Part of my "Plan" to get back on stage is to get out to some live shows, enjoy the music and observe the performers. I stopped going to shows a few years back, for several reasons- I have a short attention span, I hate crowds and strangers in my personal bubble, the 6'-8" guy always stands in front of me, and it irks me to pay the "convenience fee" just for the privelege of buying a ticket (whose convenience? Certainly not mine). Also, due to the aforementioned lack of musically-inclined friends, I have a hard time finding someone to go with me, and I hate spending $50 to stand in a shoulder-to-shoulder crowd behind a 6'-8" tall dude, by myself (wow, I sounded really old right there...)
Well, this is pretty ridiculous, given the fact that I live in San Francisco (and if I lived in LA, I should be fined for being so musically negligent!) Choosing the right venue makes a whole world of difference- I'd skip the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium and anything with "Arena" in the name, and after Outside Lands last year in Golden Gate Park, I'll probably also skip anything that claims to be a "Festival" (I don't think I'll ever get over the trauma of the sound cutting out not once but THREE TIMES during Radiohead's set). But I've now seen two or three really good shows at the Fillmore, where I can easily get within 20 feet of the stage (but Mr. 6'-8" will still be in front of me, oh well). The best outdoor venue (IMO) is the Greek at UC Berkeley, which feels cozy even when there's 10,000 people in there. This week I'll find out if the Independent is worthwhile when I see the Bowerbirds there.
The other key for me has been, somewhat obviously, choosing the right performer, and for this I'd like to thank KCRW and Youtube. Just because I like a few tracks by Kasabian doesn't mean I want to stand there for an hour just to see them... or maybe I do. So now, when I find out about an upcoming show, I check out some of their "live" stuff on Youtube- if my mouth drops open, it's good sign. Here's a few that made that happen: Bon Iver, Phoenix, Jose Gonzalez. If it's so-so, I'll save my $50 for the mini.
25 January 2010
23 January 2010
The Start of the Plan, the Freight and Stage Fright
Some time last year I had a minor epiphany. Just like how a person who runs a mile or two every other week is not going to wake up one day and be able to run a marathon, I am not going to wake up tomorrow and be ready to go from noodling around on the guitar in my room on the weekends, to playing a 45 minute set in front of an audience of 100 people (is that really what I want? I should probably figure that part out). So, I figure my first step is to play an open mic somewhere in the SF area, which I've never done. I googled around and came up with Freight and Salvage in Berkeley, also known as the Freight, as the most likely venue. It's an acoustic music hall/coffee house with a well-known open mic most Tuesdays, and they don't serve alcohol, so I figure it's right up my alley.
I'm still too chicken to just show up with my guitar and sign in. I get awful stage fright these days. Sheesh... I played those two songs for the OWA in September (see previous post) because I thought, "this is the nicest, friendliest, most supportive group of people I've ever met, even if I miss every note, forget all the words and completely stop after half a song, they'll still clap." And it's true. Even knowing this, when I stood up on the second day of the retreat to play my songs, my hands were shaking like crazy. I had planned to do at least four songs, with a couple extras rehearsed in case I wanted to swap something out, and after I finished the first song I knew I was only going to do two. I felt like I barely had control of my fingers, it was like I was wearing gardening gloves. By the end of the second song I was wrung out- I had slightly better control of my fingers but my knees were actually a little shaky (that's a new one on me). They all clapped, it was great, but man do I need practice.
So about the Freight... I feel like I need to get in on the ground level, sub-basement level even. I have to go watch/listen to an open mic to see what it's like there, what the performance level is. I was scoping out the January calendar to find the next open mic when I saw that they offer classes and workshops, and one class was called Songwriting. The very next day, New Year's Eve in fact, I walked in and signed up for the class- I was so excited. Unfortunately I guess I was the only one... nobody else signed up so it was cancelled, boo. As a backup activity I went and signed up for Italian language classes, also on Tuesday nights, so I guess i won't be sitting in on any open mics until March. Plenty of time to practice, right?
I'm still too chicken to just show up with my guitar and sign in. I get awful stage fright these days. Sheesh... I played those two songs for the OWA in September (see previous post) because I thought, "this is the nicest, friendliest, most supportive group of people I've ever met, even if I miss every note, forget all the words and completely stop after half a song, they'll still clap." And it's true. Even knowing this, when I stood up on the second day of the retreat to play my songs, my hands were shaking like crazy. I had planned to do at least four songs, with a couple extras rehearsed in case I wanted to swap something out, and after I finished the first song I knew I was only going to do two. I felt like I barely had control of my fingers, it was like I was wearing gardening gloves. By the end of the second song I was wrung out- I had slightly better control of my fingers but my knees were actually a little shaky (that's a new one on me). They all clapped, it was great, but man do I need practice.
