You spin beats with a african drumming record. Making complex evolving loops. Motley is playing slide blues riffs with sharp solo licks that slice the air. A pretty good session you are feeling great about all of this. Then D J Scrim walks in the door with a bass guitar strapped to his back and a USB turntable tucked under his arm."I've been working on spinning vinyl for three months now! You gotta check this out! He sets up while you stand forgotten in the corner. Scrim takes the first Black Sabbath album and he makes amazing dark journeys, the sounds he makes you can't even recognize as Black Sabbath. You stand humbled. When Scrim finishes Motley claps him on the back and asks me to re-join the band. "Sure", Scrim says. He notices you for the first time, "Who's he?".
"Oh no one, he was just leaving". That's that, in and out of the band the same night. Completely forgotten before you even get off the front porch. To make matters worse its a five hour walk by home and ten minutes into it the a dark storm rolls in with cold rain.