Talulla targets LCD Soundsystem

Talulla targets LCD Soundsystem

31 March, 2007 | 4.01AM

• Section: Music News Topics: Industry Boy Blog
• Written by: Industry Boy

Whilst most well-bred, well-educated girls dream of a successful career, or getting married and having kids with a big house and a white picket fence, Industry Boy’s friend Talulla has much simpler aims in life. One – to have sex with as many people in the dance music industry as possible. Two – to someday write a novel revealing her eye opening encounters and retire off its earnings. 

Although she is a long way off from finishing her bestseller, Talulla is well on track with objective number one.

In the past year, she has bedded three Top 20 DJs, fiddled with four label managers and has caressed and groped countless VIPs and industry insiders.

However, Talulla is no industry whore. Despite the lack of effort men must make to fall into her arms, she won’t shack up with just anybody.

You have to be on the list in her little pink book. If you’re name ain’t down, you’re ain’t coming in.

Tonight, Talulla’s target is an American chap called James Murphy, co-founder of DFA Records, and the mastermind behind the rock dance outfit LCD Soundsystem.

He’s just finished his gig. “Thank you and goodnight,” says Murphy into his microphone as the crowd applauds and screams for one more.

A sweaty overenthusiastic fan tries to climb over the barrier and security rush, bundling him towards the fire exit.

Forever the opportunist, Talulla spots her chance and quietly slips through a gap in the metal fence into the backstage area.

She takes refuge in a dark corner, and quietly waits prowling like a lioness ready to pounce on her prey from behind.

“I need a drink,” says Murphy, as he and his large entourage walk straight past the dark hole where Talulla stands.

He doesn’t notice a pair of large glittering eyes staring at him. Talulla reaches into her large shoulder bag and pulls out two bottles of beer.

Always come prepared

The throng around Murphy dissipates, when he stops to chat to a bloke with headphones on, some sort of sound engineer.

Talulla moves in from behind and walks silkily past him, her white skirt gently brushes Murphy’s face as he’s tying up his shoelace.

“Hi James, you wanted a beer didn’t you?” she says, standing above James.

The angle Talulla has chosen gives Murphy a direct line of sight to her prized shaven snatch. She always goes commando.

“Er yeah, great,” he replies, standing up quickly, his cheeks going red with the sudden speed of ascent, and the fact he just saw up this strange English girl’s skirt.

He grabs a bottle, smiles, and then waits. “Oh sorry, I couldn’t find an bottle opener,” she says.

It was a direct ploy, designed to massage Murphy’s male ego – all men can open beer bottles without an opener, at least all real men.

“Damn, don’t you just hate that? Do you remember when you were at school and all the cool kids could open a bottle using just a lighter?” Murphy says, grinning and reaching into his jacket pocket.

He brings out a purple plastic lighter. “Now I can’t do this, but we might as well try.”

Murphy attempts to jack the bottle lid a few times, by grabbing it tightly and leveraging the lighter against his index finger. He tries again to no avail.

“Here let me have a go,” says Talulla. She was getting impatient now, and time was running out.

If they failed to get the beers open, her time with Murphy would be short. Talulla wrenched wildly at the bottle, aggressively applying pressure to the lid.

Eventually it pops, and beer froth spews out. She quickly hands the beer to Murphy, who sucks away at the bubbles, attempting to limit the spillage.

A few seconds later, the other bottle has been popped.

“Cheers,” she says, chinking bottles with Murphy and taking a swig.

“So do you work for Mandy?” asks James, a little confused about the good Samaritan who comes bearing gifts.

“To be honest,” says Talulla, “I snuck backstage to come and use the toilet.”

“You know your knuckles are bleeding,” says James, taking Talulla’s elbow, and lifting her arm up towards the light. “Holy shit, it’s badly cut.”

I don’t have time to bleed

“Yeah, it’s only a small cut,” says Talulla coolly, tossing her hair with her free hand. She hadn’t even noticed.

“No seriously, it’s not going to stop bleeding,” presses James Murphy, now turning away from Talulla in search of someone who can help.

“It’s absolutely fine darling, don’t worry about it” says Talulla, wincing quietly as Murphy starts pulling her arm towards a group of people on the stage.

“Mandy, can you get this girl’s hand looked at, she’s cut herself,” says James loudly.

A redhead with a clipboard comes scurrying out of the shadows.

Before Talulla has time to protest or rescue the situation, Murphy is gone, lost in a sea of admirers and hangers-on.

And Talulla is stuck in a pond with a concerned stranger.

Like a wounded lioness, Talulla skulks back into the concrete jungle, licking her wounds.

She goes hungry tonight.

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