This is going to suck.

At the open mic this week, the sound guy played, and he was great. He and I have the same first name, and we chatted for awhile before things got rolling. Initially I felt bad for him, because he had trouble getting the equipment working (it was his first day). But he sounded great when it came to be his turn to play. He has a sort of spanish classical style, and the typical skills associated with it - the triplet trilling, the runs of fast double-picked notes, the generally just badass sounding Em and Am chord progressions.

But what he said before he played a song he wrote was, "I have been told never to say, 'This is going to suck,' on stage, but..." and then he started playing. And he rocked that song. And it's an important lesson about stagecraft: most of it is maintaining the impression that you're doing what you plan to. Even if you fuck up badly, if you can keep it rolling, or even make it seem intentional, you're set.

My playing that night was plagued by problems. The bar is so cold, and my nerves run so sweaty-palm anxious that when it comes time to play anything that is fingerstyle and complicated (i.e. my bread and butter) I lose all my fine control and feel like I'm playing with ten thumbs. Maybe I should learn the Chet Atkins song, All Thumbs:

Excitement

It's amazing how much excitement can be generated solely by people's voices. This clip of the Blind Boys of Alabama illustrates my point. When the rest of the group jumps in with the harmony, I defy you not to get at least a little excited.

A Non-Musical Post

I've noticed that, at least on my computer, I have too many videos on the blog page at one time, so some of them don't really work or don't play with sound. I'm adjusting the settings to hopefully remedy this problem.

In other news, I felt like Monday didn't go particularly well at the open mic. Cherri and I had to start a song over, it didn't seem like I could get my fingers to work quite right, and we just weren't together. It really sucked, because I like those songs, and they had gone so well in rehearsal. I suppose it's just the reality of playing: sometime you eat the bear, and sometimes he eats you.

What is weird about this, though, is that other people really didn't seem to notice. As soon as we were coming off stage, one of the people said we sounded really good together. Later, I asked one of the other regulars how we sounded, and he said we were good, and that he liked my slide playing (which was one of the things I hadn't been happy with). So it's probably just the fact of being nervous and overly critical of ourselves. Probably, they were also being a little extra nice. But at any rate, that's one of the things that I have been finding dissatisfying about playing the open mic: everyone is so nice that you don't really get any feedback.

Here is some slide playing that truly is great:

Recording

Performing is more than just being able to produce something interesting live with your stage presence. It's also about having the discipline to produce a recording with the scope and dimension and meaning you intend. That means honing your sound, solving problems, and ensuring that you can perform perfectly, not just passionately. Anyone interested in learning about the process of producing music should check out the Classic Albums series of documentaries.

Election

Why is it that campaigning turns otherwise great orators, thoroughly likable people, and interesting issues into vanilla pudding? Last night was a perfect example. John McCain, a man who between elections is funny, dynamic, and interesting, became during the course of this election a thorough bore. It wasn't just his presentation in the media: I've watched several of his full speeches, and they all lack any sense of the man's personality and verve. They are performances, acted for the benefit of some predicted effect on the public. But when you're a candidate running very much on your sincerity and reputation for openness and honesty, why undermine that honesty with disingenuous slogans and uncharacteristic sarcasm? It's bad politics, and it's bad performance.

What is equally interesting to me is the suddenness with which these transformations can be reversed. I found McCain's concession speech to be more inspiring than anything he's said or done in weeks. Sincere or not, it SEEMED sincere, and carried none of the bitterness that had been expressed in so much of his recent rhetoric.



On the other hand, I thought Obama was underwhelming. That "Yes, we can" line had all the potential to build itself up into an immense chant as wildly inspiring as "I have a dream," if Obama had been willing to put a little more verve into the performance. By the end, he could have built up into a final chorus of "Yes we can". Instead, he kept the whole speech on an even keel. My partner even said that she thought he seemed somber.



Finally, consider these speeches, which got virtually no attention that I heard about, but which were charming and hilarious. They remind us that these men must have some presence and personality, or they would not have risen to the stations they currently occupy.


McCain:




Obama: