![]() ![]() ![]() “Eric,” I began as a whisper, my voice raising in volume with each subsequently uttered word, “the next time a member of Duran Duran comes to the door, you need to tell me immediately!” Noting my strangled reaction, he looked at me with a strange and confused side-eye and replied, “Uh… maybe twenty minutes ago?” I gaped at him, simultaneously trying to comprehend what was happening, how it was happening, and how he could possibly not understand all the happening. “Yeah,” Eric shrugged, as blasé as if he was telling me the day’s mail just arrived, “I’m pretty sure that’s what he said his name was.” “S-Simon? Le Bon?… Simon Le Bon? … Came to the door?” I choked out. … or it would have been, had I not in that moment lost all capacity for language, comprehension, geography, the space-time continuum, and my relation to and/or place in any of it. I guess the studio’s printer is broken.”Įvery once in a while in life there are those needle-scratch-across-the-record moments, and this was one. “Yeah, so… some guy… I think he said his name was Simon? Le Bon… or something? He came to the door asking me to print out a bunch of lyrics. He was also perpetually nervous, so while I signed the papers, he started talking to fill the silence. ![]() Eric was about 6 years younger than me, in a pop punk band, upbeat, fun, absolutely laugh-until-you-cry hilarious, and kind of like everyone in the office’s little brother. One day, our office manager (we’ll call him Eric) brought some payment approvals or something upstairs to my office for signature. The Business Affairs office, where I worked, was located outside of Philadelphia in Main Line suburban Bryn Mawr, PA, in a nondescript compound: Ryko had the building in the front (an old 1920s-era stone mansion), while RuffNation’s successor company occupied the two brick stable buildings in the back, which they had renovated and converted into offices and a state-of-the-art recording studio. If you are “of a certain age,” you may remember Ryko for its David Bowie, Elvis Costello, and Frank Zappa CD reissues and/or its trademark green CD cases. In the early ‘00s, I worked at Rykodisc, an independent record label. Unlike most of those girls, however, that actually ended up happening to me. Like many 13-year-old girls in 1984, I often dreamed that Duran Duran’s Simon Le Bon would one day randomly show up at my door. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |