rachel
I ran across the CD while going through and importing my collection to a new ipod. It was a CD-R with the name “Milkleg” written on it with a sharpie in handwriting I didn’t recognize. Curious, I put it on to hear a haunting acoustic intro I didn’t remember from anywhere. Skipping ahead to a full on metal song, the voice gave it away. Rachel! Of course, how could I have forgotten? She had a beautiful voice, similar in style, but ten times better than Evanescence, whose song was all over the radio during our short friendship. Filled with the desire to write to her and tell her all about New York, maybe even try and sell her on the idea of coming out with her band, I googled Milkleg to see if I could find a website with any contact info. The band’s website was the first to come up, but the tagline under it threw me sideways. Entering the site I was struck dumb. I thought I had to have made a mistake. I sat and stared at the screen for a while searching for a way to convince myself that I had.
I was playing a love song on Pearl St. on a sunny afternoon in Boulder, CO when I met her. I have no idea what month or time of year it was. The last six months or so in any town are always a blur when I know I’m moving. She was short and cute, with an open and friendly face. She walked up and tipped me a dollar. She was young and grungy looking, with large trusting eyes.
“That’s a really good song,” she said.
“Thanks.” Always happy to be approached by a cute girl and not wanting her to walk away, I tried to think of a conversation starter. She beat me to it.
“I just moved here, I was hoping to meet some other musicians. Do you know any good places to play?”
“What kind of music do you do?”
“I play acoustic right now, but I’m in a metal band. The rest of the band is moving up here soon.”
“So you play solo acoustic metal?”
“I guess so...”
“Awesome. I go to a few open mics around here that are fun. I could take you sometime.”
“That’d be great, thanks.” We traded phone numbers.
“What made you move here?”
“Our town in Texas was kind of small. We wanted to come somewhere we could have a chance at really doing the band.”
“So you came to Boulder?” I couldn’t help but feel a little worried about her choice. “The only bands that make it around here are hippy jam bands. I’m moving to New York as soon as I can.”
“Well, we’re in Denver really.”
“Still. Huh.” I realized I was implying that she had just uprooted her life to come to the wrong town, and could see a little worry creep into her face that was turning defensive.
“We’ve found some other cool bands already and some good clubs. I think it’s ok.”
“No, yeah I’m sure. I’m sorry, I have a habit lately of thinking that everyone should go to New York. Play me a song before you go?” She took my guitar eagerly and started playing dark metal sounding leads that came out pretty awkward on an acoustic. She moved into power chords that, while she played them well enough, still gave good evidence as to why solo acoustic metal is a relatively untapped genre. Then she started singing. It was amazing; sweet, powerful, and controlled like she’d been doing it for decades. It made me want to drag her in front of whoever signed Evanescence and tell them that no, this is a voice, and one with a hell of lot more to say than those over produced Christian mannequins would ever have.
(pg 1 of 3)
