The show on Sunday night was brilliant.
I was so nervous. It was our first performance since August. I did not realize this until we were at the venue, but somehow, we got booked alongside several folk artists. We are not even remotely related to folk music. Ryan's got a Marshall amp that's as big as Rhode Island and I play the freaking keytar. So naturally, that made the experience even more nerve-wracking.
It turned out to be alright though. A lot of people came out to support us. I love seeing people I know at the shows (although often times it makes me even more nervous). When the fourth folk ensemble ended and it was our time to play, I muttered the words, "And now for something completely different" into the microphone. The rest is history. We did our thing and, strangely enough, people were really into it.
I had almost let myself forget how much I absolutely love performing. That's what happens when you go on hiatus for eight months, I guess. There's really nothing as crazy and wonderful as being onstage. It's hard to explain. I know it might sound cliche, but when I'm up there, shredding on my keytar and sharing my music with a receptive audience, I feel like this is what I was meant to do. And though I spent half the show feeling like I was potentially going to pee my pants, it also felt totally natural for me to be up there next to Ryan, belting out song lyrics about icebergs and the apocalypse and hearing the crowd cheer.
Anyway, the show was a blast. And the keytar was a hit! We finished the set, loaded our stuff off the stage, and were immediately approached by the guy who organized the show.
"Hey, wow, you guys were great, I like it!" he says. "It was weird, something different, but cool."
"Thanks!" we reply enthusiastly, still high off the music and adreneline rush.
"So uh...I was back there talking to the bartenders and uh...we realized that no one carded you. You ARE at least 21, right???"
Ryan and I look at each other. We're well aware that we both look as young as 17 at times (not to mention our music often appeals to a younger, rowdier crowd), but we just got done providing everyone in the venue (and probably some people on the street) with quality trash rock. Was he really going to card us?
"We're 22!" I proclaim. He looks at us skeptically, then hands us our earnings for the night.
We pocket the money and go outside to load our equipment into my mother's SUV (I have to borrow it whenever we have a show considering it's the only vehicle that will fit all of our stuff - nothing says ROCK AND ROLL like a Honda CRV!). Then we go back inside to listen to last band. We're greeted like minor celebrities.
"I love that keytar work!"
"What was your band's name? Original Sound Track?"
"How long have you guys played together? That was great!"
"Way to shred that keytar!"
"Come do a show for us in Washington!"
Eventually we left the venue and found a pub a few blocks away. Ryan and Steve both had to get up really early for work the next day, but we could not deny our need to celebrate Original Sound Trash's return to the stage.
There's the after party crowd in all of it's fuzzy phone picture glory. Steve the Cute Camera Operator (yes, the show was recorded - expect video posts later), Post-Rock-Show Lauren (fortunately the fuzziness of this picture hides the melty eyeliner), Felix (the man, not the cat), and Post-Rock-Show Ryan (reminding you that Pluto is not a planet anymore). Great way to end the night.
Original Sound Trash is baaaaaaack. :D