A Double-Edged E.
"Slowly? You waited five years," I say.
Robert is in shock. Kristina can't suppress a laugh, can't hide her blushing cheeks. I throw my fist in the air and put on a face.
"So, at this point in the song, E., are you pouring beer all over yourself?" I ask.
"Kicking stuff off the stage?" Robert adds.
"Blowing fire?" Kristina laughs, blushes.
After what we heard this morning, Elizabeth is no longer E., can no longer be E. "Elizabeth" is too safe, too managing editor-ish, for this lady. "Elizabeth" doesn't howl like this, doesn't shriek like this. Elizabeth's weapon is a red pen, not a mic stand.
"Damn, E, you've got a little Pat Benatar thing going on there," Robert notes.
"Yeah, well," she admits, "it was the 80s."
"Pat Benatar fronting Slayer," Robert amends.
"Yes!" Elizabeth (or whatever her name is) responds.
It's like Neko Case singing for Heart. It's E.
You're playing at life
Oh oh oh
It's a double-edged knife
Yeah yeah yeah
"John is going to have a fit."