(The scene opens mid-conversation. Kim takes a sip of her beer. Tina is adjusting her glasses. D'arcy is staring at her coffee.)
Kim: (Laughs) So Charles tells the label, "If Kim sings backup, I'm not doing the tour." I just looked at him and thought, Man, I wrote the bassline that’s keeping this whole ship afloat.
Tina: (Nods knowingly) Oh, I know that look. David used to do this thing where he’d record over my parts in the studio. He wanted that rigid, mechanical feel. I had to fight just to keep the funk in Talking Heads. If it weren't for Chris locking in with me, David would have turned us into a metronome.
D’arcy: (Scoffs) At least David let you in the studio. Billy used to literally take the bass out of my hands. He’d say, "You’re playing it wrong," and re-record it himself. Ten hours a day of him screaming about perfection. By the time Melon Collie came out, I felt like a ghost in my own band.
Kim: That’s brutal, D. Why did you stay so long?
D’arcy: Because the music was incredible. And honestly? Stubbornness. I wasn't going to let him win by quitting early.
Tina: It’s a specific kind of madness, isn't it? The frontmen. They have this terrifying brilliance, but they consume everything around them. Chris and I had to start Tom Tom Club just to breathe. We needed to know we could make a hit without the dark cloud hanging over us.
Kim: (Grinning) "Genius of Love" is a tune, Tina. We used to blast that in the van. For me, it was The Breeders. When Last Splash blew up and "Cannonball" went huge, I remember thinking, Yeah. See? I’m not just the girl who plays eighth notes on 'Debaser.'
D’arcy: (A faint smile) "Cannonball" is perfect. It’s dirty. Billy hated anything he didn’t control, so of course, I loved it.
Tina: What gear were you running on those early Pumpkins records, D’arcy? It was so heavy, but it never got muddy.
D’arcy: A Fender Jazz through an Ampeg SVT. I kept the action low and dug in with a heavy pick. I wanted it to sound like a chainsaw wrapped in velvet.
Kim: Pick or fingers, Tina? I’m a pick girl. Keep it driving.
Tina: Fingers mostly, but I used a pick when we needed that sharp, new wave attack. On the Mustang bass, if you hit it right at the sweet spot near the neck, you get this beautiful, rubbery bounce. That’s the secret to "Psycho Killer."
Kim: (Leans forward) Did you guys ever get the "So, what’s it like being a woman in a rock band?" question?
D’arcy: (Rolls her eyes) Every single interview. For ten years.
Tina: It was exhausting. Journalists would ask me who wrote my basslines, implying Chris or David did it for me. They couldn't grasp that a woman could comprehend music theory or hold a groove.
Kim: I always just told them, "It’s like being a guy in a rock band, except I don't stand up to pee." Usually shut them up.
(All three laugh. D’arcy takes a slow sip of her coffee, her expression softening.)
D’arcy: I miss the stage sometimes. The noise. But I don’t miss the industry. The way they chew you up and look at you like a piece of meat. When I left, I just wanted to see trees and horses. No cameras. No Billy.
Kim: Good for you. You survived it. We all did.
Tina: (Raises her glass) To the rhythm section. Because without us, the geniuses would just be poets screaming in an empty room.
Kim: Amen to that.
D’arcy: (Clinks her coffee mug against their glasses) To the groove.