Ok. So there I sat. Friday night open mic. Largest turnout in the venue history. 25 performers and at least 90 people in the crowd. Four professional recording acts - whole bands, at least five solo acts with albums. I mean these folks are good. Most Friday's we get 15 acts or so and maybe 30 asses in the crowd total. This was big. Most of these people I had never seen before.
I hadn't practiced anything. I was still emotionally hung over from the Thailand trip, was totally underprepared, and had no idea the place would be bursting at the seams. I was the only uke in the joint. Everyone was looking at it, asking questions, expectations were high. I quickly grabbed the sound guy, who plays a mean mandolin, and did a warm-up of "Wanna do Bad Things With You" in the parking lot. It sounded ok... so WTF. I thought I'll do that and Withers "Ain't no Sunshine". Easy Peasy. Six chords in two songs. No problem.
Five acts to go, I'm shitting my pants. Act four busts out "Aint no Sunshine" with a full band and a native american flute. Fuck my life - they knocked it out of the park. I not only don't ever want to play it again, I never want to hear it any other way. It was epic. I'll do "Miranda Rights" I think I can remember it.
I'm sixth. We hit the floor and I get them cracking up with some joke about how much I'm about to stink the place. I nail "Bad Things". They love it. My mando player leaves and I stumble and stutter through "Miranda". Not a total loss but not great. Polite clapping and I'm out. Not too bad.
Two acts later and I was sucking down cookies and trying to forget the whole thing. A young songwriter in oversized glasses named Magdalene asks if she can borrow my uke for a number. No problem. She rips the roof off the place with a two chord protest song she wrote in the car on the way over. It was a nice song, nothing special, but cute. Folks were on their feet. They wouldn't let her leave the stage. They asked her how long she had been playing uke. They bought her cookies. Now everyone wants a uke and asked her all about them.
When I left, no one noticed.
I've decided, the next time I'm in Thailand, to ask the nice doctors there to turn me into a 20 year old girl with giant glasses. It'll do wonders for my music career.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
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9 comments:
post-op, you'll have to run from Alan McGrabbyHandz.
cool that you did your thing with such a big crowd. i'm sure they all wanted your pants but were just keepin' it cool.
tcasi, literally.
Awesome post. At least you didn't stink the place up too bad. Plus without your uke the GIGAPUS wouldn't have been sh*t. You made her what she is today. They can put that in their pipe and suck it.
That's all there is to it. We'll just have to start calling you "GrumpyCoyoteAteTheSandwich".
I'm just curious...but Isn't the plural for GIGAPUS, GIGAPUSSYS?
For Boozelele: LOL!
Or maybe it's GIGAPI.
like sample?
GIGAPI. I want Pie.
Sounds like a great experience, Grumpy. Your story is fun to read! Hmm, and I know the problem - the cuteness factor should never be underestimated!
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