So about the Freight... I feel like I need to get in on the ground level, sub-basement level even. I have to go watch/listen to an open mic to see what it's like there, what the performance level is. I was scoping out the January calendar to find the next open mic when I saw that they offer classes and workshops, and one class was called Songwriting. The very next day, New Year's Eve in fact, I walked in and signed up for the class- I was so excited. Unfortunately I guess I was the only one... nobody else signed up so it was cancelled, boo. As a backup activity I went and signed up for Italian language classes, also on Tuesday nights, so I guess i won't be sitting in on any open mics until March. Plenty of time to practice, right?
22 January 2010
Music Life Rebirth
Or, A Quiet Acoustic Hermit Tries to Bring Her Music Back Out of the Shadows
I have always thought of myself as a musician, but for the last six years or so, I don't think I would have felt comfortable saying so out loud. Up until September 2009, when I played two songs in front of forty or so of the lovely and forgiving ladies of the OWA (Organization of Women Architects) at our yearly retreat, I hadn't "performed" (in any capacity) since... I don't know when. As a solo performer I have played very rarely- in the seven years I've lived in California, the OWA stint is my only performance in front of an audience of more than, say, three people. Way back sometime in 2004, I did play a few songs on the UC Berkeley college radio station's latenite local program, with my friend the Flake. I count that as a performance but it's so long ago, and I feel like I was such a different person then, that I sometimes forget that I played it.
SO. Now it's 2010, and I'm coming to terms with the fact that I am drifting (drift defined). I never stopped caring about music, and Music, but somewhere along the line it took a definite backseat to the demands of my career and other more passive hobbies, and in deference to my nearly-incapacitating stage fright, I let it become a private hobby that I never talk about and never put forward. I play my guitar in my room, usually when my roommates aren't home, never after 10pm at night (wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors) and even then not too loudly. I don't know any other musicians in California (unless they are "shadow artists" like me, not talking about it) and my friends here, who are nonetheless creative, intelligent, and artists in their own right, are not musically inclined. Day-to-day life is so absurdly busy, and simultaneously mind-numbingly boring, it's so easy to lose track of how long it's been since I played my guitar at all... until one day I pick it up and discover that I no longer have calluses on my left hand at all. Now that's depressing.
But there is hope! Last year a friend of mine, the Doctor, taught me how to do a little finger-picking on the guitar, and with a bit of effort (quite a bit actually) I picked it up. Suddenly at the advanced age of 28, I realized that I am not, as I always assumed, limited by my 18-year-old guitar skill set. I can learn, I can improve! There's hope for me yet.
I have always thought of myself as a musician, but for the last six years or so, I don't think I would have felt comfortable saying so out loud. Up until September 2009, when I played two songs in front of forty or so of the lovely and forgiving ladies of the OWA (Organization of Women Architects) at our yearly retreat, I hadn't "performed" (in any capacity) since... I don't know when. As a solo performer I have played very rarely- in the seven years I've lived in California, the OWA stint is my only performance in front of an audience of more than, say, three people. Way back sometime in 2004, I did play a few songs on the UC Berkeley college radio station's latenite local program, with my friend the Flake. I count that as a performance but it's so long ago, and I feel like I was such a different person then, that I sometimes forget that I played it.
SO. Now it's 2010, and I'm coming to terms with the fact that I am drifting (drift defined). I never stopped caring about music, and Music, but somewhere along the line it took a definite backseat to the demands of my career and other more passive hobbies, and in deference to my nearly-incapacitating stage fright, I let it become a private hobby that I never talk about and never put forward. I play my guitar in my room, usually when my roommates aren't home, never after 10pm at night (wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors) and even then not too loudly. I don't know any other musicians in California (unless they are "shadow artists" like me, not talking about it) and my friends here, who are nonetheless creative, intelligent, and artists in their own right, are not musically inclined. Day-to-day life is so absurdly busy, and simultaneously mind-numbingly boring, it's so easy to lose track of how long it's been since I played my guitar at all... until one day I pick it up and discover that I no longer have calluses on my left hand at all. Now that's depressing.
But there is hope! Last year a friend of mine, the Doctor, taught me how to do a little finger-picking on the guitar, and with a bit of effort (quite a bit actually) I picked it up. Suddenly at the advanced age of 28, I realized that I am not, as I always assumed, limited by my 18-year-old guitar skill set. I can learn, I can improve! There's hope for me yet.
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