I played a gig the other day, my first in about nine months. In the meantime, I've played just about every day in my house or wherever. The show on Saturday was something else.
I went into it feeling pretty well-rehearsed. I know these songs inside and out. Of my seventy-five or so songs in recent years, there are about thirty that I practice regularly.
Playing outdoors is another matter. The acoustics had less to bounce from and the weather is an uncontrollable variable. It was a pleasant day, other than the 50 mph winds.
If I had the foresight, I would have brought duct tape. Luckily, the sound guy had some and taped down the mic stand. Otherwise it would have tipped over at every opportunity. It's hard to play guitar if one hand is also trying to prevent the singer (same guy) from getting hit in the teeth with the microphone.
The unhindered wind upon the stage drew a straight line from me to Nebraska. Mid-song, it occurred to me that I should write my address inside my hat in case anyone ever wants to mail it back to me.
The downhill breath of the mountains was relentless and fierce, the kind of force that gathers actual tumbleweed amidst the parked cars. The extra oxygen being forced into my lungs may have pushed me to play my songs a little faster than usual. Most of my four minute songs seemed to be clocking in somewhere under three. It was one of those rare moments in life when a cape and/or slow motion videography might have been wholly appropriate. That is to say that it was really fucking windy.
Fun fact about wind: all those moving particles generate static electricity. Every time I got too close to the mic, I grounded that electricity. A few times, it went through my teeth, which is the closest any of my performances have ever come to discount dentistry. My hair was particularly curly that day. Singing while getting shocked at random intervals and intensities is exactly as difficult as it sounds. But I guess that's rock and roll, right? Right?
Other than that, it was fun. I enjoyed performing my music for the first time in months.
In the words of Peter Gabriel, "Shock the monkey." Indeed. Wise words that never made sense until now, though I'm still not sure what it means to be one's sledge hammer.
Thank you for supporting local, independent music. I appreciate you.
