (need I mention the caulking gun incident?). As the latest pony left us with a feeling that she could do well if she actually had been brought up in Jazz like Rhythm or I, we had Twilight's assistant, Spike, walk on the stage with a tenor sax, wearing a single red glove and a white vest with a black stripe on it. After introducing himself he began to play and after the third or tenth cycle of music I had an ear worm. Things progressed slowly, but it got better. A lot of the musicians that really were musicians by trade knew that you come late for the auditions so that you can be remembered more, a tactic I used a few times as well. Soon, at the end of it all, we were left with differing opinions because we needed to figure out who we wanted and who we needed. “I thought Crosswind was a good choice,” I said. “Nah, he has his own fans and would bring a lot of baggage with him into the mix,” said Hercule. “I agree,” Pundy piped up. “Well then, what about Spit Valve? I know him personally, yes, but he also knows his way around a trumpet, almost as well as his brother Cornet,” I inquired. “Well, what about that other one, Diamond Taps?” Rhythm asked. “Nuh uh. While her saxophone was near flawless, but all of us would agree that she had no sense of improvisation as well as her stage presence sucked,” Hercule said as he thumbs-downed. And on it went for hours until, finally, we had our band. The more notable members of our band were, of course, the pianist, the bass player, the drummer, and lead male vocal, which of course was us. But we had a bit of a surprise when it came to one of the trumpets. Spit's actually made it and for female vocalist we had, and here's a shocker for ya, Rarity auditioned and won unanimous approval, and it wasn't because she's the element of generosity. Did you hear the voice she had? It rivals that of one of a seapony's siren song! But since she owned her own store, she was given the title of part-time singer. Our other songstress was a pony named Misty Meadows, an earth pony mare that had a sizable repertoire to her and had already achieved a small amount of respect in the very tight nit group of ponies who still play Jazz professionally. (Whats funny is that all of them showed up and most were so rusty with their instruments we had to let them loose, which was very hard.) After our discussions, we sent the list of ponies to the Ponyville Gazette to print in the morning paper. After that, we went to bed for highly deserved sleep. The next morning I decided to pay a visit to Rhythm so I could get to know her better. But instead of meeting her at her new home near the venue, I met her at the station waiting on the platform. After walking up, I asked who she was waiting on. “My daughter.” Okay, hold up. Run that me again? “Your daughter?” “What? I can't be a mother and your bassist?” “No, just…” I stammered. “...I didn't take you as being a mother, that's all. What's the little one's name?” “Olive. She's coming from my fathers place in Manehatten.” As she finished saying that, we heard the tell-tale whistle from the Manehatten Express, which was heard off in the distance and soon after the station was busy with a small amount of ponies moving this way and that. There were two little fillies that got off near the end of the train. One was brown with pink mane and freckles, the other was a bright red orange filly with a mane just like her mother's. This had to be Olive. As the two fillies split from each other, Olive came bounding over to Rhythm and, after the two met up, her mother introduced me. “Darling, this is mister Swing Beat, the leader of the band I am in.” “Are you the one to thank for giving mom a permanent gig?” Rhythm scolded her foal, but I merely said, “Nah, it's okay. Myself and pretty much the rest of the band has been in that situation before, and besides, just call me Swing. All I do is just keep every one in time with each other and occasionally sing. Your mother, though, is the unsung hero in the band. Without her, the music we make couldn't have as much depth to it as it does.” Olive smiled and then said, “Mom, I'm hungry. Can we go get something to eat?” “Of course, sweetie. Swing, do you want to join?” “I'm peckish too. Sure.” As we walked to one of the restaurants that served breakfast, Olive was telling her mother all about how she met that foal “Babs Seed” on the train and from there it went downhill. As she gushed with information, some of which was comical, some of which I knew I wasn't supposed to hear, but out came the words ranging from how she will miss her friends to the hope of making new friends and even going so far as to asking me what Princess Luna was like. Which reminded me, during the night while we slept, Luna walked into my dream (I was wearing a helmet this time) and said that she would be visiting when the place opened. “I bet shes really nice!” Olive said. “She is. Oh, that reminds me,” I said. “I need to tell ever one that Princess Luna will be attending the grand opening after we get the place fixed up.” I saw Olive's eyes nearly pop out of her skull when I said that and her mother was fully agape, too, with a look of “you didn't care to mention this earlier?” “I was told last night while I was dreaming of surfing a chocolate milk tsunami on a rock candy surfboard. I was going to tell everyone this afternoon at the rehearsal.” This earned a eye roll from Rhythm, but Olive was ecstatic about the chance to meet the princess of the