Original subtitles

Clifton Hangar, "Revolver Magazine."

I know who you are.

I'm glad you finally...

granted this interview.

I... appreciate you trusting me with this.

Mind if I record this?

Knock yourself out.

Thanks, Spyder.

Thanks.

So what have you been doing with yourself

for the past 20 years?

If you're gonna ask stupid fucking questions, kid,

this will be the shortest interview of your career.

We both know why you're here.

You're on the inside.

So why don't we just get on with it, huh?

Eric Genson.

This...

bullshit about a third record.

So there really is no third Soulz record?

Who was Eric Genson?

Where do you want me to start?

Maybe the beginning of the end, huh?

Okay.

Let's try it one more time.

Except let's try it a bit...

sotto voce.

Three and four and...

Have a nice day, Mr. Genson.

They sound great.

I remember playing that same shit song

in this classroom about 15 years ago.

Best part about playing those plastic dildos

was lining them up on the curb at the end of the year

and... smashing them.

Do you remember that?

Why are you here?

What kind of a welcome home is that, huh?

Huh?

You mind?

Go for it.

See...

I travel 3,000 miles,

this is the kind of welcome I get.

Eric?

Eric?

Hey!

Girl: Thanks, Mr. Rivers.

Eric!

Hold up for a second.

Why don't we...

We'll go out and we'll get hammered like old times, huh?

I can't, I'm working.

- What are you doing here? - Come on, get out of here.

What's going on here, Mr. Genson?

- Spyder... - Nothing, he was just leaving.

Can I have an autograph, please?

Excuse me, can I help you with something?

Yeah, I do believe you can.

What'd you have in mind?

Herman... oh, my God.

I'll see you at the staff meeting.

Yes, you will.

Don't you want to keep me after school?

I always liked detention.

- Hey, where... - Oh, God.

Eric!

Good to see you, too, bro.

So this used to be considered punk?

Yeah, I guess.

I don't know.

I was wandering if you'd sign my Soulz poster for me?

Absolutely.

By the way, you've, uh,

blossomed into a... fucking hot chick.

Yeah, thanks.

I mean, it's been what, like...

Seven years.

- Hey! - Hey!

Big-time rock star doesn't have a fancier place

to dine this evening?

Hey, Stove Top Stuffing.

Eric, of course I'm staying.

Great.

So... what brings you back?

I missed this guy.

And, of course, your amazing cooking.

Liza.

Well, we all missed you around here.

Oh, shit.

Hello.

Hey.

No, uh...

Why are you in a tow truck?

Yeah.

Because it's the suburbs... I don't know.

No, no, no, the Vette's parked out front.

Just keep going.

Keep going.

Perfect.

This is the last time you do this to me.

I've had it already, Spyder.

I want to get back to LA.

Next time, I take the car

and you can hitch a ride with the village idiot, okay?

Rose Atropos.

Manager of The Lost Soulz.

Come sit.

Well.

- I'm Liza. - Nice to meet you.

Oh, come on.

Welcome!

Can I get you something to eat?

Just coffee.

Black, would be awesome.

I was gonna take Rose here to the old chill spot.

Remember the pier?

I thought we could, uh, catch up, yeah?

DJ: Hey, this is Roger Luce hanging out with you.

WBAB Babylon.

We thank everyone in Syosset for showing the world

they love rock and roll.

- Hey, Eric! - Spyder?

- What are you doing? - Relax.

Hey!

Wow!

Asshole.

Pretty hot piece of ass, huh?

Hey.

Yeah, we're here.

So your dad's car still fucking moves, huh?

God.

How many beers do you think we drank out here, huh?

Figure 24 times...

Remember that pizza kid we used to pay 20 bucks

to deliver a $10-case to your house?

Fucking thief.

Always had money though from playing shows, right?

Yeah, we did.

Yeah, you remember that?

We were gonna buy a VW bus

and drive to LA with our demo.

Support ourselves playing shows along the way.

You wanted to do that bullshit Route 66 trip

all the way to California.

Rock and roll's the bastard son of the blues, man.

Yeah.

So you been playing?

Sometimes.

With who?

A few guys here and there... you don't know 'em.

"A few guys here and there."

