“Banks and Primo had been doing this punk thing for a while. They brought me in because they needed a drummer, even though my first love is guitar. That’s how it works. You play whatever the band needs, and they needed a drummer.”

“When did you hook up with the band?”

“Late eighties. I was twenty-three. Primo and Mudd were a bit older, but Rudy was younger than I was. Made it hard for us to get booze in the places we played. Most of the time, we’d nick it. The bartender looked the other way.”

“How did Mudd come into the band?”

“That was Banks, too. He’s a bastard, but he had a good ear. Mudd was with another group, his talent wasted. With Mudd on guitar and Primo on bass, Banks started playing keyboard and the band just clicked. Banks, being a master of self-promotion, got us a record deal almost immediately. We put out an album. It made the charts. We made money. We partied. We had pussy coming out of our ears. We were perpetually wasted. We never thought it would end, but it did. Primo and Banks became producers. I managed to find some paying gig. I knew the big time was over. I keep it all in perspective, but Mudd couldn’t handle it—the crash. In the recording business, there’s always a ‘next big thing’ breathing down the neck.”

“Did you write your own songs?”

O’Dell laughed. “You think a cut like ‘Bang Me’ came from Harold Arlen?”

Decker smiled. “You know your music, Mad Irish.”

“I like Harold Arlen. I wish I woulda written ‘Over the Rainbow.’ I’d be set up for life.”

“Who wrote the band’s songs?”

“Mostly Banks and Primo.”

“So they got most of the royalties if someone did a remake of the band’s numbers?”

“A-right about that. And over the years a lot of artists have covered our songs. I’m not claiming a piece of that. That battle’s between Banks and Primo. What burns my arse is Banks remastering and selling a Best of the Doodoo Sluts CD without giving us a bloody red cent in royalties. It’s my vocals on those songs. It’s Mudd’s vocals. What gives that arse-hole the bloody right to take silver from our pockets?”

“So let me ask you this, O’Dell. What were you going to say to Banks if you would have found him this morning?”

Mad Irish hesitated. “I’d worked meself up real good when you saw me. I suppose it was a good thing he wasn’t there.”

“You should stay away from him, Liam. Let your lawyer do the talking.”