My steady stream of gigs has seemingly dried up, and I'm left to my own devices, hawking for gigs like a Girl Scout selling cookies. Unfortunately, I don't have the Thin Mints or the green uniform to boost the deal. A wise person (my live-in roadie and sound man, Rich) advised me to get myself out there by playing weekly open mike nights. A great idea, of course. I wish I had thought of it, but that's why I pay him the big bucks. The Outer Space in Hamden, CT was the first stop on my Open Mike Night Tour. We arrived after 7pm, which was signup time and found the prime spots were taken, leaving only the very first slot at 7:30 and the third to last slot at 10:00. I carefully weighed my decision, deciding against the first spot, because in my experience, the crowd is at its thinnest earlier on. In this case it would have been better had I chosen it. By the time my turn rolled around, after the featured act and one person ahead of me, the crowd had depleted considerably. Lesson learned: Get there just before signup happens so you can get the slot you want. I've been playing open mikes since I was 15, and I know the rules, but five minutes can make a huge difference. I played The Sum of My Years, Anyway and Lost in Montreal (the new song about my stolen guitar). The crowd was very appreciative, and I managed to sell one CD, get a tip and hand out a business card, which made it a success in my book. Next stop is C.J. Sparrow in Cheshire, CT this Thursday, July 15th. Come on out and cheer me on! :)
Back in January, I wrote a blog post about a song I was going to write memorializing my stolen guitar. I finally started work on that song, creating the first verse a few months ago. Strangely enough, this song has taken forever to materialize. As I write this, the song is about 85% done, I think. For some reason, it has been very difficult to express the story without sounding like a sentimental fool. I'm not sure there's any way around that.
In my early days of songwriting, the songs would come a heck of a lot faster. If I couldn't finish the song in one sitting, I would trash the remnants. I'm not so quick to do that now. This is the first song I've written since 40 Years On was finished back in November of 2009. EmmyLou Harris talked about her fear of songwriting in a recent interview. I can surely relate to that. I am lucky that many seem to connect to my songs -- that is such an amazing feeling. I want to make that connection EVERY time, so that puts pressure on me to create a song that people can understand and believe in.
I have been playing the new song, in its fragmented and experimental state, to my Second Life audiences for the past week or two now. I'm not sure whether it's helped or not, in regards to feedback or whatever. In the past, I used to play the song over the phone to a friend when I was finished, just to get someone's opinion. Playing an unfinished song is uncharted territory for me--drawing the listeners into the songwriting process and allowing them to see the song evolve.
This song is moving SO slowly. I'm not sure what's keeping the words and music from flowing, but I truly hope to finish it by the end of this week. The working title is Lost in Montreal, so be on the lookout for it, and let me know what you think.
Last night I was part of a video podcast shoot to promote our upcoming show at The Outer Space in Hamden, CT. The night didn't get off to an auspicious start when I got lost in the wilds of Naugatuck, trying to find Vision Recording Studios. Thanks Google Maps! At least I wasn't the only one to get lost with those directions. After two calls, I finally made it there an hour later, only to find that in my rush to get on the road, I'd left my purse at home. It didn't make much of a difference that I was late, however, since the crew was working with one of the other acts, but I didn't want people to think I was ditzy because I couldn't find my way. Four other acts besides me will be appearing on Saturday, April 16th: Mojo Magnus, Sarah Lemieux, Tomorrow Just Started and Little Ugly. Last night's session included me, Little Ugly and Sarah Lemieux. A PBS crew working on a show about Connecticut musicians was there doing the filming and interviewing, and will add footage from the April 16th show to their final cut. Each of us had an interview that lasted about thirty minutes and played two songs. I played The Test and 40 Years On, since I talked about them in the interview. The video podcast will incorporate some of the interview and most likely one of the songs.
I am not a fan of myself on video or in pictures, so I'm not sure whether I want to see it or not, but of course I will watch it. It was an interesting evening, and even though it was long, I really enjoyed it. By the time I left the studio it was just after midnight. Thankfully, I didn't get lost on the way home.
Thanks to David Vignola, owner of Vision Recording Studios and half of Mojo Magnus, for giving me the opportunity to play at this event. The mix of musicians and styles are diverse, but each is very talented and I'm honored to be among them.
The video podcast should be out sometime next week, I believe...
Somehow, the god of live shows has been smiling down on me. Where there once was drought, there is now fruition. Starting in February and reaching all the way to May, my live show dance card is full. I'm playing SoNo Caffeine on Thursday, March 17, Maggie Mcflys in Middlebury on Wednesday, March 30, and The Outer Space on Saturday, April 16. Beyond that, who knows?
