It was a call from Milan,... fuck. He probably believed that I was into this punk stuff. He didn't know I just learned all this stuff in a library flicking through CDs. He didn't know, I, I...basically used him to get to what I wanted.
I pulled my big girl pants up, if someone in this world deserved I was honest with him it was him. I felt ready to face the consequences. I reached for the phone, but just as I got to the phone it stopped.
I halted. I was ready to pick up the phone but not to call him back. This required a whole new level of preparing. But my thoughts were quickly shut down as I heard the phone again. But this time it was a text:
˝Hey Lara, sorry to be so out of the open but, our guitarist is out and we need a replacement for a gig in Ljubljana, you in? You said something about knowing how to play, I can show you?˝
Not even a minute later, he followed it up with a setlist:
1. Kuzle-Vahid Vahid ( a Slovenian punk song)
2. The Kingsmen-Louie Louie (an easy to play-proto punk song)
3. Bob Dylan-Subteranean homesick blues
I was looking up the chords to this songs and it seemed rather simple. Even tough I lied about being into punk, I did know the basics of guitar. I could pull this off. I mean, I owed him at least this much.
˝I'm in˝ I replied. This is gonna be a catastrophe.
That day, I already started practicing in my bedroom with my guitar I bought off my schoolmate for 100 euros along with the amp. I got through Louie Louie and Dylan pretty easily, but the Kuzle song was pretty tricky. Because it was a Slovenian song from the early 80s, it was pretty much impossible to find any sort of tabs or chords on the internet, but I hoped Milan was gonna be able to explain it to me once we met.
We were only a couple of days away from the gig when we had our first practice, I remember the drummer was looking in me up and down, like he was trying to get a read on me.
˝You ever been in a band before?˝ He asked coldly. He saw right through me, I was a poser, I never said ˝FUCK YOU DAD!˝ I loved my dad.
˝No, I was not.˝ I replied as calmly as I possibly could.
This seemed to relax him, he was actually quite a nice guy and a cool one too, he had already been roadie for quite a few bands before making his own with Milan.
Milan was messing around with his bass, before whipping out a piece of paper with chords to Vahid Vahid on it. Milan was not a 'made man' in the scene like the drummer. He came from Trzin just like me, but he was a native there. He actually got a lot of shit for that, because he was seen as poser and a trust fund kid.
But he didn't care. He was having fun every time they got together and jammed. He also helped by teaching kids around the city guitar and talked to them about music. He was a scholar when it came to music. He listened to everything. He didn't discriminate between genres. He also supported minorities especially immigrants and LGBTQ community. He wrote on the back of his guitar:
˝The one that shouts queers, listens to queen? Know what you stand for!˝
And then there was me a person who listened to this music for about two weeks. I was everything they accused Milan of. A poser and probably more. But I thought that as long as I would stay in the back, I would be left alone.
We kept practicing and we were actually getting better by day. We mostly got Louie Louie down completely, mostly because we skipped the solo and Dylan was no trouble for us either. Now all it took was was for us to practice Vahi (that's what we called the song by then) and we'd be set.
It was going smoothly, almost too smoothly. That is what was messing with me the most honestly.
The day came. The reason why our setlist was only 3 songs, was because the show lasted only 2 hours and there was 12 bands or solo singers. It was some sort of art show in a Slovenian high school called Gimnazija Moste the band signed up for. I wished I could tell you how the other acts were, but I spend most of the time in the back shaking.
It was bad, really bad. I knew I didn't belong there. Only 2 weeks ago I didn't know shit about this kind of music and now I had to go on stage and act like I lived punk rock lifestyle.
Because of the drummers connections we got to close out the show and the minutes were running by like a prime Usain Bolt. And it was not long before we found ourselves behind the big curtain.
My heart was pounding so fast, my chest became a glorified punching bag. I was also so hungry. Me and the boys went to get some pizza beforehand, but I refused to have any, because the last thing I needed was to throw up or shit myself on stage from the pressure.
The time was on. We were on stage and my hands felt like they weighed 1000 kilograms each. And off we went.
First song: Subteranean homesick blues
I felt like fire was rushing through my veins. I was so fast, drummers was so tired from the end of the song that he had to take a break. I didn't keep in time with a rest of the band and I felt like both of the guys are gonna abandon their instruments and start beating the living hell out of me.
Second song: Louie Louie
THE.CROWD.WENT.MILD. One of the bands before us already covered the song and the crowd was not really interested in listening to the same song and without the solo this time and also a bit speed up. We were demoralized and we didn't know what really to do. But we had one last trick up our sleeve.
Third song: Vahid Vahid
We took a deep breath and put on the greatest performance our bodies were capable of. Somehow we didn't miss a beat. It was amazing. The crowd was clearly very happy to actually hear a song in their own language. And maybe some of that hype can also be explained by the fact never knew our song was a cover, me and the band decided not to burst their bubbles, Kuzle were gonna get their money anyway.
LARA PETEK 12.1.2025