Bullshit!

You haven't been playing with anybody but yourself

in that piss-ass little basement of yours.

Here we go.

- What? - What is this?

What's going on?

We're hanging out now?

What do you want?

We are... making a third Soulz record.

We need a guitarist.

The plane leaves for LA tomorrow.

We start recording in two weeks.

I knew it.

You knew it? Knew what?

So what happened?

You milked and twisted our demo for all it was worth

and now you need me to write some more songs for you?

- God! - Huh?

You're still on that fucking

musical high horse of yours, huh?

I'm giving you a fucking chance, Eric.

- I'm throwing you a bone. - Oh.

Well, I just said no.

By the way, is "Hot Cross Buns"

considered a blues classic?

Yeah.

You have until tomorrow to decide.

"Snake Oil" was the biggest-selling debut

rock album of all time.

Did you steal those songs?

Good artists... copy.

The great artists steal.

Some of the greatest rock songs of all time,

they were stolen.

Plucked from obscurity.

Made immortal, even.

Your point?

Without me, none of those songs would have...

They would have stayed locked in that basement.

Chip was dead 20 years when I got back.

He needed to get the fuck over it.

It sounds like you spent a lot of time in that house.

What about you?

Did you know Chip, were you a fan?

I knew him.

We were seven when he died.

Of course, I'm a fan.

Who hasn't been influenced by the Hawks?

I mean, I suppose it's different, though,

when the guitar hero banging dope is your old man.

# Ain't no finer boy in town #

# You're my guy just what the doctor ordered #

# Taste so sweet you make my mouth water #

# I want candy #

Goddamn it, Chip.

Young man...

Come on, come on.

Oh, fuck, wait, hold on.

Eric?

Oh, shit.

Hey, Eric, what's up?

Eric?

Can you help me out, please?

Come on, man, please.

Everybody out!

Every fucking time.

Clear out of here!

Ladies and gentlemen, The Hawks!

Hello, New York!

He's come for you, hasn't he?

When are you leaving?

Look at that face, huh?

Will you be all right?

She'll be fine, Eric.

All right.

Well... see you, kid.

Look who's here.

Let's go, Teach.

Let's get out of here.

Oh, and I'm not wearing any of that fucking makeup.

Why are you here?

You didn't tell him.

Tell him what?

Uh, Spyder, you remember Augie, right?

Yeah, yeah, so what?

He's driving.

I'm sorry... Driving?

- Are you fucking kidding me? - Yeah.

You want your record, we take that trip.

What?

You need my songs.

We do it my way or we don't do it at all.

Route 66.

Fuck, this is ridiculous.

Back up, back up.

What do you mean by "a change of plans"?

I'm coming out, I'm coming out.

What?

Surprise.

What the fuck is this?

- Get in. - Get in?

I thought you said you could get this guy.

We do get this guy, all right?

Come here, come here, come here,

come here, come here...

Have you fucking lost your mind?

We have to be at the airport, Spyder, in one hour.

One hour!

And the limo's on it's way.

No airports, no nothing, okay?

This is our fucking limo.

That's funny.

What is that piece of shit?

I'm not getting in that piece of shit.

What the fuck do you want me to do, Rose?

You're fucking crazy!

What the fuck do you want me to do, okay?

We have two weeks, we have no songs.

What do you want me to do?

All right, ladies.

In three notes, can you name this tune?

Spyder, who is this guy?

Don't ask.

We were traveling west in a covered wagon

across the country.

I played Madison Square Garden,

for fuck's sake, you know.

And Rose...

was pissed.

I mean, you got August West at the wheel

and the prospect of this great adventure before you.

Fuck adventure.

I needed a record's worth of songs...

in two weeks,

or the record label was gonna... drop me.

And where does this clown take us?

Hey, Eric, wait a second.

Oh, my God.

I've, uh...

Wow.

Waited, uh...

waited a long time for this.

A long time.

- Holy shit, Augie. - Really.

It's in tune.

Yeah.

Oh, man.

- What's this? - What?

It's Vicodin.

Don't go through my shit, man.

Are you fucking kidding me?

- Are you kidding me?! - What's the big deal, man?

Careful!

You're not my fucking dad, okay?

