Echoes of the Seventies
"First off, one thing to point out... British Steel came out in 1980. Calling Living After Midnight a '70s song is a bit of a stretch. You could argue 71 to 80, but whatever."
"Huh, yeah, you're right."
Seoha looked sheepish. Myeongjeon turned to the other girls. They'd been giving it their all before, of course... but even when you pour your heart into everything, there's still a percentage to that sincerity, right? A lion goes all out to catch a rabbit, sure, but is that the same full throttle it'd use on a buffalo? Still, Myeongjeon figured this time they'd really need to put in the work.
Of course, no one knew what the missions would be in later rounds. But somehow, she doubted they'd be as tricky in terms of pure skill as this one, no matter how tough they got.
"Let's get serious this time. We have to make an original song anyway. Gear up for practice. I'll ask the school for early dismissal. I'll be writing the whole time during class too..."
"You say that with your mom right here? Skipping class?"
"That's not what I meant."
Hyein snatched at Myeongjeon's determined words. As her friends burst into giggles, Myeongjeon made an awkward excuse. They knew what she meant—why make it embarrassing?
Seungjae stared at the video on the screen. A girl casually strumming her guitar like it was nothing. But the sound pouring from her hands could stop anyone in their tracks.
"This was her first busking gig, right?"
"Yeah."
"No joke. We thought the theme gave us the edge. I figured you picked White Room first 'cause Seongmin suggested it."
What they were watching was Ha Suyeon's debut busking. Footage of her playing Layla and Voodoo Child on the street. Drums and bass that were obviously first-time syncs, full of rhythm slips and misfires... yet her guitar covered it all single-handedly. The drums, which should have led the beat, followed her guitar instead, and the bass was peeking nervously too.
"They brought it up first. Her YouTube channel's named after it—she must love it that much. I thought she was kidding, but it was real. Gave me chills."
"Good thing the others don't seem that hot. But their growth rate... that might not even matter. I was straight-up shocked watching Seoha drum this time."
Seungjae recalled Seoha's old skills. Back when they played live clubs, she'd show up sometimes: "I'm Horang... I mean Yoo Seoha. I'm a fan, and I play drums..." Flaunting her fandom. Rare high school girl fan—and a drummer too—so Seongmin checked her skills now and then. Seungjae had seen it once. Solid basics and technique for her age. But like most kids that age into music, she skimped on fundamentals. And she wasn't at Seongmin's level, so they'd said, "If a drum spot opens, audition then."
"Tell me about it. No idea how hard they drilled her. Fundamentals like she'd been practicing nothing but after meals."
"Not just drums—bass and keys too. Overall, their band's on our level. Guitar's way better than mine, no offense to Jaehyeok."
"Dude, I'd usually say I'm the best, but not against her. What kinda monster is this?"
Guitarist Jeong Jaehyeok shook his head at bassist Hasugeol's words.
"Back in my day, messing around in a hobby band at school festivals got me 'you're a god' screams. Her? She went to that Seo Myeongjeon tribute alone and did a solo live."
"Why'd she go to Seo Myeongjeon's tribute? Any connection?"
"Didn't you know? She's his last disciple. That guitar's his relic. Even her effects are his collection."
The room buzzed for a moment. Seungjae calmed the band and checked more clips. Street busking for their EP release, YouTube uploads, etc.
"We gotta prep hard."
"Yeah. Knew it'd be rough, but not this rough."
Seungjae had picked Group Sound for reasons he'd shared on air, but ultimately, better to clash early. Finals win packs more punch, but losing semis beats finals loss. Now, digging deeper, he regretted not saving it for the end. Assuming they'd meet.
"Still! We've got this. Best conditions ever! They'll come full throttle, but this is our home turf. No calls from now on—composing time. Emergencies only, come to the studio. Got it?"
With the band's nods, Seungjae slammed the desk and stood. No more chit-chat.
Muzaku's guitarist, Jeong Jaehun. The guy who'd sabotaged Group Sound by snapping a string on stage. He hadn't done it lightly—had his reasons, words to say. Egged on, sure, but competitive too. The world just wasn't as forgiving as he'd hoped.
His bandmates, who'd sworn to fight with him, kicked him out: "Did we say make it that obvious?" Velvet Monochrome, who'd stirred them up, stayed silent and advanced.
