Anyone can play guitar...

Week Twenty-Three:Open Mic Night

My dreams of rock stardom all began as I watched Slash shredding outside of a church in the middle of the desert when I was twelve years old. Unfortunately, any designs on becoming a guitar hero were soon dissolved as a lack of patience and skill, along with my musical preferences, led me to forgo scales and arpeggios in favor of the noble calling of a songwriter. I’m sure it also had a lot to do with the emergence of Nirvana around the same time which inevitably expanded my interest in countless new musical styles, most notably punk and indie rock.

Naturally, as soon as I learned to play guitar (just barely) the next step was to start a band. However, after a few years of half-hearted attempts, my first real band materialized when I was sixteen years old – the Skanks. We were a punk rock group that lasted over two years including two demo tapes and over a dozen local shows. Unfortunately, the Skanks eventually dissolved and I then formed Swingset Hands with my good friend and fellow Skank, Jason.

Between 1999 and 2003, Swingset Hands was easily my most productive musical experience as we tried to develop a unique style that was more mature than our previous teenage punk rock. Though this goal may have ultimately failed it was a very fun period in my life incorporating two demos, an EP released on an independent record label, several tours throughout the east coast and Midwest and a bounty of merchandising from pins to stickers and several different t-shirts designs. Trust me, that stuff is very important when it’s paying for gas and food.

Once Swingset Hands ultimately disbanded I played in several different groups before my most recent stint, playing bass in a straightforward rock band called the Design. Unfortunately, the Design suffered the same fate as most musical endeavors and split up before reaching their full potential thanks to the constant bickering of a few members. Although I love them both dearly and they remain good friends, these two egomaniacs were definitely not meant to work together. But I digress.

So now that you’re updated on my personal history as an ultimately unsuccessful musician I should probably get to the point here. Currently, it’s been over a year since I’ve been a part of any organized musical enterprise but my passion for songwriting has actually been neglected, if not totally repressed, since Swingset Hands broke up in the summer of 2003. Assuming it’s the result of this disheartening event, or perhaps my laziness and lack of focus, I have been unable to actually write a complete song since.

However, despite this inability I’ve long harbored a desire to resuscitate my musical career with much more humble expectations than I originally set forth with at the age of twelve. Rather than hoping to become a million rock star adored by millions, I just want to produce some decent music if for no other reason than personal accomplishment and the art of the experience (sorry Jason, I know you hate that).

Therefore, I originally came up with this idea of performing at an open mic night for 52to30 not only as an awesome new experience, but also with the alternate goal of launching my solo career. Before stardom hits, I figure it would be a good idea to experience performing in front of people without the comfort of hiding behind drums and distortion. However, this is a very daunting proposition as both drums and distortion are very good at concealing wrong chords and forgotten lyrics in the live setting.

When discussing the idea of open mic night with my friend Tony he said he knew of a place we could give it a try. I’m sure many of you know Tony as the singer/guitarist/songwriter of The Failures’ Union and those who are unfamiliar should check them out at your earliest possible convenience. They are an awesome band and easily my favorite locally. So with this information in place, Tony and I finally settled on a date and starting preparing our chops.

Personally, I wanted to perform an original song and considering my aforementioned lack of new material I knew I had to get to work. Thankfully, I had a few different guitar parts I’d been kicking around for a while and decided to work on a progression I particularly liked. I won’t bore you with all the details (too late?) but I realized how quickly I could put a decent song together when I actually put forth the time and effort (Why hasn’t anyone ever told me how effective time and effort are?).

Then, as soon as the music was finished the melody and words quickly fell into place. I’ve never considered myself a Springsteen-esque storyteller but the lyrics to this song are probably the closest I’ve ever come. Although it is still currently untitled, the main idea is expressed in one line that states, “Sometimes great nights don’t make great storylines.” Without getting too deep, it’s basically about the realization that life can be pretty awesome even if nothing particularly excellent is happening. I’ve had that feeling many times in my life when all of a sudden I think to myself, “this rules.” Take from that what you will but it’s pretty meaningful for me. However, once again, I digress.

* * *

With Tony joining me I felt much more comfortable knowing that I wouldn’t be alone on this adventure. In addition, Tony also invited two of his friends to perform as well – Mark, who I had seen around but never officially met and Mark “the cop” who, as well as being a Buffalo Police Officer, is also the lead singer in Tony’s other band the Exit Strategy. The fifth member of our party, although he would not be performing, was my good friend Jason – previously mentioned member of the Skanks and Swingset Hands.

The five of us walked through the door of Sportsman’s Tavern last Monday evening and emerged into a standard, non-descript bar. It was a narrow place with a bar and a couple of televisions along the left side while the walls were covered with neon beer signs and framed photographs of bands that had played there in the past. Along the right wall was a small stage, only a few inches high and already set up with lights, a piano, a guitar and several microphone stands. Noticing we were easily the youngest people in the place my nerves immediately began to settle. Previously envisioning a large gathering of hypercritical, uber-sheik hipsters in their overpriced, thrift store uniforms, I was relieved to find Sportsman’s sparsely populated with a middle aged but friendly clientele.

After hanging out in a corner for about half an hour, the woman who runs the open mic night took the stage to kick off the event. During her three-song set of twangy, folk songs Tony, Mark, Mark (the cop) and myself each committed our names to the sign up sheet. Tony was the second performer of the night and he promptly rocked the house. Though visibly nervous at first he quickly grew more comfortable through his three songs, setting the bar very high for the rest of us. Tony really is an awesome musician.

Mark (the cop) was up next and I was pleasantly surprised by his performance. His smooth and mellow songs are a definite departure from the driving indie rock I’m used to with the Exit Strategy. It was very enjoyable. Mark followed him and also performed very well but in all honesty, it was hard for me to pay attention to his set. Instead, knowing I was up next, I was busy trying to run through the words and chord progressions in my head. Even in such a low profile setting, the adrenaline that precedes going on stage is very intense. It’s such an exhilarating feeling.

After Mark finished his set I made my way to the stage with a healthy dose of nervous excitement. As I dove into the song I felt like a child learning to walk. At first my cautiousness made me a little unsteady but as soon I hit my stride I felt comfortable with what I was doing and made it easily to the end of my journey. Then, when it was over, I knew I did alright but I would definitely do much better on my next try. Also, I hopefully wouldn’t forget as many lyrics.

Overall I really had a lot of fun at open mic night. My only disappoint with this experience was just the same can of worms I previously opened about my own laziness. After all this time, when I finally got the opportunity to play again I only had one song available. This really bummed me out as I got to thinking about the big picture.

I consider myself to be a musician and though I’d like to fancy myself a songwriter I only had one song to perform after seventeen years of playing guitar. Granted, I’ve written many songs in the past but if I could even remember how to play them they were either overly rudimentary punk songs or I didn’t think they would transmit to an acoustic setting such as this.

Whatever the reason, I’ve taken a lot away from this experience. Not only do I still love playing music in front of people but I also realize it takes real effort and concentration to write songs that are actually worth playing. Hopefully, armed with this new (though not very groundbreaking) realization, I will continue to write songs and play out whenever possible. Again, I’m not planning on becoming a rock star, I’m just trying to do something that I love as much as possible.

See you in the pit!