‘Nother Fillmore Gig in the bag and lessons learned

I dunno – there’s a way that feels really good to write. I just played my 4th Fillmore gig, this time at Poster Room at the Ani DiFranco show. It was, like most of my music stuff lately, kind of intense and wonderful. I played a decent first set, but was in a totally whacked headspace.

First, I’d eaten very little all day. I was sorta frantic getting a CD of The Missing Song printed. I burned the song onto CD and the label was a recent studio shot with a few sentences about the project. I felt it was pretty alright for a rush job.

But my cheap-ass printer couldn’t manage to correctly or consistently print a single one of 20 sheets of high-gloss cd-labels. Frustrating to say the least, when you’re packing your gear for a gig you’ve been looking forward to for a long time, and you can’t get a single decent CD printed. Over and Over…. OMG.

I really, really wanted to give one to Ani – who I’ve long admired for her musical activism, her truth-speaking and her independence as an artist. And I’m eager to share the project with anyone I can. Especially other cause-related musician types. Especially well-connected ones.

I’m clearly not as deep into her has the fans who were at the Fillmore, though. It was inspiring and really kind of heart-rending, too, to see her totally owning that room. It was insane. Girl power, indeed.

I had a “Golden Opportunity” to give my CD of the song, too. I’d just put all my stuff down on the stage in the Poster Room, which is where the Fillmore feeds the band, the crew, the roadies, the drivers and the cleanup crew. (But not the Lounge Act, which made my low blood sugar even more depressed.)

Anyway, Ani was there with her family and band, and I totally did not want to intrude. But she was like 10 feet from me and my CD. I heard her say she was going to warm up, she stood and left the table to go back to her dressing room. My golden moment shined for a few seconds and then disappeared into the shadows of the Fillmore balcony.

I honestly don’t know what happened. On the one hand, I was there to do a job, literally – play my best set ever. I had 20 minutes to set up and sound check, and the guy who ran the room was sitting right next to the stage. I also felt apprehensive about being an opportunistic self-promoter. I definitely did not want to “barge into her space.”

I froze and that was that. I tried a few other trajectories throughout the night to cross paths with her, but it didn’t happen and I left the Fillmore with the CD I’d signed for Ani DiFranco.

I was bummed.

Anyway, the first set itself was OK. I was already exhausted from an insane month at work, on an empty stomach, and having just failed to act decisively at a moment I’d actually manifested/imagined prior coming to the Fillmore. Oh, and I forgot my set list. This all does not add up so well for a rockin show. But my friends were there to support me (paying $54 for tickets!), I wolfed a very tasty burger between sets and kicked ass for all three songs of the second set, if I don’t say so myself.

I was one line away from finishing Unamerican when a tattooed dude walks in from the hallway crossing his throat with his hand and hyper enunciating something I couldn’t quite make out, but it was clear enough between his gesture and the rising sounds of a roaring crowd in the main room.

I didn’t finish the song. (Mustn’t upset the authorities!!!) I had one of those after-the-fact epiphanies today that I should have just stood up and sung the rest of it a Capella. But I didn’t… Guess what I’m gonna do next time someone cuts my mic in the middle of “Unamerican?” All respect to not bleeding into Ani’s set, which had already started, but I could’ve finished the song. I don’t really feel guilty about that (anymore). Instead, I feel optimistic and grateful for the learning/growing experience as a musician. Like I said, it was intense and wonderful.

Lessons Learned:
– eat before a show/bring food
– don’t work so hard at work to the exclusion of music
– have a songlist of all the songs I know ready. Ideally a fakebook or something.
– checklist of “everything Ian needs for a gig”
– when the moment comes, stand up and say something, even if you feel stuck, scared, or unworthy.
– everything is continually perfect.