Musically Uninformed

There was a definite outside influence on Eleven's third album. While the first two were very bubblegum pop with almost every song a single, the third album sounded different. Both sonically and in complexity. This wasn't to say that it was rock or progressive rock music. Not in the least, but Eleven seemed to have slid from The Partridge Family's 'I Think I love' style to Louise Fletcher's version of 'I Am What I Am' Both are pop songs of course, but the latter has a message while still being a catchy pop song.

- Pop Music Magazine.

XXXXX

"Hey Zoomer, what's shaking." El asked. She didn't want to talk to Max. She wanted to think about the cute guy next door. Yeah, the one she called an idiot.

"I'm writing a song. Um, it's classically influenced. Using my training and all that."

Max Mayfield was their keyboard player. She was a whiz on the keyboards and only agreed to even play in the band if El could find a bass player to backup her keyboard sound. El couldn't find one she that wanted to play the type of music she was writing so she ended up picking up a bass for herself, and learned to play it. Vocals and bass were a good combination and she really got along with Dustin on drums, so that was the original band and they had a good sound.

El wanted to change the subject right away. She didn't like the songs that Max was writing, and she had no intention of changing their sound. This was going to be a continuing problem and she didn't want to deal with it right now. She was sort of hoping to concentrate on Dustin, she was interested in him, but he seemed more interested in Max. And besides, that was before she met the guy next door.

"So I met my next door neighbour. He's really cute. You'd like him. But there was a bit of a problem."

"What's that?"

"He didn't know who we were."

"You're joking? Where's that rock you are living under now?"

"Hawkins, Indiana. You need to come out here and keep me sane. Anyway, he didn't know who we were, or who I was."

"Does he know what a radio is?"

"If he does he doesn't listen to it. So, anyway I ended up telling him he was an idiot and to screw himself."

"El, that's not very nice, funny, but not nice. If this town is the shithole you keep saying it is. He's probably got his finger up his nose half the time." Max laughed loud.

"Ha! Does he sit on the porch and play a banjo." Max mimicked the first few lines 'Dueling Banjo's'.

"No but when I met him yesterday he was sitting outside of his house playing classical guitar."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, he's really good, at least as good as you are on the piano. I'm guessing that if he listens to the radio at all it's probably classical music stations. You don't find kids that age listening to that kind of music. That's probably why he's never heard of me. He probably doesn't listen to any music we like."

" 'Kids that age age'? How old is he?"

"Ok, ok, Max I think he's he's the same age. As I am."

XXXXX

I asked MIke Wheeler why he didn't pursue a career in classical guitar. He said he didn't think we was going to be able to play as well as Segovia or Liona Boyd and that if he had to be honest, he didn't want to play in front of a bunch of old people. So picking up the electric guitar was a way for him to expand his guitar playing, not limit it to one style

- Pop Music Magazine

XXXXX

Mike was willing to admit that he was a little scared to sit outside and practice on his guitar or just stay inside and read his X-Men comics. A habit he was sure he'd never grow out of. He didn't want to encounter her again. Well he sort of did, but he knew it wouldn't go well.

Discipline got the better of him. And he went outside to play.

He immediately regretted it when he saw El Hopper making her way over. Not just 'El Hopper' but 'the El Hopper'. Apparently a legend in her own mind.

He stopped playing. Pretended to be re-tuning while she sat down cross legged in front of him.

"It's not out tune," she said casually.

"Oh? You have perfect pitch do you?"

"Actually, I do."

Mike was impressed. Not that many people had perfect pitch. They tended to be musicians. Mike strummed a chord.

"What's that?"

"E flat Major 9, it's made up of E flat, G, B flat, D and F notes."

Oh. She really did have perfect pitch. Now he knew that she knew he didn't need to tune his guitar.

"Aren't you going to play?"

He wasn't, not while she was still sitting here. As much as she had a great voice, she had insulted him yesterday. He didn't need to her to apologize to him, it wouldn't have been sincere anyway, but she hadn't even made the effort and was talking to him like nothing had happened. He didn't feel very good about it.

"Ah ok, not gonna happen. I get it... you know what. Pretty girls get away with a lot… and really pretty girls like you get away with a lot more. But just because I don't know who you are other than The Famous El Hopper. Did I get that right? You're the El Hopper? … just because I don't know who you are, doesn't give you the right to call me, an idiot. Or anybody else for that matter. You know what? That makes you not so pretty on the inside. So, um, in the words of the El Hopper, screw you."

She looked shocked when Mike got up turned on his heel and walked away from her.

XXXXX

PMM: So Mike, when were you first interested in joining Eleven?

MW: I was never interested.

- Pop Music Magazine

XXXXX

Mike had to admit it bugged him a little. She was probably a famous TV or movie actress or something but obviously not anything he would watch. She seemed so sure that he should know who he was. Maybe Nancy would know?

He put away his guitar and went up to ask Nancy who she was. Nancy was only home from college for the summer, but she still got a bigger room than he did.

He walked into her room without knocking, like he usually did, "Hey Nance, do you happen to know…"

"Don't you ever knock? His sister yelled at him.

Mike was frozen in place. Through Nancy's open window he heard her voice again. She was singing acapella. Her crystal clear voice was delivering a haunting version of Neil Young's After the Gold Rush, and was even better than the Prelude version.

Mike turned to go back to his room and open his window. He never noticed the poster on Nancy's wall.

He didn't see that it was a black and white poster close up of El Hopper's head. Not quite a buzz cut, but not far off. It looked like she had a tattoo on her forehead of the numbers '011'.

Mike rested his arms on the window sill and propped his chin up. How could a pretty girl with a voice like that be such a little asshole?

"So not girlfriend material then?" Nancy smirked, walking right into his room.

"Ha!" Mike barked. Trying to cover his embarrassment. Obviously he was thinking out loud and his sister had heard him.

"Not in this universe." He yelled after her.

Mike might have sounded convincing to his sister, but he wasn't totally convinced himself.

Something about El Hopper. Something about her he really liked and he didn't like that idea at all.