I have a couple of “proper bar” shows next week, my first since “getting back into it” about…8 months ago…? (Cole’s was quiet enough, and the stage secluded enough, for it to not really count, in my book.) These are shows at fully-functioning watering holes, and I’m sharing bills with some full-bore rock bands. Very much the scene that made me recruit Tom and Casey all those years ago. Intimidating to confront all on your lonesome.
So it’s been a little weird trying to shift out of coffee shop gear. But the truth is, aside from song selection, there’s very little shifting that needs to take place. It’s taken me a few rehearsals to realize this. I’ve been hallucinating the need to answer loud crowds with louder guitar and more aggressive playing. It’s been doubly tempting to lean this way, since I’m more rehearsed than I’ve ever been in my life (seriously), so I just happen to be capable of playing faster and harder. But that doesn’t mean I should.
No, what I’ve been remembering this week is that if I crank the amp and attack the strings, it actually sounds like garbage. Maybe one day I’ll write some garage rock songs, but right now that’s not really in my bag of tricks. So I just need to play as I always have, as tight as I can, and leave the volume issues to the sound person. That’s what they’re for, right? Kind of a no-brainer, especially to people who get out there more. But like with so many things, it’s better late than never.
After sussing out the practical approach, the rest is just psychological. Which is not inconsiderable. I can’t help but recall the last time I played Cleveland, I think in 2006. That was basically the show that made me — that I stupidly allowed to make me — give up for a while. I played after a trio of knuckleheads who heckled during my set, singing Bob Dylan lyrics at me between songs. Because, you know, I was alone and bearded. And old and quiet. Whatever. (Oddly enough, they friended me on MySpace a week later. Ah, MySpace. How 2006. But I digress.)
Could something like that happen again? Of course it could. But it’s no reason to stop playing. If I could go back in time, I’d have booked as many post-Cleveland shows as I could, stuffing them between me and that nightmare until it dimmed to transparency. It’s best to take the long view, to gather all the shows and consider them on average. That Cleveland show bowled well under a hundred, as did Indianapolis just a couple weeks ago. But on average, the nights are getting better, my game / average is improving. And I can’t be responsible for every lunkhead who shows up. I can only bring the best playing and singing I can, transmit as clearly as possible to the room that we’re all in this together…and then see what happens.
It’s that last bit that’s new. The bit about letting people in, being all in this together. I’m not expert at transmitting that vibe, and might never be. It’s sort of a “big ask,” considering how many anti-social bones I have in my body. But I’m working on it. One of the things I did during my “time away” was see Sunken Treasure, a movie about a solo tour Jeff Tweety did shortly after getting sober. The most important bit doesn’t appear to be available online, so I’ve put another, somewhat similar clip above. The bit I’M talking about happens backstage, where Tweety says (I’m paraphrasing) that when you play music live, you’re “performing a service.” That in spite of any appearances to the contrary (standing in an elevated spot in the room, folks maybe paying to see you), gigs are not really about the performer. (Or at least not exclusively.)
What I take him to mean is that while it helps to have good songs and to be able to play and sing them well, the performer isn’t the only measure of whether a performance is going to go well. By the same token, if a show DOES go well, it’s not exclusively because the performer did his or her (or their) job. Maybe I’m just fabricating something to make the butterflies go away, but I’m starting to believe it: Shows are not a demonstration of my coolness. Rather they’re events where, if all the elements are right, and if everyone is willing to be a part of it, something cool might happen. Even in “proper bars.”
