Ah yes, playing live. I do it so rarely lately. I've been trying to build my confidence and chops by just jumping on stage at open mics where ever I can find them. One great place to experiment was Club Helsinki in Great Barrington. It is the coolest New York City club stashed in the Berkshires. I spent my last night with Connie in this little club.
This was my second night there since Connie. The first night was the night after I quit my job. The job was making me miserable. I had gained weight and if I didn't shave it bald I imagine I would have been going bald. You can only fight corporate America for so long.
I got there early (7:00 7:15ish) so I could sign up. If you sign in early you can get on stage early and disappear. The open mic starts at 8. I like to be there and gone by 8:30 I like this option just in case my set sucks.
Last night I signed up at 7:55 and wasn't scheduled for my ten minute set until 11. I would get to go on only if someone didn't show up. What a difference 40 minutes makes!
Depending on the night you go and who is running things there is a guitar, amp, drum set, and bass amp all on stage for you. I've been playing it solo. Scary sh*t, man. You are forced to know your game or walk. There are a few people who know it and it shows and there are those who should walk. I've had my nights were it's time to walk so I take nothing to chance.
The best act of the night was the first act. His name was Ben. The kid, maybe 13 or 14, was young and it was his first time playing out in public. His whole family was there. Some of the tunes were a bit rough but he stuck it out. He took the mistakes and just carried on. You could see that he was terrified but he just kept going. There was potential. There was that wide-eyed passion you can remember when you first did something you loved.
The second act was a spoken word. I'm convinced the name of his set was 'Would You Fuck Me?'. He seemed to have this obsession with one of his female friends in the audience. He talked about toe sucking and all forms of lingus. This was funny to me because you could see Ben's mother fighting the urge to cover his ears and run screaming.
The next few acts were pros. They were traveling and stopped in to try out new material. There was a novice metal band who sounded more like grinding metal farts and sandy toilet paper, a few more newbies, and a beautiful flute player.
My set was simple. I played three of the songs I should have been playing all this time I've been fighting corporate America.
"The girl I'm seeing and I had a bet," I started out with a lie as most artist do. "She found these old songs in my CD case. We rolled the dice. If I won I got free sex. If she won I had do an open mic. Ergo tonight's performance."
I got a few laughs. It's good to break the ice. No one needed to know that I've been to scared to perform since 1999. The rush was sweet and the songs felt good to play. They flowed like the first drag of a fresh American Spirit released into the wind. They seemed to say "We miss you. This is where you belong."
Ah yes, playing live.
That Beautiful Black Man
No comments:
Post a Comment