Nobody likes it, for whatever reason. So, you show up, play your heart out, the crowd loves you, you get tips, you sell every CD you brought, people were laughing at your jokes.
And you don't get to come back. Why?
Because the person that booked you doesn't like the music?
Or they've gotten better people?
Or they think you are too old? (As may be my case)
Or they are bored with what you do?
Or they want to mix it up?
Or they have a friend that wants the spot?
Or they can't be bothered?
Then you get booked by people that don't even know you or have listened to your music you sent them.
When the band broke up I made sure that folks that booked me again at the same places knew they were getting a solo act. Then I show up and they want to know where the band is.
I'm still trying to find out my place in the performance thing. I like doing outdoor in the sun.
I'm thinking maybe I'm too much for the folks that want mellow background music.
I don't have enough of a following to do the club thing regularly.
I'm working on my musical skills so I can solo and up tempo and play without a book in front of me
and play music people recognize.
There's nothing you can do to resolve this thing- and its all filled with insecurities and self doubt and wonderment at the process that you can't seem to help yourself from doing.
It's the food truck twenty something that brings you dinner after your set and tells you not to stop singing.
Its the MC that tells you that the song you wrote was the best dead baby song he had ever heard.
The Vendor next to you who gives you one of her prints cause she likes your music.
It's the park ranger that says she wanted to hear your voice through the trees.
Its apartment courtyard people at the pool and hanging out that applaud after a rehearsal with a buddy and a guy comes to ask you to play it again.
It's the twenty something girls in The Viper Room that told you they really liked you.
It's your musician friends that take to time to check out your stuff.
Oh well, I Drive On
No comments:
Post a Comment