No, I'm not your fucking father.

I...

I just can't do this again.

It's not that big of a deal.

It's under control, man.

Fuck!

- Jesus Christ! - God, man.

How about another beer, guys?

It's on me.

Come on, you want a shot?

- Have a shot. - Thanks, darling.

What'll it be, honey?

Have a shot of whiskey.

Coming right up.

What are you guys doing here?

I don't know, ask him.

Yo, where the fuck are we anyway?

Scranton.

Look at this fucking place.

Yo, man, can this guy even fucking play?

One time me and my three friends stole my mom's car

to go see these guys at The Spectrum in Philly.

We had to drive the whole way

in January with the windows open

because the damn car had a leaky gas line.

We nearly froze our asses off.

Cool.

Can I get another?

Who's the new guy?

He's hot.

- Can I meet him? - Sure.

Fuck!

Been one of those days?

It's been one of those years.

Yeah, yeah, that's it.

- Like that. - Cool.

Just follow me.

# It's goin' down #

# In Tinseltown #

# Circus is here #

# Children gather around #

# We were lost #

# But everybody's found tonight #

# Go get the girls #

# In black and pearls #

# Drivin' daddy's Jag to the top of the world #

# Down in the valley #

# The stars will never shine so bright #

# Every neon night burns away #

# Everything's so cold in the light of day #

# Turn me on #

# Turn me on #

# Like a neon light that never fade away #

Ow!

# Every neon night #

# Burns away #

# Turn me on #

# Turn me on #

# Like a neon light #

# Turn me on #

# Turn me on #

# Like a neon light #

# That never fades away ##

That's how those songs were meant to be played.

That was fucking awesome, man.

I knew the second Eric played that ukulele of his

that Rose would swoon like a little schoolgirl.

It was always like that.

He could play one note

and get all the sweet young things he wanted.

They'd line up,

drop their pretty little panties for him.

You loved her?

Who?

Rose.

Please.

She was just another hot piece of ass.

Don't print that.

Yeah...

All right, girls, time for our favorite road game.

Name it.

"You Don't Have To Be A Star (To Be In My Show)."

Marilyn McCoo and Billy Davis, Jr.

# You don't have to be a star baby #

Perfect.

# To be in my show #

- Oh, your show? - Yeah.

Now we have the fucking "Donny and Marie Show."

# You don't have to be a star baby #

Oh, I used to love this song.

Yeah, yeah, not anymore, obviously.

Where the fuck are we?

Ohio.

What the fuck's in Ohio?

There's a farm.

Breakfast.

Breakfast.

No, no, no, this is a fucking truck stop.

They got great showers, though.

You want a token?

No, thank you.

You could use a shower, dude.

How are those eggs?

Cold.

Well, hot damn.

I feel like a bright new shiny penny.

So what's the plan, Augie?

The plan is I'm tired and I want a rest

so I'm gonna go back to the RV.

And what the fuck are we supposed to do, huh?

Well, they have a groovy video-game-room thing.

And go play some Space Invaders

or Planetoids or hemorrhoids.

I suppose you have tokens for that, too?

No, you're on your own.

I would light that ass up, I'll tell ya.

Millstone.

Hey, Ace, it's Rose, hi.

I can barely hear you.

Where are you?

You were supposed to be back here days ago

with that fucking money pit

you call a band.

Yep, we're actually... we're on the road now.

So, um, we'll be heading back to you shortly.

In two weeks I wash my hands of you

and that cokehead boyfriend of yours.

- He's not my boyfriend. - Whatever.

It's been over a year.

Where's my fucking songs?

You will have your songs.

Two weeks!

Two weeks!

Bye.

Goddamn truck-stop food, huh?

You're great.

I spoke to Ace.

And?

And he's a fucking asshole.

If we don't get back to LA,

get in the studio with some songs,

we can kiss the fucking record deal good-bye,

the advance good-bye... everything, okay?

We're done, finished.

You don't think I fucking know this?

Why the fuck do you think I'm dragging your ass

all the way across the country?

Hey.

Rosie?

Hey.

I mean, I already brought you back to that

godforsaken place, and what do we get, huh?

This.

Fucking beautiful.

