Since I had already proven my skills to the band members, it was now their turn to prove theirs to me.
What song would require immense technique across all parts while demanding perfect harmony between everyone?
Naturally, the genre had to be heavy metal—something that pushed instruments to their absolute limits—and it needed to be a track where synchronization was key. But did such a song exist...?
'Ah, this should work.'
The song I chose was 'Children of the Night,' released in 1987 by the band Whitesnake. The sound was already etched into my brain; as long as I could jot down the tablature and standard sheet music for them, we could dive into the rehearsal immediately.
"Just wait a second. I'll get the song for us to play."
"Hey man? What do you mean? You're 'getting' a song to play?"
"Music isn't usually made that easily, you know. What are you talking about, Leader?"
Their jaws dropped when I returned just twenty minutes later with the completed sheet music. Any decent gearhead can look at a score and tell exactly what kind of sound it will produce. Looking at the notes, the two of them instinctively knew: if they could pull this off, it would be legendary.
And when it comes to music, true players always let their actions speak louder than their words.
"Hey man, let's play this right now."
"Leader, we're doing this immediately, right?"
Exactly.
This band was made of nothing but pure, obsessive musicians.
Whitesnake was formed by David Coverdale, the vocalist of Deep Purple, after his departure from the group. Despite being practically chased out of Deep Purple, he went on to become a legend with this band instead.
'Children of the Night' is a track that perfectly showcases Coverdale's vocal prowess, characterized by a refreshingly powerful and driving sound.
The track exploded into life with a screaming electric guitar riff.
As I gripped the guitar and began to sing, the solid foundation of the bass and drums anchored my vocals with absolute stability.
I turned my back and looked at the members.
I couldn't observe every detail since I was focused on the guitar and vocals, but I could tell they were both genuinely enjoying themselves.
Of course, the bald Bassist, who always chased perfection, seemed momentarily flustered by the breakneck tempo, but it didn't seem like a negative kind of surprise.
The drums and bass bolstered me.
Their raw yet precise sound breathed a straightforward, exhilarating energy into the song. This was a sound I could never have achieved alone.
As the song reached its peak, I increased the speed of my fretting hand. This was the part where I could let loose. Like a stallion breaking into a gallop, the guitar tone surged past my vocals and raced forward.
I poured the sheer catharsis I was feeling into the performance. I was the one who gathered them, but man, I really loved this band!
It is always a joy to make music with such exceptional players.
I finished the final section with a piercing, glass-shattering high note, as if I intended to blow the roof off the rehearsal studio.
After all, isn't rock 'n' roll vocals all about those high notes?
By my own estimation, the first rehearsal was a success.
A massive one, at that.
Even though it was our first time locking in, it was a flawless performance with not a single beat out of place. As we finished the set, the three of us locked eyes, conveying our thoughts through our gaze alone.
'This guy's actually good.'
Musicians have a way of growing closer through their craft. Without saying a word, we could already feel the mutual respect vibrating between us.