Dark Entries: A Serialized Account

Memoir-style installments on being in a band in London.

Things had been quite copacetic between Daniel and I since my triumphant first Mongo performance. Things, for me, were copacetic in general at the Mongo. In exchange for a few hours in the cold collecting punters’ pounds each weekend I was gifted with plenty to drink and wonderful people to party with, more live music than I could take in, and ample opportunities to perform. It was, unequivocally, a sweet deal. And Daniel, at...

I’d forced this poor suffering body out in front of the microphone and now the eyes on us, looking out from the crowd, felt white hot. I was the ant under the magnifying glass, except where an ant has the excuse of unintentionally frying himself as a result of an exceptionally small field of vision, I was not only aware of the danger, I’d also scurried out looking for it. I’d positioned myself straight under the glass eye, ben...

Once I’d corrected him — Roger, as I learned his name was — and was shown inside, I remember thinking it odd he thought I was a stripper, given there seemed to be quite a few children running around the large house in far-flung East Ham. But then again, I thought it odd to see so many children at a gathering at which I was meant to be playing. My material, although less graphic perhaps than a strip tease, was not child friendl...

Follow Emma Dennis as she recounts her time spent in London, finding her way through early adult life, and into bad habits and being the lead singer of a band.

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