"Bradley Denton - We Love Lydia Love" - читать интересную книгу автора (Denton Bradley)

Well, I guess I expect her to dump me, have her usual creative burst, and for
the world to be in my debt. And for my first album, Willie Todd, to be released on
datacard, digital audio tape, and compact disc.

You are Christopher. Yeah, yeah.

“Guess that’s all, Danny,” I say. “Just figured I should check in.”

Why? He’s watching us all the time anyway.

“Glad you did, Chris,” Daniels says, and the line goes dead.
 I head into the ice-cold store, and now that I’m off the phone, I have a
moment in which all of this — my new voice, my new face, my new name, my place
in the bed of Lydia Love — seems like a lunatic scare that can’t work and can’t be
justified.

But CCA has the psychological profiles, the gizmos, and the money, so CCA
knows best. If it makes sense to them, it makes sense to me too. And what makes
sense to CCA is that Lydia Love’s creative process has followed a repeating cycle
for the past eleven years:

At seventeen, after graduating from high school in Lubbock, Lydia had a
violent breakup with her first serious boyfriend, a skate-punk Nintendo freak.
Immediately following that breakup, she went without sleep for six days, writing
songs and playing guitar until her fingers bled. Then she slept for three days. When
she awoke she drained her mother’s savings account, hopped a bus to Austin, and
bought twelve hours of studio time. She mailed a digital tape of the results to
Creative Communications of America and went to bed with the engineer who’d
recorded it.

The recording engineer became her manager, and he lasted in both his
personal and professional capacities for a little over a year — long enough for Lydia
to start gigging, to land a contract with CCA, and to buy a house in a rich Austin
suburb. Then her new neighbors were awakened one night by the sounds of
screaming and breaking glass, and some of them saw the manager/ boyfriend running
down the street, naked except for a bandanna. The sound of breaking glass stopped
then, but the screaming continued, accompanied by electric guitar.

The next day, Lydia’s debut album, First Love, was released at a party held in
the special-events arena on the University of Texas campus. The party was
supposed to include a concert, but Lydia didn’t show up. She was in the throes of
her second creative burst.

The music that emanated from her house over the next three weeks was loud,
distorted, disruptive, and Just Not Done in that suburb. The neighbors called the
cops every night, and at the end of Lydia’s songwriting frenzy, one of the cops
moved in with her.

The cop suggested that Lydia take the advance money for her second album