For most of my life I have written song lyrics, usually silly little ditties. I am trying to learn how to play music and I have been playing bass regularly for about three years now and recently started guitar. But I really don’t play that well and I have never performed on stage before.
I found out that one of my favorite musical artists, Rodney Crowell, was hosting a songwriting camp along with a host of other stars. I decided to attend despite my lack of ability. The experience was as good as I could have hoped for. There was creativity in the air and we were encouraged to express it.
Each night there was an open mike and there
were 25 – 30 performances. When I arrived, I had declined a chance for a slot
because I knew I wasn’t ready.
When I got up this
past Sunday morning around 4, my usual time, there was a song in my head, a
bawdy little blues number. So I did what we were trained to do and got up and
wrote it down. Later I worked out a little three note bass riff which I
practiced throughout the day.
We had a class
with David Baerwald on Sunday. While the other classes focused on critiquing
our songs, David’s class was music theory and was very helpful. Turns out that
David is quite a famous composer, songwriter, performer and is very sought
after. More about David at the end of this piece.
During the day I
kept thinking about my song and the organizer of the open mike for the night
agreed to put me on last. I went inside my room and practiced my song a couple more times. Someone had offered to play with me but I decided to go it alone.
I sat through 22
songs. They were all great but they were mostly performed on a soft strummed acoustic guitar with very tasteful vocals. They began to sound the same after a while. Finally it was my turn. It
was about 10:40 in the evening.
I took the stage
and waited patiently for them to set the mikes. Then I stepped forward. The
night had begun with well over a hundred people in attendance but by now it was
down to about fifty. I learned when you are on stage you can’t see the audience
at all because of the stage lights. This is how I introduced myself.
“Congratulations to those of you who stuck around till now.
You’ve reached the
bottom of the fuckin barrel.
My name is Adam.
I’m 60 years old and this is my first time on stage as a “musician.”
I wasn’t going to perform but then this song hit me this morning and I wrote it down and figured it
out and here I am. I ain’t gonna tell you what its called but its inspired by
the great Clarence Frogman Henry who a couple of months ago I watched slay the
crowd at the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival at age 87. Now I have a new
life goal.”
Now it was time to play. My song began with four slaps to my bass. I pulled it off. Next was supposed to be the three-note riff. My fingers went to the wrong place and my riff failed. I tried and failed again. And again. My Bass was miked so it was putting out sounds but they were the wrong ones.
At this point I could have stopped and tried to compose myself. Instead I decided it was time to "sing." There had been no sound check before I opened my mouth and the volume of my voice launched a full scale assault on the audience. Made it through the first verse and first punchline and heard some laughter.
I then tried the Bass riff again. Again I failed completely at playing this very simple riff. So I started to
sing the second verse. Except I forgot the lyrics. I took a breath and started
over and stumbled my way through it. The verse ends with me doing some funny
voices (in tribute to the Frogman) and I again heard laughter.
Okay, I made it
through two verses. Only one more to go. I tried that Bass riff again but by
now I had no idea what a Bass guitar even was. So I stepped up to the mike and
delivered my third verse that concluded with another funny voice. My vocal
style is best described as completely over the top. I could hear screaming. Hopefully it was the good kind.
I finished
singing, tried that bass riff one more time, failed again, slapped it one time
and took a bow. The crowd (such as it was) went wild.
I was trying to
take a deep breath and compose myself when David Baerwald comes running up to
me. “That was fuckin amazing” he says to me. I tell him how my riff had fallen
apart and I had not played a single note that I intended. “I don’t fucking
care” he says to me, Nobody gives shit about your technical virtuosity. That
was fabulous.”
Other folks came
up that night and were very kind. I had trouble going to bed I still had an
adrenaline rush. I went to class the next morning, lots of other people were
coming up and saying “awesome performance” and other nice things.
Then I hear this
story. David Baerwald had been at the show and got bored and went outside to
smoke cigarettes and chat. Finally his buddy dragged him back inside even
though David was saying he wanted to leave. But he got seated a minute or two
before my performance.
When I got on
stage and launched into my song, people told me that David leapt from his seat
and began pumping his fist before running over to complement me after I was
through.
But not only
that, David went out to dinner with people on Monday night (our final night
here) and was telling them that my song was the highlight of the whole
conference for him.
This is pretty
high praise coming from a famous musician. I know what he responded to. Despite
all the problems I ran into during the performance, I just went for it and
cranked up the intensity and shouted out my funny little song accompanied by my
shambolic playing. I woke everyone up, made them laugh, and got my first show
under my belt.
Does this mean
that I am good or about to be discovered? Not at all. But it does mean that for
one moment in time I was able to touch some other people and let them have a
good time. I’m going to be chasing that feeling now but I also understand that
I am going to have to get a lot better.
