Rock n' Roll Life
By Donna
Chapter Eleven: Sealed With a Kiss (The Eyeliners)
Alternative Press
Subatomic Treehuggers
No Secrets Here
5/5
Tracklist
1. Dramatic Intro
2. Girlboy Vs. Actual Reality
3. I'm Your Number Two
4. Drop Yer Shorts
5. But Sir, I'm Not Dead
6. My Cat Had a Fall
7. Relapse
8. My Life is a Musical (And You're My Maria)
9. Kiss Me Times Three
10. (April Is) the Cruelest Month
11. One More Sad Song
12. The Last Good Girl
Bands that have hype surrounding them usually make you question the quality. If people over-look the fact they are actual musicians, because of their visual or their stances on things, what's the point? But Subatomic Treehuggers proved themselves on this album, their second LP, that they can deliver.
Roger Davis' voice is a little rough around the edges, but his guitar playing is very well done. It easily wipes you of all doubts you've ever had about guitarist/singers. The bassline, played by Mark Cohen, is exceptional as well. "Drop Yer Shorts" has, by far, the best bass part I've heard in years.
And now for the more controversial member of the band, the newcomer Angel Dumott-Schunard. This girl is probably the biggest shock on the whole album; she can sing. Really well. She and Davis sing the chorus to "Kiss Me Three Times" in a ways that have been never thought possible. And her voice is not from hormones. It's her natural voice. She's still a little patchy on the drums, but seeing the circumstances she was under, she did okay and after being with the band more, she will definitely improve and become a threat to the rest of the music world.
NSH is able to mold humor, drama, and great storytelling in a package that is not too long (almost forty-five minutes even), not too complex, and can fit into the collection of anyone who enjoys a guitar and a song about a guy in a dress.ALTend
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"This is our bus!" Angel screamed, jumping on Roger's back to get a better look.
Roger nearly fell over. "Ow! You crazy bitch! Yes! This is our bus."
"Wow..."
Roger waddled to the side of the bus. "Look at the sexy black finish..."
Angel squirmed. "I can see myself!"
Roger waddled toward the door. "You're so lucky you weren't on our first tour. We used Collins' crap truck. It could only do so much..."
Angel giggled. She looked down and saw the top of Roger's head. "Oh! I'm sorry! I've been kinda on top of you..."
"It's not so bad," Roger said, "You weigh, like, nothing."
Angel unhooked her legs out . "Well, let's go in."
They opened the door and got inside. Roger pointed out the fridge, the chairs, and the bunks.
"Can two people fit in a... bunk..." Angel asked, embarrassed.
Roger laughed. "Probably. You're teeny."
Angel smiled. "Good."
Mark and Collins came in.
Roger and Angel turned their heads. "Hey, guys!" Angel added, "Look, Tom! Isn't this place sexy?"
"Yep, it is, Ang."
Angel started dancing around the bus, singing, from what everyone could determine, a new song from Shakira.
"...Uhm... Ang?" Mark asked.
"Oh, baby, when you talk like that! You make a woman go... yes?"
"Why are you singing Shakira?"
Angel continued to dance. "Because I like the song."
Roger laughed. "It's funny 'cause you don't have any tits or an ass."
Collins, Mark, and Angel all shot Roger a death-glare.
Roger didn't notice.
Angel sighed. "I'm going to go set up my bunk." She looked at everyone else. "I can still hear you from across the bus." She closed the canvas that separated the sleeping quarter from the rest of the bus and went to work.
Roger finally stopped laughing and looked up at his two friends. Collins shook his head.
"I don't get it," Roger said. He looked down at his feet and saw a writing tablet he stuffed in a bag of his and picked it up. He uncovered a ballpoint pen and wrote Why're you guys all pissed? I was just teasing her.
Mark snatched the tablet out of his hand and wrote in reply, That was mean, Roger! She's just trying to have fun and all you can do is point out flaws!
Roger replied, Collins? What do you think?
Collins shrugged and whispered, "Well... that was rude, Rog. Angel's having a really rough time. Just... leave her be."
Angel poked her head out from the canvas. "Yeah, Rog, listen to Daddy." She shut the canvas and went back to work.
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"Why am I doing this again?" Roger asked.
"Because you look simply scrumptious!" Angel joked.
"I don't say 'scrumptious'..." Mark mumbled.
"Me, either," Angel said, fiddling with the glasses in her hand. She pushed her straightened bangs out of her face and said, "Mark, I think you fried my hair!"
"I didn't! I straightened it!"
"Whatever. This is why I wear wigs."
Roger began to groan in frustration. "My face is itchy!"
"If you ruin your foundation I'm going to kill you!" Angel growled.
Roger fell back on his chair. Count on Angel to come up with an awkward form of vengeance. They were going to put on their first show of the tour wearing other member's clothing. Mark dressed as Roger, his hair spiked into a weird pattern. He wore boy jeans and a tank top that he lacked the body to fill out. Angel put on glasses (she stole an old pair from Collins she shoved the lens out of) and wore her own jeans (granted, they weren't sparkly/had buttons and patches/had writing on them) and borrowed Mark's "Break Dance, Not Hearts" shirt. She wore a collared shirt under it to prove herself Mark-like.
Roger's was the best transition, and probably the most awkward. He wore an old thrift store dress with ugly flowers across it and a horrible color scheme of pinks, purples, reds, and mustard yellow. He wore over-the-top red lipstick and blush as well. The final details included fake eyelashes and a black wig.
Angel walked to the bathroom, laughing. "You look so bad..."
Roger's eyes narrowed. "Fuck you."
