It’s weird when you get to the point where people chastize you for not making a big enough deal over yourself or some event that is yours.
It’s an incredible compliment, that people think you are worth making a fuss over – That you are actually being somewhat remiss NOT making the fuss.
I played my first solo show ever tonight. And when I say ever, I mean it. Before I joined the band, I only played open mics as a hobby, having long-abandoned my musical ambitions of childhood for the relentless pursuit of my journalism degree. I had never performed more than three songs in a row solo (these at open mics) … and never been booked or even pursued a booking as a solo performer. My first appearance on stage with ilyAIMY, Nov. 16, 2001, was the first time I ever took the stage as a booked performer. And I have played every gig since with at least rob – and always under the banner of ilyAIMY.
So my solo outing: It was a very recent sort of decision so that rob could go to the HFStival and we could keep our booking committment that night. It was Amy’s birthday and Gwen’s graduation party. I expected little, and I made little fuss, because I wouldn’t want anyone to feel the least bit obligated to come see me play, just because I was playing alone, when other major life events were taking place all over. This also means that, having no sense of obligating anyone, I would not feel bad if the turnout was small. I would not look at who didn’t come, who I thought might but didn’t, and be disappointed or feel weirdly unloved.
And it was my first … so I had no idea how it would go. If it went well, I would know that I could do it again with all the fanfare … and if it sucked, maybe hardly anyone would be there to tell the tale, and I would have learned my lesson away from the watchful eyes of others. 🙂
Let me also say this. Individual identity is incredibly important to me. I am a late-comer to ilyAIMY, and rob is its undisputed standard bearer. I am a partner, but I did not carry the child to term. So these days, since so much of my life is ilyAIMY, it’s even more important to me to have some sense of self and of my own contributions to that enterprise as well as elsewhere. To be a singer-songwriter unto myself and recognizable. To be a valued contributor. To be someone who people would want to see and listen to independent of my ilyAIMY identity, where I can hide my mediocre guitar skills deftly behind rob.
Playing the ovation again reminds me of my beginings. I have come so far when I come back to this little guitar. My hands feel differently on it. So, no solo tour or anything, no real desire to do lots of shows on my own, but it is definitely important not to forget myself. Not to be content to hide my failings behind a gifted partner.
So the verdict after the fact: It was fun. It was strange. It was more crowded than I thought it would be (at least 40 people in the crowded little coffeeshop), and I was more nervous than I imagined I would be. I sold a couple CDs. People showed who promised they would. Random people came who I would have never thought I’d see. I made a very funny, completely inadvertent joke. I did a neat cover of “Every Breath You Take,” and Ani DiFranco’s “Sorry I Am,” along with my stuff. And all in all, I think I could do it again. I could probably do it with a little fanfare even. 🙂
It’s extremely hard to walk the fine line between knowing accurately your worth and tastefully celebrating it versus being an arrogant prick. I’ve never dwelled comfortably in that range. I think it’s important that people have realistic views of themselves so other people don’t think they are pompous idiots, or sadly deluded. I like to be objective when it comes to my talents or virtues. I’d rather judge myself too harshly than kid myself about something.
At the same time, there is something beautiful about those people who can do that sparkling self-confidence and charisma thing. Who can make others believe they are talented or interesting because they know how to make people believe it, or believe it so strongly themselves that no one could imagine questioning it. Or they know EXACTLY what their talents are and they have an accurate view of their blessings. My ex-boyfriend was great at interviews because he talked like a person of action. He talked like he had already accomplished his dreams. And he had the most magnificent blue-green-sometimes grey eyes to drive the point home. When I saw him recently, he told me about all the things his band is doing now, and he talked just the same way he had years ago. God, it’s a skill I’ve always envied.
Still, I feel there is a certain advantage to starting with an assumption of sub-par. It means you can improve. I am a firm believer as people “in progress.” You have somewhere to go, and you can earn it. And then the compliments are real. I am notoriously bad at taking compliments, and I used to say that the only ones I believed were from strangers or enemies, because people had to really mean it to make the effort.
And I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with analyzing turn-out. Did they come because they love me, or did they come because they love my music? Bands with a million friends have big audiences … but is it really the compliment they think it is? Shitty musicians have lots of friends.
So I didn’t go out of my way to publicize the show.
But thanks, Tyler, for saying I should have. Thanks to my high school physics teacher for coming out without warning and buying CDs. And to Jason Cox who said he’d come be my garaunteed audience (and who I knew would be good to his word). To my mother for being cheered by the audience for driving me there to play. To Sharif’s cousin, who came with friends and even called the place to make sure they wouldn’t miss my set. To Brennan, who called to apologize for missing my set because he hurt his back. To the woman who asked my mother when I was playing in the area again.
And whether you did these things for me because you love me, or because you love my music …. at this moment, the two are indistinguishable. I am only grateful for the love, period.