Good morning, my little pretties.

You're melting, you're melting.

Ah, here come our fellow travelers.

Fireworks, baby.

Yeah, load up, guys.

We gotta get to Chicago.

What the fuck's in Chicago?

Chicago is where Route 66 begins.

Ta-da!

Let's load 'em up.

Truck stops.

Fucking Route 66.

Now we got... "Name That Tune."

Are you fucking kidding me?

Fuck!

By the way, how's your writing going, maestro?

Lovebirds.

You fucking make me sick!

Whoa.

Route 66 was officially taken off the map in 1985.

I was on this dysfunctional family road trip

headed to a road that didn't even exist anymore.

He telling me we chose our own fate.

Our destiny.

Come on.

All right, my pretties.

It's time for our favorite game.

No, no, no.

We're not playing this fucking game anyone!

You know what?

Try me one more time, try me.

Okay, hold on, hold on, here we go.

Um...

Professor Rock up here.

Shut the fuck up!

- Shut up! - Come on, man, get it right!

- Get one right! - We're waiting, Professor.

Fuck, I know this one.

Um...

Neil Young, that's who it is.

It's Neil Young.

Whatever, fuck your game.

Don't you know any music, Spyder?

It's America.

I'm sorry, Rose, I'm sorry.

I should have fucking known that.

It's America.

My dial's not tuned in to the adult contemporary version

of my fucking stereo.

I'm really sorry.

Oh, adult contemporary music.

- Whoa. - He got you, Augie.

That's pretty heavy.

Hey, Spyder.

It's America!

Check it out.

I always seemed to end up in the front seat

next to that guy.

Looking back, I don't really know

what I was searching for up there.

Make a right up here.

Why?

'Cause I'm not sleeping in this piece-of-shit RV again.

Oh, whatever you want, little lady.

What, do you want a shot?

Two best friends right here.

So, um, what... what...

So what about this chick?

Have you seen Spyder?

No, not since we checked in.

I'm gonna play this song for him.

What the fuck are you looking at?

Huh?

You and your "everything's gonna be okay" happy pills.

What are you up to now, like 20 a day?

How long have you had that habit, huh, Eric?

So what, I do a little blow every now and then.

Get fucking over it!

Quit looking at me like that!

I'm... I just wanted to play you the new song

I was working on, but...

Fuck.

Fuck.

Where's Spyder?

Uh, he's busy.

Fuck him, come on.

Look at yourself.

Broken, mangled.

You freak.

Not now, not now.

Leave me the fuck alone!

He was right.

You are a loser.

You never amounted to shit.

Fuck off!

You missed.

My face...

My skull...

No talent, no family, no friends.

I have friends.

I have friends.

Oh, yeah?

Why don't you name one

that you haven't stabbed in the back or fucked over.

It's okay, I'll wait.

Where do you think you're going?

Uh...

No?

Hey... hey, man, you wanna...

you want to get down from there so we can talk?

What are you doing, man?

It's all right, man.

Come...

I went to go see him when I was at home.

Easy, man.

I couldn't do it.

I couldn't do it.

I got this for my 18th birthday.

Pops decided to toast life on my face that night.

Over there by those stairs.

So you're estranged from your parents?

He's dead.

The only thing he gave me was this, uh...

...beautiful face and this house.

I never knew my mother.

She was, um...

smart enough to get out.

She left when I was... when I was...

What the fuck is this?

This is why I don't do interviews.

Don't...

Don't print any of this.

We're supposed to be talking about

the road trip and Eric.

How about we talk about the third album?

- Fuck! - Where is it?

Enough.

You're wasting my time.

You're wasting your time on...

...on this for ten years.

Oh, am I wasting your time?

Huh?

Where were we?

Shoot!

Thank God.

Hand me the eight-track, please.

What?

The eight-track.

What the fuck is this?

It's an antique.

It's a fucking classic, man.

Shit.

Dorkwad.

Guess Who.

I already told you, I'm not playing this

fucking game anymore.

No, the band Guess Who.

Come on, man.

- Come on! - Come on!

Come on, I'll show you mine!

- Come on! - Come on!

- Come on! - Yeah!

Whoo!

Whoo!

