Smitten

“I know this is going to sound like I’m sucking up to you,” Alessandra says. She pauses for dramatic effect, leans in, and whispers, “One of my all-time favorite bands, ever, is 22 Goats.”

I scowl playfully. “One of your favorites? Not your top favorite, ever?” I point toward the far end of the patio. “Get the fuck outta here. For shame.”

She laughs heartily with me.

“Seriously, that’s a huge compliment,” I say. “Especially coming from you.”

“There you go again. Fish, I’m a student. You’re a world-famous musician.”

“You’re a music student at one of the most prestigious music conservatories in the world, and you’ve got seriously awesome taste in music. The fact that my band is even in your top twenty is a huge honor.”

“Top twenty? Try top four. And it’s a tie for first, by the way. 22 Goats isn’t fourth.”

“Seriously?”

She nods. “I love all your songs. Every album is a masterpiece.”

“Which 22 Goats album is your favorite?”

She waves at the air. “I couldn’t pick. You’ve evolved so much with each album. Each one is a whole new experience. The perfect soundtrack of whatever I was going through at the time. That’s what I love about your band the most. That you guys aren’t afraid to grow and take risks. As an aspiring artist, I find that incredibly inspirational. After the huge success of your debut album, you could have ‘stuck with what got ya there,’ forevermore. But you decided to stretch yourselves. Also, I love that every song on every album is top quality. Innovative. Heartfelt. Interesting. Even the simple love songs are produced with simplicity for impact, not because you were cutting corners or because the song was some kind of throwaway or filler.”

Damn. That was a lot of words from her, all at once. Not to mention, a lot of fucking awesome words. “Wow,” I say. “You really are a fan.”

Alessandra cringes. “Did I fangirl too hard?”

“Not at all.”

“I told you I’d talk your ear off if I got comfortable and felt passionately about a topic.”

“And I told you I’ve got two ears and only need one. I’m loving this conversation.”

Her blue eyes widen adorably. “Really?”

“Really.”

She picks at the label on her water bottle. “I’m sure everyone you meet says all these same things about your music, though. You’re probably sick to death of hearing it.”

“Uh, no. Nobody says what you just did. Honestly, I never get to have conversations like this with anyone. Ever.”

She flashes me a look of complete incredulity.

“It’s true,” I insist. “Yes, I admit fans tell me they love my band. But they never articulate what they love the way you just did. I never get the chance to talk to someone who’s so knowledgeable about music, in general, and also about our catalog. We never want to rip ourselves off or become a caricature of ourselves, you know? But that approach is risky in terms of marketability. And you obviously understand that. You get our need to grow and evolve.”

“Of course, I do. The songs on your first album were written when you guys were, what, eighteen?”

I nod. “Eighteen and nineteen.”

She shrugs. “Anyone would grow and evolve in their early twenties. But you guys, especially. Since writing that first album, you’ve toured the world. Become superstars. Not to mention, you’re different musicians now, after playing so many shows. You’re no longer the boys, the aspiring musicians, you were at age eighteen. You’re men now. Professionals. Masters of your craft.”

I’m totally blown away. Too overwhelmed to speak. Too intoxicated by her words. Her big blue eyes and auburn hair. The scent of her shampoo and sunscreen. Not to mention, her undeniable sincerity. If I wondered about her genuineness before, I’m not wondering now.

“Take your bass playing,” Alessandra continues. And it’s the first time she’s filled a silence between us. “When I put your albums in chronological order and binge-listen to them, I can plainly hear how much you’ve all grown as musicians. But especially you. You’ve gained so much confidence and skill over the years—especially the last two albums. Which isn’t to say you were anything less than stellar on your first two. But you were so raw and green back then, compared to now. I love being able to hear the difference. The confidence you’ve gained.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper, my heart thumping. “You’re seriously able to hear all of that in my bass playing?”

She nods. “And in your backup vocals, too. Sometimes, when I listen to my favorite albums, I close my eyes and concentrate on what each musician is doing. I hone in on the voices, specifically. Then, the bass. The guitars. I listen to the production. All the various choices that were made in creating the songs. And, when I do that, from album to album, I feel like I get to appreciate the musicians’ journeys so much. As musicians—and as people.”