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Eddie Munson, what a rare opportunity for an interview
Yes yes
He laughs.
I know I know, usually the band does the interviews. I’ve been advised not to give them by our management. So go and complain to them!
The fans of your band SURVIVING FALCONSVILLE are dying to know, is the new single ‘sacred boy’ from your current album ‘Too Young for a Memory Lane’ an autobiographical song?
Absolutely not. You see, I’ve had a bad time at school and when it was finally over, I couldn’t get away fast enough. Make it big! Show the world what I can do! That I am somebody! And nothing was really holding me back there anyways. Did you know I failed senior years two times and almost a third one?
He laughs again.
Yes I think that is something that has been mentioned a lot while SURVIVING FALCONSVILLE started out
As long as it's not the only thing about me that makes the news! Anyways, I really didn’t like my school or my hometown, but I still do spend a lot of time thinking back to these days. ‘scared boy’ is one of the many songs I wrote about the people I knew back then. When I showed these songs to the rest of the band, it was one of the few they deemed really good and both close enough to the sound of the first album, but also a fresh new angle.
Does that mean you are writing songs that do not fit your usual heavy metal style?
He hides his face behind his hands briefly.
Yes I do. Lame I know. There is no way anyone will ever get to hear them! I play them once to the band and if they say no they will stay in my head. No physical evidence or proof of anything. So don’t bother breaking into my house or the studio, you will find nothing! And when this interview is over, I will just pretend you made that up for sales! I can already imagine the headline ‘Rising Heavy Metal Star is Big Fan of Country’
Are you?
NO
We couldn’t help but notice that the title ‘scared boy’ isn’t an actual lyric in the song. Is there any reason for that?
Yes there is. It’s a long one, so I’m not sure I can do it justice in a short answer here but I think both the song and the guy it's based on deserves me trying to explain. The song is definitely written from my very own and narrow perspective of him and what happened. I was young back then - well I am still only 26 - but I’ve learned the painful way that there are multiple sides of a story and just because I cannot think of someone else’s stance doesn't mean it's not there. So when I wrote it I used a lot of accusatory descriptors: ‘coward’; ‘two-faced’; ‘heartbreaker’. I was deep in memories and didn’t bother to think of why he might have done what he did. For me, what was happening was a friend self sabotaging. I really couldn’t understand why he would go for literally anyone but the one person he actually wanted to be with. Why would anyone want to be unhappy? Why would he choose misery instead of love? Took me till months later, while i was changing up a bit the riffs of the guitar solo in it that this was so unfair. He was just afraid and a child. You probably have noticed that there are a lot of long words and unnecessary flowery terms in the song and I think I partially choose that to make it sound purposefully convoluted, so that everyone listening has just as much of a hard time understanding him as I had. But while recording I realized how uncomplicated the answer actually is. So we changed the title to the simplest term we could think of. ‘scared boy’
Eddie is so tired of touring. Yes, getting cheered on is great. Yes, making money is great. But he genuinely thought he would see a bit more of the world while touring. But it's mostly hotel rooms, the tour bus and another dark venue and another short night.
Music is his life and he wouldn’t treat it for anything else. But he enjoys writing and playing goddamn it, not talking to strangers that just want to either gather dirt on you or use you as a stepladder. Fans are weird.
There is also so little actual music involved while touring. If they have a tight schedule they play five times a week for an hour to one and a half each and the rest is driving around, sleeping, eating or staring at a wall. Turns out when you’re in a semi big band you don't even do your own soundchecks. It’s really not as glamorous as he thought it would be. But that could also be because at first they simply were not big enough to participate properly, and now while they technically are he’s mopping.
He genuinely thought he was over Billy Hargrove. But for some reason the Rock Stations and Indie Bar and fans can’t get enough of scared boy. The more Eddie hears his own song, his own words, the more he has to admit that this wound still hurts. Eddie hopes Billy knows this is about him and that he regrets everything. He also wishes he could stop thinking about him, now that he convinced himself that it were just nerves. Pretty fucked up if he’s right with his new take on their past, cause that would mean Eddie put a lot of pressure on him. Eddie just wants to be done with this and happy. Some nights, he also wants that for Billy.
They’re almost done. It's a big relief honestly. Three more shows and he gets to go home. And then he can lock himself into his basement, actually play as much as he wants, not just the new album, not just scared boy but whatever he wants from whoever he wants. One thing Eddie never thought possible was missing playing cover songs or playing on Wayns old acoustic.
Arny on the bass plucks the first chords, Chester joins in on the bassdrum and Eddie himself almost fucking misses hes queue, cause theres Billy fucking Hargrove standing in the first row, off on Jamies side. Shit if he was rhythm instead of lead, he would have Billy right in front of him mere ten feet away.
It’s awkward and funny and stupid and insane and impossible and how is this real. Eddie hasn’t felt this kind of emotional turmoil on stage since the Hideout. He’s usually so sure on stage, this is the one thing he just knows how to do. Yet he’s nervous and sweats way more than usual and gives a quite disappointing performance. The playing is still on point, but he absolutely refuses to engage with the crowd and looks everywhere but slightly to his right.
They play the encore, Eddie leaves the stage and while he’s not panicking noheisnot he does have to admit that now he feels like a scared little boy. Under no circumstances had he actually thought that Billy cared. Of course he had wished for it, dreamed about it. But let himself think it could be real? No.
He can't find him. The people have gone, there's only the team and the personnel of the venue left, and there is no Billy Hargrove. Eddie is either losing his mind or his eyes are so tired he mistook a stranger for him. One of these options sounds way more likely than the other, but he doesn’t want to admit to it. The Band probably thinks he lost his mind and there's that one guy working at the bar who looks at him like he’s about to explode and destroy something.
Jamie yells at him to finish whatever freakout he's having, they need to be on the road again soon. And fuck has it really been this long he ran around looking for a head of blond locks?
“Wow, so he wasn’t full of shit?”
Eddie whips around and the stare happy barkeep is approaching him. He has an envelope in his hand.
“There was a guy behaving weirdly. Almost threw this away honestly.” The man taps on the envelope. “There are always quite some people wanting to leave their contacts, but he was one of the few people who didn’t try too hard. Was kinda sure of himself.”
He has no idea what his face looks like and he doesn’t care. Eddie just wants whatever's in that paperfold. “Did he have blond curls, blue eyes, and scares in his eyebrow and on the cheekbone?”
“Yeah!” The guys smiles. “That was him. This is so cool. Usually we just throw this stuff out.” The barkeep holds out the envelope to him. “There's nothing dangerous in here, I saw him write a message on a flyers and the sleeve is from the venue.”
“Thanks.”
Honestly, the fact that Eddie manages to not tear it open instantly deserves an award. But that's only because Arny decided to join in the yelling for him to hurry up.
Two months later a taxi is dropping Eddie Munson off at a small house two miles away from the California coast. He has two duffle bags over his shoulders and a lot of butterflies in stomach.
No one answers after the first ring.
No one answers after the fourth ringing.
Eddie sits down on the duffle bag filled with clothes and waits. He didn't come out here to just quit. Although his nerves do protest. A lot.
Two hours later and what is guaranteed to be a nasty sunburn on his nose, he can hear a muscle car approaching. It’s still a Chevy, but it's beige. Fucking boring color. But what does that matter when it's getting parked right up the driveway, and Billy Hargrove is sticking his head out of it, somewhere between smiling and grinning.
Nothing really matters compared to this.