John Henry Newton

This is an image of a lump of rock placed in front of the bass drum of the drum kit I was playing during the evening of the 11th March 2014. Two songs in, in the middle of a song, the bass drum has begun to runaway from my foot. I panic for a split second and internally curse that I should have been better prepared for a show that I’ve spent two years working towards. In the corner of my squinting eyes, the rotund bartender strides out from behind the bar with the boulder* aloft and halts the drum’s horizontal escape, as if it was purposely stowed between the branded lager glasses for this very function. I would like to have taken the rock as a souvenir, an object so dull and forgettable that became beautiful in that one unique moment, the missing piece in the jigsaw of the song. 

*A boulder is deemed to be no less than 30cm, I may have misclassified for the sake of the story. 

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