Danny did not listen well to the advice. Or did not want to. At sixteen you do not want balance. You want destiny.

He started buying records with mania. Beatles, Berry, Buddy Holly, Little Richard, Elvis from back when he was still dangerous and not just a name printed on lunch boxes and shirts. He would sit for hours in front of the turntable and lower the needle as if beginning a service. Spin the record. Lift the guitar. Stop. Again. Again. First he learned to imitate. The walk onstage from television. The jerk of the shoulder. The way you hold a note half a second longer so it feels as if something is burning behind it.