| When we play our guitars, we make Obsidian rock! | |
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Posted by: |
steven_stuart 10:35 pm UTC 08/02/11 |
| In reply to: | Damn Me And Curse Me For Still Needing You... - steven_stuart 10:32 pm UTC 08/02/11 |
| Another great example of Scaramouche writing an interesting musical book: Despite reading the Neverland workshop script, I've always envisaged 'All Revved Up' as a song for the Lost Boys when they first meet Wendy, therefore another 'Neverland' vision... The scene after the BOOH Redux opening (see previous post) has Peter leading Wendy by the hand, over rocks to the moonlit oceans edge. They walk on the soft 'chilly California sand', waves lapping at their feet, and in the distance Wendy sees a large beach fire burning with shadows dancing madly around to loud rock music (an extended saxophone intro of 'Revved Up' - much like Meat's Bat 3 tour opening). As they draw closer she can now see the mad shadows are in fact teenage boys in various states of (un)dress. The music softens and Peter shouts: 'Ahoy my beauties, your leader returns bearing a beautiful gift...' The boys turn & shout: 'Peter...' and as he moves to one side, a shy Wendy emerges from his shadow, and the teenage boys gasp in awe. Peter (turning to Wendy): 'Wendy, may I introduce to you, The Lost Boys!' Peter (turning to the boys): 'Boys...(softly) Wendy'. Wendy and the boys stare at each other, nothing being said. Turning to Peter, an intrigued Wendy queries: 'Lost Boys?' 'Lost from where?' 'Who are they?' Peter (now standing at side of stage) smiles: 'Well...boys?' (and indicates they should reply) The song then starts... a slightly comic (and kinky) ensemble piece for The Lost Boys. During the song they continually circle Wendy, as she twists and turns in slight fear, but excitement). We're nothing but some lonely boys, yearning for something new And you seem nothing but a lonely girl But you are something, something like our dreams come true He's a varsity tackle (one of the boys emerges from the group in a torn and cut off football jersey, and they all point at him) He's a helluva block (a tall muscular boy emerges from the group and they all point at him) And when we play our guitars, we make Obsidian rock! (one of the boys emerges from the group, soloing on a guitar) But...every Saturday night, we feel the fever grow Do ya know what it's like? All revved up with no place to go Do ya know what it's like? All revved up with no place to go An in the darkness of the steamy nights, we're revvin' in our sleep An in the middle of our red hot dreams We're always dreamin', dreamin' of a vision like you We're always out on the prowl, we're always on the attack We're the sons of a Jackal, he's the leader of our pack! (the boys point to Peter, who smiles) But...every Saturday night, oh god the fever grows D'ya wanna feel what it's like? All revved up with no place to go D'ya wanna feel what it's like? All revved up with no place to go (The boys then drop to their knees, with arms outstretched) Oh Wendy, you're an angel in our world full of demons A golden girl, burning endlessly bright You're ev'rything we've ever dreamed of, it's so surreal We're always dancing at the edge of the world We're always howling at the storms an the flood You and us 'round about midnight Rockin' with the beat, underneath the moonlight Someone's gonna draw first, draw first Someone's gonna draw first blood Someone's gonna draw first blood Oooh I gotta taste first blood (Wendy): Oooh I wanna taste first blood... We're always out on the prowl, we're always on the attack We're the sons of a Jackal, he's the leader of our pack! (the boys again point to Peter, who whips them a salute) But...every Saturday night, oh god the f-f-fever grows D'ya wanna feel what it's like? All revved up with no place to go D'ya wanna feel what it's like? All revved up with no place to go.... (The boys then take Wendy by the hands for the rock-out ending and madly circle the fire, getting faster & faster) Well we're nothing but some lonely all-American boys Looking out for someone like you And you seem nothing but a lonely all-American girl But you are something like our dreams come true He's a varsity tackle He's a helluva of a block And when we play our guitars, we make Obsidian rock! But...every Saturday night, we feel the fever grow All revved up with no place to go All revved up with no place to go All revved up with no place to go All revved up with no place to go! (As the song ends they all collapse in a heap, laughing loudly). Wendy is on top of the heap and, staring at Peter, exclaims: 'Lost Boys and their Golden Girl. We'll never ever let night's like this go to waste!' | |
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