On one hand, it's very exciting. I feel like I'm finally beginning to get my act together a little bit.
I'm trying to overcome my fear of performing alone.
|This picture is blurry, but my name IS on that sign|
1. I played a 20 minute set as part of a singer-songwriter showcase at a local pub. It was a competition and the audience could vote for their favorite act every time they bought a drink. A bunch of my friends from ye olde artist's community showed up and put their alcoholism to good use. I had a blast playing my set and ended up getting second place in the competition. Also, some random blonde chick that I didn't know yelled "LAUREN, YOU'RE HOT!!!" when my set was over. I don't swing that way, but it was still flattering and made me feel very rock 'n' roll.
2. I don't know if this counts as a show, but a couple of friends set me up with a local bike shop that needed music to promote First Friday happenings. I set my keyboard up under a little tent outside the shop and sang into a microphone that was clamped onto a large bike rack (I really need to invest in a real microphone stand). The owner of the bike shop was hilarious and kept drunkenly requesting random cover songs that I didn't know how to play (really, who goes up to a keyboard player and requests "Whip It" by Devo???). I finally busted out a rough cover of "Blitzkrieg Bop" by The Ramones, just to shut him up. When I was finished, the entire population of the tattoo parlor next door cheered and some people came outside to put money in my tip jar. I butchered a few more punk rock songs and then went back to playing originals (contrary to popular belief that night, those originals were not just souped-up Journey songs). It was funner than I expected it to be and there was free beer. I made enough money in tips to buy some French fries afterwards. Rock 'n' roll.
3. The prize for winning the songwriter show was a paid show at the same venue. I was really excited about this and had high expectations. So I was a nervous wreck when it came time to actually perform. I had told so many people about the show and thought I would see a lot of my friends there. Naturally, I was disappointed when only four people came to see me. The bar was full of people who were there to see the girl I was opening for and everyone talked through my whole set. I felt like the awkward background music no one was really paying attention to. I played a song called "Deja Vu" twice as an inside joke with myself. No one noticed. I couldn't wait for my set to be over and ended it a little early, handing the stage over to a fake redhead with non-prescription glasses (so lame).
After the third show, I remembered how depressing playing shows alone can be. I've had terrible luck trying to find musicians to be in my back-up band, but decided to try yet again. I really wish I could just clone myself and form a band with all the clones, but I don't have access to that sort of technology. If anyone knows how to do that, let me know.
|Maybe I'm narcissistic, but I really wish this scenario could actually exist.|
His new band is with Tweaked Out Elvis Costello, of all people. I am so confused as to why he thinks this is a good idea. Also, I try not to take things like this personally, but I don't really enjoy being ditched for that twerp who can't stay sober long enough to even know what notes he's playing.
Ah well. I hope they have fun getting high and throwing cake at radiators together. I am now accepting applications for new guitar players.
The search for a band is so frustrating.
In the meantime, I finally got some CDs printed!
Anyway, blah blah blah. Hi, I'm Lauren and I'm going to go on a rant about my philosophy on music. I'm going to stop and wrap this up before it becomes something really long that no one will want to read.
Peace and love, amigos. More updates to come.