So, I jammed and went over a couple of tunes with the Orange Pickers. The fairly young brothers who play guitar and bass, with the guitar player being the front man and vocalist.
Then they said there is an open mic tonight that is far different and more of a thrill than the one where we met. The thing is this place puts everyone's name in a hat and draws it like a lottery. The have enough acts that they only give you 10 minutes.
But you are playing to an small auditorium from a great stage, with a very good sound system. The lighting is such that you can barely see the audience because the only lights are stage lights. Very professional. And quite a few people.
I didn't see or hear everyone. One guy who played piano and sang was pretty good. I wish I knew someone in the audience or that we had recorded what we did. It felt like we did pretty well, and the roar from the audience when we were done was noticeably more enthusiastic than I'd heard. We did 2 tunes and took up every bit of ten minutes.
It is crazy but I swear this is the perfect band for me. The big hitch is that I'm too old for this nonsense. I get all enthused, then I look around and panic. What am I doing? When I step back and realize how pitiful it all is, I recoil from myself in horror.
Now I am not sure what to do. The Orange kids are all eager for the next practice, or they were, and I am thinking I need to do something else because I should have outgrown this kind of thing before those kids were even born.
I hate the whole music world as it relates to me. I don't belong here, dammit.
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
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- John0 Juanderlust
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