Yeah, rock and roll!

Fuck you!

You know your music.

Uh, yeah, why do you sound so surprised?

Oh, I took you for one of those

could-be, wanna-be record producers,

arrangers, managers...

know-nothing-about-music types.

No offense.

All right, no, that's interesting.

'Cause I, uh...

I kind of took you as an over-the-hill,

really dirty old man

who has overstayed his welcome in the industry

just a little too long,

and, you know, hangs out with younger kids.

Catches a glimpse of "T" and "A" when you can.

I mean, no offense.

No offense taken.

If I didn't love the music, man...

I wouldn't be here.

Yeah.

What is he doing?

Spyder, what the fuck are you doing?

What the fuck's wrong with you?

- Fuck you! - Fuck off!

Spyder!

Just having a bit of fun.

That's not the fucking Boy Scouts.

Pull over now!

So ridiculous.

You're a bunch of fucking pansy-ass,

leather-wearing pussies!

Damn it!

Whoo!

Fuck you!

You're fucking kidding me right now!

Suck my dick, you fucking loser!

Cocksucker!

Whoo!

Fuck you!

Whoo!

Goddamn motherfucker!

Oh...

You're fucked!

Everybody get down!

Cocksucker!

Hang on!

What the fuck are you thinking?

You're a moron, grow up.

That's not fucking funny, man.

Jesus Christ.

Oh, Eric, why don't you go sit down and play guitar?

Oh, my God!

Augie, what are we doing here?

Visiting.

Visiting who?

An old friend.

Here we go again!

Ah shit, we're gonna die.

Augie, what's going on, who lives here?

An old flame.

She loved me.

What's your business here, motherfucker!

Well...

let's see how I can rectify this.

It's me.

It's Augustus, Maggie.

Of course, I know it's you, you rat bastard.

Why do you think I'm firing?

I'd recognize that piece-of-shit RV

in a trailer park full of 'em.

Aw, come on.

Maggie, that's... that's the peerless Rita.

She's a classic.

Uh, uh, now, Maggie...

My little pearl of light.

"Pearl of light."

My ass!

What do you want and need from me, Augie?

Don't tell me.

There's a band in there.

And you want to, like, you know... crash.

I'm not a cook.

Maggie, it's the peerless Rita.

How could I fit a band in there?

Please.

It's good to see you again, Margaret.

You... bastard.

That's pretty rough, Maggie.

You're really driving across country

in that thing with all these guys?

Yep.

It's not so bad, though.

They're all a bunch of pussycats.

I've dealt with much worse.

Haven't we all?

You got a window blown out in my Airstream.

Now if you want to entertain yourself

with a big rush or even kill yourself,

do it on your own fucking time.

What is this, huh?

Some kind of intervention?

Once you've lightened up on the sauce,

you think the party's over, huh?

There's nothing worse than a reformed whore.

Just don't violate the cardinal rule,

and you'll be all right.

- Oh, yeah? - Mm-hmm.

So what's the cardinal rule?

Never get your emotions involved,

and they can't hurt you.

Oh, I know.

I know all about that.

Fucking waste of space.

What?

Would you lay off him?

He's driving us across the country.

Are you fucking kidding me?

You know what, fuck you, I'm out of here.

Fuck you, too.

Asshole.

Spyder, where are you going?

Just let him go.

I'm gonna go inside

so I can finish working on this song.

Hey.

What you writing?

Just some song.

What's your song about?

Play it for me.

Are you scared?

Chip's kid.

- Wow. - Yeah.

I remember running around with you guys.

It was... just like it was yesterday.

I think I'm really falling for you.

Did you hear what I said to you?

It's that Spyder dude.

Wow, he's a...

He's unpredictable.

You're calling someone unpredictable.

Man, now you sound old.

It must have been really cool growing up in...

...in your dad's house.

Well, it wasn't.

What?

Now, what are you talking about?

Oh, man...

Your dad was a punk-rock legend.

A legend?

Yeah, it's real hard to play three fucking chords.

Three fucking chords?

Three fucking chords.

You're...

That was great music.

Look, I said I didn't want to talk about it, okay?

Are you okay?

What's wrong?

Honey, what's wrong?

