It was a time for a mixtape. Or a mixed CD, more like. A compilation CD. Seeing as Beth was going to be laid up at home for the next couple of weeks with the broken leg, and especially seeing as he’d been the last person she’d spoken to before she went and got hit by that car.
Chris just felt a little responsible. Sure, she’d been drinking before they got off stage and came and joined her, but they’d certainly been klapping those shooters. She would say, “To Blow The Band,” every time they downed a round, then they’d all say, “It’s not a name, it’s an instruction!” And then they’d order another lot of tequilas.
She’d even asked him to come to the Autobank with her, and like an absolute bladdy fool, he’d said, “No, it’s cool. I’ve just come back from there.”
It was so obvious! She fully dug him. And now she had a broken leg and was gonna be out of circulation for a month at least. There was no way he could make a play for Beth until she was at least on crutches. That was the band rule.
And besides, the band was going on tour tomorrow.
So until Beth broke the crutches barrier, Chris was going to worm his way into her heart with a compilation of sexy rock tunes, so she’d have something sweet to listen to while she recovered, and also so she could think of him a couple of times every week until she was better and could come invite him to the Autobank again.
The compilation was kicking off with a Blow tune, obviously, since she dug the band so much. Freedom would be a good one. Sets the tone nicely, then maybe go on a Led Zeppelin tip, but not a traditional Zep song. D’yer Mak’er from Houses Of The Holy would probably work, cos that allows you to go reggae after that.
Reggae puts out a mellow, positive, loving vibe. And that’s the aim here, after all. Marley next, because all mixtapes need a Bob Marley tune. A lekker acoustic song. Coming In From The Cold from Redemption. The last song he ever wrote. Shame, man.
Chris once knew the chords to that, but never had the guts to play it live. Whities can seldom get away with playing Marley. But you can certainly put it on a CD. And then Santeria by Sublime. Ska-flavoured acoustic rock. And then we’re heading back towards the rock, so maybe La-La-Love You off The Pixies’ Doolittle album.
That’s a bit of a weird one, full of whistling and more drumming than anything else. So what to follow it with? Something modern, to stop it being too retro…
Ah, hip-hop. How about The Clap Song, by Skwatta Kamp. Yiss, but those guys rocked The Bassline the other night. Sheess. There were 12 of them on stage by the end, rhyming befuck.
Then some international reggae… How about Izzo by Jay-Z and Linkin Park? Perfect, because that leads us back to the rock. Something with beats this time, maybe… Ah-ha! Lapdance by NERD. A perfect funk-rock jam to get Beth’s, well, her foot tapping.
Then a perfect three-song combination that always worked for Chris when he was DJing at London Calling. Place Your Hands by Reef into Special K by Placebo into American Idiot by Green Day. Wee-hoo. Okay, now it’s lekker punky, so maybe a slightly mellower punk song to ease out of it…
Or, hang on. Dakota by Stereophonics. That’s gotta be the best rock song ever! This is turning into a goodie.
And then finally for the coup de grace to finish off the album, Fix You off the new Coldplay. Which immediately suggests the title for the CD…
Chris scribbled, “I will try to fix you” in his neatest cursive on the top of the disc and popped it back in its jewel case.
Then he cycled over to Beth’s digs in Westdene and triumphantly popped the CD in her postbox.
The next morning Blow left on their three-week tour of the Cape, Southern Cape and the Free State.
It was only on the way back, after they’d rocked the hell out of the Mystic Boer in Bloem, that he realised he’d forgot to put his name on the CD. Such a doos!
Meanwhile, in Westdene, Beth had Fix You on repeat on the lounge hi-fi. “And the best part,” she thought to herself, “is that he just knew I’d know who it was from.”
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