On February 19th, 2011, I was part of Frank and Friends Saturday Night Special at the Huntington Street Cafe, in Shelton, CT. Frank Pergola, our host, kicked off the show with a couple of songs. John Hoyt, a banjo player from Indiana, played next, and then it was my turn. I played a 35-40 minute set of mostly originals to a very appreciative crowd. One woman in the front row was crying during my song 40 Years On. I'd like to believe it was the song that moved her to tears, but I'll never know for sure. I closed out my set with John Prine's Angel From Montgomery and Bob Dylan's You Ain't Going Nowhere so I could call Frank up on stage to add some guitar and vocals to the mix. The whole audience sang along on the last song, which was a great way to finish my set. The Zuzazz String Orkestra ended the night with a lively and eclectic set of classic tunes. Here's a bit of video from the show:
Greenwich Village was the locale for an hour set I played on the Window Box Stage at Manhattan Theatre Source on Saturday, February 26th. Amelia Blake, a fellow Second Life musician was in town from Louisiana, and we had made plans to get together that day. She mentioned the Window Box Stage, and I thought I would see if I could get a gig there on Saturday, since I was going to be in the city already. I figured it would be a long shot, but lo and behold, the spot was open. As we had plans to roam around the Village all day, I had to find someplace secure to stash my guitar. A good friend of mine offered to let me keep my guitar at her place for the day. The caveat: she lives on the upper west side. Needless to say, we spent a good amount of time riding the subway in and out of the Village. We had plans to have lunch at Katz's Deli, but when we got there the line was too long, so we found Pulino's, a gourmet pizza place which was unexpectedly delightful.
Arriving in Greenwich Village 50 some-odd years late for the folk movement and culture that thrived in those days, I still felt a little like I was perpetuating history--just me and my guitar, singing my folk songs on MacDougal Street, steps away from Washington Square Park. The room was fairly empty when I began, save for the few familiar faces of friends, who came out to hear me and give support. I was the opening act for the Manhattan Theatre Source production of Oscarpalooza, a show of film parodies. As the crowd of actors and audience trickled in, they found seats where they could and started paying attention. I did see people intently listening as I scanned the room. My last song was Joni Mitchell's Big Yellow Taxi and I'm told that folks sang along, but I didn't hear them. After the show, we grabbed dinner with Amelia and JW at a nearby diner and talked till we had to catch the train home.
I'm very happy to have had an engaged crowd for both shows. I know that doesn't happen at every gig, but it gives me hope that my music is somehow reaching people.
I have let this song mull around in my head for the last year and a half, it's time to get off my butt and write it. I'm sure people are tired of hearing the story of that fateful day in St. Anne de Bellevue, Quebec, when my guitar was stolen from my car. To be honest, it is partly my fault, for leaving the guitar in the backseat. It was covered well, of course, but that doesn't matter if someone is nearby watching you do it. Minutes later, the small backseat window had a hand-sized hole in it and everything that was in the backseat was gone, including my roadside emergency kit, but excluding the bag of souvenir Montreal t-shirts and hats we had bought that day.
To say I was devastated doesn't even begin to scratch the surface. My Guild F-30 was my first big name guitar. I bought it when I was 20 for $600, which was a lot of money for me back then. It had a sunburst finish and a dark tone that lent itself well to my sad songs. For 24 years that guitar and I were inseparable. It was a little beat-up and certainly showed its age. The bridge had been replaced and moved, and there was an imprint of a piece of music on the back. The guitar had been such a part of my life, I felt like I had lost my best friend. The thought of it in someone else's hands made me sick.
I was in Montreal for a musical gathering of Second Life musicians. Luckily, there was no shortage of guitars for me to play. Someone I met there offered me the use of his vintage Martins, and that was the beginning of my quest for a new guitar. I had a Taylor all but picked out but the call of the Martin was too strong. I had revered Martins from a young age, and a trip to the Martin Guitar Factory cemented that affection. A tip from the woman behind the desk at the Martin factory tour led us to the Nazareth Music Center. A few hours later, I had purchased a Martin 000-28H, which was sent to the factory to have a preamp installed. The next two weeks went by so slowly, but the guitar was definitely worth the wait. What a fabulous guitar.
My musical journey moves onward, without my faithful sidekick--the one who saw me through every emotion imaginable and absorbed my blood, sweat and tears for so many years. Several months after the theft, I found a mention of it online, posted the day it was stolen. Whoever had it then was trying to figure out how much it was worth and posted the serial number in his inquiry. I contacted the Montreal police, who said they would put an investigator on it. Yeah, I'm sure they got right on that. I do hope my guitar and I are reunited someday. It does happen. I have heard stories of people finding their stolen guitars many years later. I have hope.
So, what kind of song do I write to capture all of this? Early iterations of this song had an angry ring to them. I was out for blood. I'm not sure where I stand now. While circumstances have given me a superior instrument with which I am creating new memories and experiences, it still makes me sad to think about the loss I endured to get here. Ah...well...as they say, I'll get a song out of it.