Eric?

Has anyone seen Spyder?

Oh, hey.

No, he, um...

he didn't come back.

All right, I'm gonna go look for him.

You want to take the truck?

Thanks.

Get in!

Fuck off!

What the fuck is your problem?

I don't have a problem.

I don't know what the fuck you're talking about.

Okay, fine.

You want to know what?

You want to know what my fucking problem is?

- Yeah, I do. - You, you.

You fucking Shanghai me, my band.

Take me on this fucking old-school road trip.

And for what, huh?

For your songs, for your blessed songs.

Well, you know what, fuck you.

I don't need your fucking songs.

- Oh, you don't? - I don't need them!

Somehow I think you do need them, you fuck.

What was "Snake Oil," huh?

The biggest rock debut album of all time.

Who wrote those songs, huh?

Yeah, I wrote those songs.

So you put on some fucking makeup and added a dance beat.

Don't... I wrote those songs.

Those were my songs!

What difference does it make, huh?

What difference does it make?

You bitched out!

You bitched out!

You would've sat in that fucking basement of yours

and done nothing with it.

I took them, I fucking made those songs.

I made them!

So what happened on your second album?

With all of your fucking songs, huh?

It sucked!

By all accounts!

- Everyone hated it! - Fuck you, fuck you!

You didn't have my demo to steal that from.

Did you?

And I never said anything!

You were on the cover of every fucking magazine!

My songs were on every radio station!

You didn't want to come!

You didn't want to come with me!

You left me!

I... I would have gone.

Bullshit.

I would have!

I would have.

That's bullshit.

- That is fucking bullshit. - No!

If you would have just waited, I would have...

That is...

That is bullshit because your mother would've never let you

fucking follow in your dad's footsteps.

Are you kidding me?

She never let you five feet away from her fucking titty!

What did you just say to me?

Don't you fucking talk about my dad

or my fucking mom!

Enough, enough!

Get in the fucking truck, Herman.

Finally.

You're still a pussy.

I kicked your ass.

Are you two boys just gonna stand there all night?

Why don't you come on in,

get yourselves a drink?

Hey.

What's up there, mama?

It's a nice place you got here.

What can I get you?

Uh... shit, I'm thinking beer.

Uh, Budweiser and a shot of Jack.

- Bud? - Yeah.

Uh...

Actually, I asked for...

Never mind.

So, this is a blues joint, huh?

A real blues joint?

Mm-hmm.

If you really want to hear the blues,

I mean, really hear the blues,

you give this kid a guitar.

This guy lives and breathes the blues.

The blues?

Is that so?

That's a fact.

Spyder.

No, don't listen to him.

Hey, Sonny Boy.

Yes, Ma'am?

You hear that?

He says this cat can play us the blues.

Spyder, what are you doing?

No, don't listen to him.

He doesn't know what he's talking about.

I mean, look at him.

Payback's a bitch.

Three notes, can you play that tune?

You know what, Miss Candy,

for some strange reason,

I kind of... I kind of believe

this little Frankenstein-looking white boy.

Thank you.

Asshole.

We got the blues this morning!

That's good.

Can I get another one of those?

Mr. Pinetop Perkins

got some blues for you this morning.

You okay?

Yeah, what is that?

Oh, my God, dude.

Uh-oh.

All right, here you go.

Let's see what you got.

Go on now.

What are you boys doing in here?

Bring it with you when you come, son.

Where you all from?

Uh...

Far, far away.

Thank you.

Hey, uh, Spyder.

Get up here, you're gonna do it, too.

Nope.

Does anyone want that guy to come up here and sing?

Oh, hell, yes.

Give him a chance.

No, no, no.

Let's see what you can do, Spyder.

So, what the fuck am I supposed to do, huh?

Uh...

It's okay, son.

Just like playing with your friends.

Hey, uh...

"Train Kept A-Rollin"'?

Sweet, Aerosmith.

- Aero-who? - Aerosmith?

- What? - Tiny Bradshaw, homey.

All right, ready?

# Aboard a train #

# I met a dame #

# She kinda handsome #

# We kinda looked the same #

# She was pretty #

# From New York City #

# Walking down that lane #

# I'm in heat #

# I'm in love #

# But I just couldn't tell her so #

They're all right.

