My First Experience As A Solo Acoustic Musician, Part 1
Part 1 — Too Long In Exile
I’ve been telling a story for the past few weeks, but I’m unsure how to write about it. I can’t do it in one brief piece, so this is Part 1 of a multi-part story. However, I’ll get to the point quickly.
Before I do, this isn’t just a story about me and what happened recently. It’s a story about support, faith, and gratitude. It’s about never saying “never.” It’s about fate, fortune, friendship, and finally defeating the low self-esteem monster.
Two weeks ago, I played a gig as a solo acoustic musician (SAM), singing for the first time as a soloist. I’ve been a musician since childhood, but I had never sung in public by myself with no other accompaniment. Yes, it was a step outside of my comfort zone fifty-eight years in the making.
How long?
You read that right, fifty-eight years, more specifically, forty-four years after starting my first band. I’ve been playing guitar since I was a kid. I can play that thing pretty well for someone who never got paid a lot to do so. At least that’s what I’ve heard people say.
I never did a lot of singing, though. I’ve done the background stuff (“Don’t have to live like a ref-u-jay-hay”) while playing guitar behind a lead singer, but I never stepped out front and was never asked to. I never wanted to, and some suggested that my voice was better suited to just playing the guitar, thank you, and I listened to them.
Something in the back of my mind always said I wanted to sing, but I never had confidence in my voice. I never liked it, and others have occasionally told me they didn’t either. The dissenting voices were always louder than the encouraging ones, and since I couldn’t beat them, I joined them.
I stopped playing in bands long ago but did a few fill-in gigs for some very gracious friends a few years ago. I got into another band, and that fizzled. I thought the band thing was over for good, but I didn’t put the guitar away.
Things changed unexpectedly in the last year and again over the past month. After thinking the music stuff might be over a year ago, a friend suggested we get the band back together (God, I hate writing that cliche), and we did it late last summer. It’s been fun, reinvigorating, and rewarding, even though limited practice time means we’re still far from playing out.
Next Man Up
When our singer couldn’t make it to practice in May, the other two bandmates, both music teachers, pushed me out front to do the singing. “You can do it. Everybody can sing,” they said. Of course they’d say that. It’s their freaking DAY JOB to tell kids that.
But they were sincere, encouraging, and finally made me a believer. I didn’t plan to give up the guitar job, though, and couldn’t wait for my buddy, Shawn, to return to practice and sing at next month’s practice. Still, I thought I’d practice singing a little more and maybe hit an open mic night sometime soon and play three or four songs.
I thought my voice sounded a little better than I’d remembered. To my ears, it sounds better since I had surgery in March, but that might be my imagination. The surgery required doctors to go up through my nose while a breathing tube was in my throat.
That’s my story.
I’m sticking to it.
But that’s only the beginning.
The Gazebo Tour
I haven’t practiced singing while my wife and daughter are home for a couple of reasons. One is that I don’t want to disturb them, as it can be a little loud, especially when amplified. The other is that I don’t want them to disturb me with any number of interruptions or commentary on what they hear.
I’ve been saying for years that I should just sit at a gazebo somewhere and play, not busking for tips, but just for fun. Almost every village in the area has a gazebo, and few are ever used for anything. Most of the time, there’s no activity anywhere near them.
So I decided I’d run out to a gazebo and play. I thought I might even sing if nobody was around. I found one next to a creekside waterfall in Batavia, NY, on a Saturday afternoon and started playing.
There wasn’t anyone around for most of my time there, and the few people who ventured by didn’t seem to be bothered. They didn’t even pay attention. One kid came by to go fishing in the creek and stared at me as if he couldn’t believe someone was sitting there playing a guitar and singing.
A week later, I heard from Beth, a former classmate, and friend on Facebook that I hadn’t seen in ages. She signed on to host a porchfest in her community about 50 miles away, near Buffalo, NY. A porchfest is an organized, outdoor community event where individuals will host musicians, and other performing artists at their homes or businesses.
Beth asked if I’d be interested in performing. I wasn’t sure if she knew that I hadn’t performed as a singer at such a thing before. It would be my debut, not as a solo musician, but as a solo musician singing and accompanying myself. And rather than being at an open mic night where a performer plays three or four songs, it would be a complete one-hour set.
I told her I’d do it. I committed. Oh shit! What did I just do?
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