Angel laughed harder, closing the door.
"I'm sorry, Angie!"
"All is forgiven."
"Can I take off the dress now?"
"No way in hell."
Collins peeked inside. "It's almost time to go on... nice dress, Roger."
Roger gave a thumbs up.
"Please do us all a favor and cross your legs," Collins added.
"Who crosses their... right," Roger mumbled.
"C'mon, let's get out of here," Collins said, leading them out. Roger began spinning around, watching his dress open up. He almost fell over and screamed, "Jesus Christ! These heels are a bitch!" He then added, "I'm gonna take a leak."
"We got one minute!" Angel shrieked.
"Let them wait!" Roger disappeared for a painstakingly long three minutes. He appeared with some kind of edge to him everyone grew weary of.
.They found the stage and looked at each other. Angel straightened Roger's wig and they went on. The fans gasped. Roger smiled widely. He went to the mic and said, "What? You act like you've never seen a guy in a dress before."
Mark rolled his eyes. Angel groaned, slamming her head on a snare.
"Well, thank you for being here, guys!" Roger boomed, "I think you know who we are by now-Subatomic Treehuggers, for the parents dragged here-but we decided to dress up. Roger shifted his position, his dress falling off his shoulder. "Oops. Wardrobe malfunction." He flashed his nipple. "Sorry parents dragged here! But seriously. Here's the crew. I'm Roger. I'm dressed as Angel. She's our drummer. She's dressed as Mark. Mark's our bassist. He's over there, dressed as me." He pointed them out and said, "But let's go. You guys ready?"
Mark and Angel nodded. This was bad.
Roger screamed, "One, two, three, four!"
Angel slammed on the snare and Roger and Mark joined her. The fans threw up there hand and howled.
"Remember, kiddies!" Roger yelled, "There're no secrets here!"
Mark spun around, throwing his bass up like a torch. The fans began to sing, raising their hands and forming "Rock-On!" signs.
They barreled through "(April Is) the Cruelest Month" with so much excitement, Roger questioned if they could make it through the set. But he didn't even think of conservation as they went to an old song called "Generic Tiffany." Mark and Roger began to spin, their cords nearly getting tangled. By their last song, "Drop Yer Shorts" Roger, who Angel and Mark were well aware had some kind of drug in his system, looked at Angel and crashed into her drumset. Angel screamed, falling backwards and crashing into the back of the stage. Mark gasped. "Oh shit... Angel!" He saw Roger raise his head from the rubble, a big, dumb grin on his face. "Thank you, motherfuckers!" he cried, "You rock!"
Mark put his bass down and helped Angel up. "What the..."
Angel rubbed her backside and groaned into the mic, "I feel like I just got fucked..."
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Roger, Mark, and Angel walked to the crowd, dressed, and hopefully recovered from the stage incident. Mark kept asking Angel if she was okay. She would wave her arm and say, "Yeah, yeah... I'm good. S'not like I haven't felt this before."
Mark laughed, hitting her. "You're so bad..."
Roger met with some girls. They screamed in high-pitched voices, "You're so hot!"
One of them added, "We made a community for your hotness. It's on el-jay. It's called..." she lifted her hoodie and exposed a black tank top that said, "realroghos."
"Real Rog Hoes?" Roger read, "Awwh!"
"Can we get a picture with you?" the other asked.
Roger nodded. "Sure! Okay." He stood with them, a random person taking one of the girl's camera and snapping a picture of him. The girls grabbed him greedily, almost fighting with each other. Roger gulped. "Uhm... you..."
They slowly let go of him. "Oh. Sorry."
After they finally left, Roger found Mark. "Hey."
"You're not Kurt Cobain. Stop trying to kill our drummer," Mark snapped.
"Markie, it was just a stunt... come on..."
Mark inched away before Roger almost stumbled on him. "You smell like J.D."
"Kinda 'cause I drank some."
"You're disgusting."
Roger smiled. A girl went up to Mark and asked him to sign her pants. He bent down and signed right above her kneecap. The girl gasped, and whispered, "Thank you so much, Mr. Cohen!"
"Call me Mark, sweetie," Mark told the girl, giving her a hug.
The girl curled up against him for a split second. Mark looked at her. "Are you crying?"
"I'm s-sorry!"
"It's okay!"
He gave her one more hug for the road and she left, waving. "Bye, Mr. Cohen!"
Roger blinked. "Did I just get blown off?"
"Yeah. Why don't you go back to Jack or something? He loves you."
Right on cue they saw a huge guy with a Mohawk walk over to Angel, who was talking to some other fans.
"Aw, fuck! Angie!" Roger yelled.
Angel looked at the man. She pulled her shirt down a little and said, in a calm voice, "Can I help you, sir?"
"Are you okay!" he asked.
"Huh? Oh! Yeah! I'm fine!"
"It looked like it hurt! Uhm... I'm a big fan. You're probably one of the best drummers I've ever seen. Thanks for making us trans look good."
Angel gasped. "O-oh! Uhm... you're welcome!"
"Name's Sean. Used to be Selene. You're amazing. I know you really don't want to box yourself as 'trans' but anyone who doesn't go by the whole 'gender role' is good in my... our book. Thank you, Miss Angel."
"Hey, anytime! I'm nothing without you, you know?"
Sean smiled. "Exactly. If anyone ever gives you shit, just punch 'em out. Don't take no shit from nobody."
Angel shook her head. "I'm a lover, not a fighter."
"I used to say that... but a smile can hold so many lies, you know?"
Angel nodded. "Yeah... guess you're right."