Burn, baby, burn!

# I said the train kept a-rollin' #

# All night long #

# I said the train kept a-rollin' #

# All night long #

One more round.

# But I just couldn't tell her no #

All right.

Yeah.

# I said the train kept a-rollin' #

# All night long #

# I said the train kept a-rollin' #

# All night long #

# I'm in heat #

# I'm in love ##

Did you see me?

Did that really just happen?

Oh my God!

Hello!

Hi!

Uh-oh.

Where were you?

Huh?

I've been sitting here all night.

- Uh-oh. - Huh?

Looks like somebody's got an old lady.

But you didn't miss me, Rosie?

- No, not at all, asshole. - No?

- No. - Oh, no.

Fuck off.

What the fuck, Eric?

- What, what are you... - What's going on?

- I mean, what? - Yeah, yeah, uh...

I don't get it.

I don't get it either.

I don't... I don't understand.

Eric.

Don't deal with this, then.

Fucker.

Rita's rolling right after breakfast, guys.

Oh, boy.

Oh, I fucked up.

I fucked up.

You really thought Aerosmith wrote "Train Kept A-Rollin"'?

I already told you.

Eric was the blues guy and music freak.

The one with all the knowledge.

But something happened on the stage that night.

Magic.

Like we were supposed to

find that joint and have that experience.

After that, things just...

fell into place.

# Blackout in the basement #

# There's noise in the garage #

# Been drowned in sound and vision #

# Was it only a mirage? #

# And keep my head out of the sand #

# I see you as you are #

# Me I'm here on solid ground #

# And you in darkness #

# Floating like a star #

# You drifted too far #

# Without you #

# I slip and fall #

# But I won't crawl #

# Break down the wall #

# With or without you #

# One more drink #

# It's not what you think #

# I'm gone in a blink #

# With or without you #

# Slip and fall #

# And I won't crawl #

- Fuck you! - Fuck!

# I'll ride around this fucking world #

# I'll drive a million miles #

# But home is always in my head #

# A lost forgotten child #

# Another place another pretty face #

# Whatever I can find #

# Some temporary ecstasy #

# To help me lose my mind #

# When your star don't shine #

# Without you #

# I slip and fall #

# But I won't crawl #

# Break down the wall #

# With or without you #

# One more drink #

# It's not what you think #

# I'm gone in a blink #

# With or without you #

# Get what you give #

# It's my time to live #

# Yeah man #

# It's my time #

# Without you #

# Listen #

# Without you #

# I'm going #

# I'm going #

# I'm going #

# I'm gonna run #

# Without you #

# I slip and I fall #

# But I won't crawl #

# Break down the wall #

# With or without you #

# One more drink #

# It's not what you think #

# I'm gone in a blink #

# Now I'm without you #

# Slip and fall #

# But I won't crawl #

# I got it all #

# With or without you #

# You get what you give #

# It's my time to live ##

I did New York to LA in 51 hours.

That's insane.

Steinbeck said that nature put a desert

in front of California to test a man.

Test what?

His will.

To see if he was good enough to get to California.

Why are we stopping?

Because I need to rest.

So you really knew Jimi Hendrix, huh?

Yeah.

Cafe Wha? Days.

Oh, thanks, man.

Do you know we're missing a huge part

of the human story?

No, I didn't know, no.

Like we're living in a massive case of amnesia.

What?

No, l... are we free?

I don't know.

Do we know who we are?

Y'know, where we came from?

Spyder, what are you talking about?

No, are we free?

Or are we just in a...

prison, a fucking prison, you know?

With no bars and no walls.

Nothing.

Just this...

distraction.

This distraction from distraction

from the fucking distraction.

That's what I think.

What... what did Maggie put in this shit?

I'm going to bed.

You all right?

Yeah.

Get some sleep.

Sweet dreams.

Good night, Spyder.

That's good.

- Let's get out of here. - It's a full moon.

Toodle-oo.

Toodle-oo.

Okay, so play me a song.

Okay.

Yeah, I got a song for you.