night. After breakfast, Rhythm said she had to go and pick up a fresh set of strings for her bass before the rehearsal. She asked if Olive wanted to join her. “Aww, I wanted to see where you’ll work!” she whined. Ah, the joys of foalhood. You can get just about anything with a pair of puppy eyes and a pout. As Rhythm sighed, she asked if I could show her the venue because she needed to pick up the strings as soon as possible. I agreed and we started walking to the still under construction venue. Thankfully the first floor was still in one piece and was currently being finished with all the bells and whistles for the dance hall and restaurant, so I showed her around the main area. As we were walking around, the new piano Princess Luna ordered for us had arrived and I had to leave Olive alone for a little bit as I had to help get it in place on the stage. When I returned to Olive, she was checking out some of the art we had received from local artists. As I was telling her a little about the history of our music we play, her mother walked in. Olive went to her mother and after a “see you later mister Swing!” from Olive, they left to go to their new home a block away, leaving me with a now empty dance hall. So, seeing as how our new piano arrived, I decided to go see Hercule, who was staying with a pony friend of his named Lyra. Apparently the two did a gig together a few moths back before he joined that other band before joining us. So stopping by, I told him of the new piano. Eagerly, he wanted to see what it looked like and came with me as we went back to the venue. On the way, I told him about Luna and her visiting for the grand opening. “Wouldn't that say something that infringes upon her wish to stay anonymous?” “Not really. You see, it has been leaked that her favorite music is Jazz and Swing. So, when she visits her own venue that no one knows she truly owns, it will seem like she was invited.” “Smart move for a hay brain.” “Says the feather brain.” “Touché,” Hercule replied. Over the last few days I had been trying to get on Hercule's good side, and that required some insults and well timed jokes. It's not hard, but it defiantly is not a trot in the park. Upon arriving at the venue, I showed Hercule in and to the piano, which was still covered in the fabric it was transported in. Hercule quickly flew over to open the gift from Luna and when he did, I was taken aback by just what was inscribed on it. The lid had an emblazoned star that was imbued with a little glow of magic, but just enough to light it up and pronounce it from the ebony black that it was on. The keys were an alabaster white and, according to Hercule, “weighted exactly to a griffon piano”. As a test, he pressed a few keys and found that it was indeed in tune, so he played a small improv on it and fell in love with the instrument immediately. Meanwhile, Pundy had heard music being played in here and came in to investigate. “My, what a pretty instrument Hercule.” “Oh, this is the best thing I have ever gotten to play! The keys are weighted perfectly to my talons. The seat is placed just so I can have full access to the pedals. Oh, I am in heaven!” he said ecstatically. “Well, I am sure of that. Just don't put your pride in front of you again. You may lose it.” “I learned my lesson, Pundamilia. Besides, I still kick myself for ever doing that to you.” “Don't be. It would have happened eventually. Now that we have a piano, shall I bring my drums in from the station warehouse? I fear that if they stay too long they may be confused with somepony's baggage.” “Of course. Will you need help?” “No, they should have a wagon they can loan me. If not, I will ask for help there.” “Here, I will assist any way,” said Hercule, and off they left. By about six that evening, we had finished the dinner that was catered to us by the resident Pinkie Pie (note to self, buy tums after rehearsal). Thankfully, instead of a party, she just catered food for the first rehearsal which garnered thanks from everyone and soon we were all set up for our first practice. Amid the din of tuning instruments and such, we actually had a small group of ponies show up for the practice. Among them, Rarity, Misty Meadows, Rhythm's foal Olive, and a few others that wanted to see what was going on. “Alright, alright. Listen up.” The room fell quiet. “First of all, I think introductions are in order. You all know me. My name is Swing Beat. I am the lead male vocalist as well as the conductor for the band. Let's start with the back row and go forward from there.” "My name is Spit Valve," said the red blue maned earth pony stallion. “My name is long Wind,” answered the next trumpeter. She was a pegasus with blue fur and a white mane. And on it went. Soon, everyone was introduced. I gave out announcements. “Alright. Well, the good news is we're halfway through this maddening beginning and I just got word that Princess Luna will attend the grand opening of the venue.” This created a few words, but I calmed them down ... barely. “Well, the more we practice, the quicker we will be made ready. Let's start with the A train to get warmed up.” As we tuned the band and got everyone on the same key, we practiced through to 11 or so. There were a few times where we had to stop and reorganize the band, but I soon got the sound we wanted and, after testing some slow, moderate, and swing dance songs, it was time to hit the hay again, for tomorrow we practice again, then after that, we open!