"Buncha bastards."
One rash moment, and he'd lost everything, Jaehun thought. Life's long; getting booted doesn't end you. But his view was pitch black.
That's when KakaoTalk pinged from an unknown name.
"Have a seat."
The summoner: Leader of Echo Stones, who'd dropped from auditions. Same surname as him, maybe?
"Jeong Woojin."
"Ah, Jeong Jaehun."
Handshake, then silence. Jaehun had come after the "[Audition matter—meet?]" message, but why him? No connection.
"Your voluntary withdrawal. Group Sound related?"
"...How'd you—"
Woojin sipped coffee, ignoring it. "I've got bad history with them too. Wanna team up on something?"
"Uh..."
Jaehun hesitated. He didn't hate Group Sound—just wanted to screw the PD, and they were the tool. Truth? He hated his bandmates more for the push then dump. Screwing Group Sound sounded fine. Rock bottom anyway.
"Nothing that fingers me."
"Nah, just testimony. Can't offer much, but..."
Woojin's self-mocking laugh mirrored Jaehun's. Two guys with nothing left. Jaehun smiled weakly, ready to listen. Just petty jealousy at cocky high school girls. But they saw it as desperate thrashing at life's end. Life's all self-justification anyway.
"The '70s... no clue."
The four gathered at a café after early dismissal on "schedule" excuses. Starbucks coffees down, Iseo confessed after one sip.
"Isn't that obvious? We've never lived it."
"Not living it—talking its music. No need to time travel."
Frustrated by the dense kids, Myeongjeon sipped sweet coffee. Only she truly knew the '70s. Others had surface knowledge at best—Seoha from metal digs, the rest zilch.
"Born in the '70s, how old now?"
"Fifties?"
"Whoa, ancient. But listening then means teen then—70s? 60s? Super dentures."
Iseo's casual jab irked Myeongjeon. Dentures? Harsh much? At first indifferent, but net dives showed kids' slang vibes. Old = fair game. She didn't feel that ancient. Net says denial's proof, but age is mindset. Young spirit trumps old body. Plus now young body—different gender, but...
"Suyeon, you heard '70s stuff?"
"Plenty. Didn't I make you play some? The Man Who Sold the World from Juhyeon's track. is '78."
"Not many."
True. Myeongjeon scratched her head. Thought more, but nah. Should've whipped 'em into previews earlier. "Anyway, listen now. '70s spectrum's huge—pick wrong, you're sunk."
Rock history's vast. Early '70s: hard rock boom, prog/glam, punk dawn... post-blues/psych, most modern genres born. Broader? Endless. Grab anything, claim '70s, refs exist.
But she'd focus psych/prog—her jam. Inspo might be tricky...>
"What was living in the '70s like?"
Hyeona's question amid thoughts. Hm...
"Some say golden days. Grandma always 'back then was better'—neighborly, tight-knit..."
"Nah, sucked. What was good? Spotty power? TV? Black-and-white till late '70s."
Myeongjeon recalled. Well-off family (else no guitar), color TV standard. Others? B&W = rich. Toilets? Out back pits common. No apartments. Parasites, DDT sprays...
"Bedbugs everywhere last year? Daily then. DDT fogging, spreading. No fridges. School: beatings, bullying routine. Not idyllic."
Good old days? Myeongjeon thought now always beats past. No net, YouTube? Music? Beg dad for pricey imports, ear-transcribe sans recorder, iffy copies.
"Suyeon, you talk like you lived it."
"What?"
Iseo's odd look at her mutter. Seoha chimed: "Too vivid. Possession? Old soul in hospital?"
"Ha, ha... haha..."
"Horang, too many novels."
Seoha's bullseye joke. Myeongjeon laughed awkwardly as Hyeona eyed Seoha pityingly. Seoha pouted innocently.
"Not lived—just old stories say so."
"Suspicious..."
Iseo teased at flustered Suyeon—funny, not serious. Suyeon fidgeted, eyes shaky. Short lull, then inspiration hit.
Singing glory's easy. Hard times' praise too. Seems fresh, but lazy path. But songs for the crushed then? Fading souls. Who else? Just denture me.
Teens singing it? Absurd to outsiders. Whatever.