A couple weeks ago I did something I thought I would have never done. I went to open mike night. I know, I know. Big deal, right? I’ve been performing on stage for 35 years now, so what’s one more performance?
I thought the same thing. I had gone the week before to the Kilted Mermaid to see what “open mike” was all about. There were roughly five musicians performing that night, from Donnie Haight, a very talented 14 year old singer/songwriter to a really great Celtic singer, Paul.
They were all good and we thoroughly enjoyed the evening. So the next week, I decided to give it a try. I was the second one on the bill that evening and would be doing five songs.
Now, I’ve played much bigger places before. On a packed night, the Kilted Mermaid could perhaps hold 100, I’m guessing. I’ve performed countless times for a thousand or more.
For some reason I was really nervous. I was having a bad case of stage fright. Even though I have done this many times, I was really beginning to freak out. And then it dawned on me why: I almost always perform as a pirate, not as little old me. And when I’m not in pirate gear, I’ve could always hide behind the fact that I had a band.
So there I was. Just me, on stage with my four string guitar and the audience. And the butterflies in my gut.
It’s funny how we tend to think of ourselves differently at different times. Well, at least I do. When I’m a pirate, I am invincible. I have no fear. I will do anything and do it with a lot of gusto and bravado.
But on the non-costumed flip side, I’m a very shy guy who is just as afraid of getting up in front of people as I was in middle school. Somewhere inside is that little boy, still waiting to get the approval he so desperately wants and needs.
That was who was standing on stage that night. Thankfully, I had prepared for the evening. I had rehearsed the songs I wanted to do outside the bar. But as any of my band mates will tell you, that hardly means that I will remember the chords or words to any particular song at any particular time. I liken my memory to being a jukebox. Inside is about 85 different records – the songs I know right off the top of my head. And like those records of old, they can skip now and then. They have at the oddest times, usually because I catch someone’s eye in the audience or simply space out.
As such, I try never to look at a specific person in the audience, even if it’s my girlfriend or best friend. It will automatically cause the record to skip. Instead, I do what most entertainers do. I either look right over the top of the audience or I look right through you so it appears that I acknowledge you, but I’m not really seeing you at all.
I know that I’m not alone in having stage fright. I recently heard that the bulk of singers have it too. Linda Ronstadt is famous for her stage fright, as is Shania Twain, Gladys Knight and Barbra Streisand. Being there by yourself, without anyone to back you up or cover for you is a big vulnerability. It’s like standing up there naked for the first time, hoping everyone will like what they see.
Even if they do, you’re still afraid that they won’t like it the next time they see you, or the next time or the next. As I tell others, you’re only as good as your last number or your last performance. Who hasn’t gone to see their favorite singer in concert and discover that they are having an off night. They were a little out of tune, may have been sick, or even high. They dropped a word here or there or said how much they loved “X” city, even though that’s where they were yesterday.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard friends recount the horrible concert they went to. They don’t really mention the amazing ones – it seems that only the crappy ones stick out in their minds.
I don’t want to be anyone’s crappy memory.
That said, I think the stage fright helps me keep that from happening. It triggers a little adrenaline rush that kicks my game up a notch or two. I bring a lot more energy to the performance. Not because I’m that good, but because I’m that scared.
So, why do I do it you ask? Why would I go up on stage at the Kilted Mermaid when it’s just me and not the invincible pirate guy?
It’s simple really. When you put yourself out there like that and manage to get the audience to respond to it, there is no other substance on the market today that can even come close to getting you that high. It is absolutely intoxicating. Not only are you putting yourself out there, but you’re getting this amazing energy back from the room. There’s just nothing like it on earth.
Perhaps that’s why I’ve never had to resort to trying illegal drugs. Don’t need them. I have my drug, performing in public. You can’t buy that on any street corner, I can tell you that, unless you happen to be busking there with your guitar in hand and case open, waiting for the bucks to be dropped in.
Out on the Treasure Coast, thinking I need another fix,
– Robb