# It's a lonely planet joy when #

# You bring the songs from the other boys #

# That's right #

# I'm a lonely planet boy #

# And I'm trying #

# Baby for your love #

# Whoa, whoa, whoa yeah #

# You pick me up #

# You're out driving in your car #

# When I tell you where I'm going #

# You're always telling me it's too far #

# But how could you be driving #

# Down by my home #

# When you know that I ain't got one #

# And I'm #

# I'm so all alone ##

Yay, I love that song.

So we made the mythic journey.

Eric got what he wanted.

And you?

Did you get what you wanted?

# Sweet rock candy #

# Sweet rock candy ##

And that's all she wrote.

Beautiful, guys, really great.

Thank you so much, man.

It's been... I can't believe it.

A pleasure, baby, pleasure.

- Eric... Eric. - Yeah?

Come here for a second, I gotta show you something.

Come on.

This is for you.

- Are you kidding me? - Nope.

Do you like it?

Like it?

It's fucking beautiful.

Where did you get this?

I got some guy, you know.

- You got some guy? - Hop in.

Go on, open it up, it's right there.

Oh, my God.

This is mine?

Yep.

Oh, my God.

All right, you get out of here, okay?

- PCH awaits. - Oh, my God.

I mean, you're gonna be at my party tonight, right?

- My place? - Yeah.

I mean, I'll check my, uh...

Fucking dickhead.

Here.

Uh...

Thanks, Eric.

Thank you.

Get the fuck out of here, asshole.

All right.

Go on.

Oh, God.

That sounds nice.

# Baby when I watch you walk #

# Make me wanna weep #

# Oh babe the way you talk #

# It keeps me from my sleep #

# I want your sweet rock candy #

# I can't barely stand it #

# Come on over come see what I got #

# Come on over baby I'm running hot #

# Please, please honey #

# Be my baby #

# Be my baby #

# Sweet, sweet honey #

# Be my baby #

# Be my baby ##

Nice view.

No!

Los Angeles!

So la-ta!

Oh, hey.

So good.

Excuse you, party boy.

Of course, it's good.

It's the pink stuff.

Pure uncut.

Nothing says you're back on top like pink cocaine.

Oh, we're back on top.

Why?

Because of me.

Rosie is on it.

That's right, hits for days,

hits for days.

My baby's wrote a hit.

A hit.

So proud.

So proud.

- I told you, didn't I? - What?

That I'd take care of you.

I take care of you.

I took care of you.

Guys.

I'll take care of you right now.

- What? - Fuck it.

I said, fuck it.

- Not this again. - Oh, yes.

It's been so long, baby.

Here, give me some.

Oh.

Bad, you're bad, you're bad, you're bad.

What so-la top?

Yeah, yeah, yeah!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!

Yeah, good time.

Oh, man.

This is unbelievable.

Have you guys seen Spyder?

Yeah, he's in the back over there.

- That way? - Yeah.

Ow!

Okay, okay, I got it!

Look...

Look.

- Oh, fuck. - Oh, God.

Eric.

Eric, it...

Eric!

Eric.

- Oh, fuck. - Oh...

Tell him.

Oh, fuck, Eric!

Yeah!

Eric!

He made me.

- Eric! - What's up?

Wait, wait, wait, Eric!

What the fuck's going on?

Well?

Now what the fuck did you do?

Answer me, asshole!

What the fuck did you do now?

Get in the house.

Go in the fucking house!

Fuck!

Fucked up, fucked up!

You really like him.

And here we are.

Here we are.

If you listen very carefully...

pay attention to the notes...

the sound...

they way he...

the fingers sliding up and down the strings...

it's like there's a...

eulogy buried in every blues song.

Did you really think that you could just

run away from all this?

I invited you here, didn't I?

In my home.

Didn't I?

And why did you call me here?

When no one's seen or heard from you in, what, 20 years?

Is there a third album?

Who was Eric Genson?

He was like my brother.

And then he was gone.

Just like that.

And I...

And I read, and I read...

No answers.

None.

All the great ones died at 27.

Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin,

Brian Jones, Kurt Cobain,

Jim Morrison, Robert Johnson.

Most men live lives of quiet desperation

and go to the grave with the song still in them.

You take those.

Please.

Okay.

Cliff...

Thank you.