Lovesong: A Nonfiction Memoir

By Franklin Aaberg

Lovesong is the story of my love life and my relationship with Tori Amos. I'm Frankie, and this is my Lovesong.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BooxAi
• Release date: Sep 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9789655783308

Book preview

Franklin Aaberg

Lovesong

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2023 by Franklin Aaberg

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Published by BooxAI

ISBN: 978-965-578-330-8

X

LOVESONG

A NONFICTION MEMOIR

FRANKLIN AABERG

Lace

Just be cool, Ian said as he drew on his clove cigarette. 

 We were approaching the Rave. This was 1987, and raves were a new phenomenon then. The term rave conjured images of a 60’s dance party. Dressed in a mufti and paisley cap, Ian looked the part. I felt less casual in a long yellow paisley shirt and new Levi’s. I’ll do my best, I said. 

She looked familiar, standing in the light of the door. It seemed she couldn’t help but smile. She said hello when we passed. I told Ian I would see him inside. 

Ever been to one of these? I asked. Her friend, a cute blonde, rubbed up against me. It felt good to be noticed. The one with the black hair, who seemed to know me from another life, said she had never been to a rave. Have you? she asked. 

No, I said, but I like to dance. Have you heard of the City Club? 

The City’s cool, she said. 

I suppose. I like it there. They play good music, and you can more or less be yourself.  

The Hollyrock  is cool, too.  

The Hollyrock Lounge was a small dance floor in a small room that catered to the goth scene. I danced there almost every weekend. It seemed many went there just to watch, so there was always space on the floor, even though it was very small. Skinny Puppy was favored in terms of the music—guttural vocals about morbid subjects spoken to an asymmetrical beat. It was good to dance to, though I liked music with more rhythm, like a song with the Batman riff that said, I walk the line between good and evil, that they played every night. 

You should go there, I said. You’d fit in. With her long black hair and pale beauty, she would.  

She was sort of big, overweight, I guess, but that can be appealing as well. She wore clothes well, and she appealed to me. What’s your name? I asked her. 

Lace, she answered, and this is Serena.  

Ian was still there, and he asked me, You’ve got your cover, right, Frank? 

Yeah, I got it covered, I said. 

Frank. That’s your name? Lace asked. 

Franklin, really. Everyone calls me Frank, though. 

You like to be called Frank? 

"No, I like Franklin better. But everyone calls