The pub was a nice welcoming place (as pubs should be, I suppose), low lighting and plenty of space in front of the performance area which was handliy located by the door for a sharp exit if needs be. We had been told things would kick off between 8:00 and 8:30. This sounded nice and early for a school night. Not being real proper musos like the Watercats, we had to think of our sad little day jobs…
We arrived nice and early, got seats for ourselves and our cheering section (serveral friends, who had generouly donated their free time to come and listen to a couple of eejits with guitars).
And we waited…
The hour approached, but still nothing seemed to be happening as hard as it could.
DFTP went and enquired and suddenly it was all going to be happening from 9:00 to 9:30. A whole extra hour to wait/drink/need the loo/be sick and get nervous in.
We made small talk with our cheering seciton and drank moderately (drinking and singing do NOT go well for me). We perused lyrics (as if it was going to make any difference at this stage of the game!). Several other people with guitar-shaped objects made an appearance. Then finally, finally, a chap satarted setting up mics and speakers and cables and whatnot… bongos even!
Aforementioned chap eventually finished twiddling this and adjusting that and stepped up to the mic.
Not long now, eh?
Turns out he was the resident geezer who sort of ran the whole programme. He did a few songs. (and was waaaaay better than we were going to be, so not intimidated at all then!)
Then it was our turn – first up after the resident guy. It was obvious from the banter that the other guitar-shaped-object toters were regulars there, so we were the newbies, still green and wet behind the ears, treading with anxious feet into their territory.
We got plugged in and miked up with minimal fuss. So far so good.
Then it was all over and people were clapping and congratulating us on an “interesting” set. I’m wondering if they meant “interesting” in the sesnse of the old Chinese proverb,
Wait! What happened at the gig?
Can’t remember, sorry.
OK, that’s an exaggeration, but it is almost as bad as that. The time just flew past. We did four songs, versions of which appear on our ReverbNation thingies.
The Tattered Remnamts
Days Like These
Where the Hell are You Tonight
I wasn’t so much nervous, more keyed-up and excited, and this did not make for great diaphragm control in the first couple of songs. Plus, it’s been a dog’s age since I actually sang into a mic so wasn’t really doing it right (plus the sound man did not give me any volume to start with for some reason, although this improved as we went along). So I didn’t think I sounded that great. DFTP could only hear himself and couldn’t hear me (I couldn’t hear him either) so it was maybe a bit disjointed I think.
By song three, we were both starting to relax and enjoy ourselves a bit. I could hear myself better as had moved the mic to a better place and was getting some decent volume at last. This was….ok, it felt nice….
And then it was all over.
I wanted to stay and do more…
We got some applause, though, and organiser-blokie asked if we were coming back again. We assumed he was joking, but apparently not! Wow! I was sure we’d be given the old “yeah, thanks, see you around” sort of response, but he seemed to actually mean it.
We stuck around to hear the other performers, and they were all much more polished than us – and I think more accomplished as musicians. But at least we did our own songs and we got through them without cocking anything up too much – result!
Get used to a mic and amplification again.
Don’t drink cider beforehand
Now, you’ll be wondering where the hell the video is. Weeeeeeell. Suffice it to say that the person charged with the task of capturing this momentous occasion in music history forgot to charge the camera batteries.
All we have is this 42-second snippet from a hastily hoiked-out mobile phone. Not even a whole song but proof, if any were needed, that we were there.