Free The Punjabi Pappadum by Robert Newton Page B

by a guy called Tony Bennett. It’s awesome.”
    For a moment Theo sat there, running through the song in his mind, thumping out the rhythm on his knee and occasionally letting loose with some vocals.
    â€œOkay, it might work. We’ll have to play around with it, though. Any ideas on how you want to do it?”
    The three boys looked at each other and nodded.
    â€œWe want Sam singing melody,” said Travis.
    â€œWe do?” croaked Sam, nearly falling off the stool.
    â€œShe’s awesome, Theo. You should hear her. We’ll do backing vocals.”
    â€œGirl up front,” roared Theo, clapping his hands excitedly. “I like it, it’s very ballsy. Have you got the CD? Let’s hear it.”
    Soon the garage was filled with the unmistakable vocals of Tony Bennett. Underneath them, a polished backing band played it slow and tight, and very, very cool.
    â€œIt’s got potential,” mused Theo. “Way too straight though, we’ll have to groove it up.”
    â€œCan we do that?” asked Veejay.
    â€œOf course we can. Wait till I’ve finished remixing it. I’ll do something funky, then you guys can come in over the top. How’s that sound?”
    â€œSounds good, Theo,” said Travis.
    â€œOkay then. You’ll have the tape before the next rehearsals. See you then.”

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    O ver the next week, no one saw much of Ron. He was busy pushing buttons, … on the job, calling up favours and chasing contacts.
    Theo Ryan too was like a man possessed. His new arrangement of “The Way You Look Tonight” had been mixed and delivered. You had to hand it to Theo. Obsessed as he was with gold chains and baking, he sure knew his stuff when it came to music. Somehow he’d managed to get it just right without losing the familiar melody of the original song. A strong drum beat, Hammond organ and guitar injected a new quality into the song. It sounded fresher and younger but not too boppy. It was, without a doubt — DEADLY.
    â€œI thought you’d like it,” said Theo proudly. “Have you had a chance to play around with the vocals yet?”
    â€œThat’s all we’ve been doing,” replied Travis.
    â€œOkay then, let’s hear it.”
    Deadly took their positions on the stools and waited for Theo to hit “play”.
    The song was so familiar now that Sam eased into her vocals like a pro, softly tapping her thigh with the palm of her right hand. Approaching the chorus, the music grew louder, the beat snappier. In came the boys with punchy harmonies, giving the song attitude. As they progressed, swinging between verse and chorus, Theo Ryan angled his good ear forward. Another crescendo accompanied all four voices until a wailing Hammond organ signalled the end.
    Theo Ryan leapt off his seat and did the splits.
    â€œGet down!” he wailed, over the jangle of chains. “That was brilliant.”
    â€œYou really think so?” asked Sam.
    â€œI know so. There are a few timing problems and a bit of tidying up to do, but basically it’s all there.”
    The members of Deadly went completely nuts. Crashing around the garage with Veejay on his back, Dexter caught a glimpse of himself in an old mirror. Was he seeing things? Not likely. Plastered across his dial was the biggest happy smiling face he’d ever seen.
    After another week of solid practice, Deadly, Longwood’s best kept secret, were sounding slick. Theo Ryan stepped out of his new BMW and engaged the alarm. Blip! Up the driveway he danced, Michael Jackson style.
    â€œI didn’t know people actually wore cardigans any more,” said Dexter. “Not pink ones, anyway.”
    With his back to them, Theo moon-walked his way into the garage then broke into a stiff robot dance. In his own words, Theo