The Joys and Terrors of an Open Mic Night
If you have never been, then give it a go!
I miss live music. When this is all over, and I am optimistic enough to say when and not if, I am eagerly anticipating the pleasure of hearing melodies not mediated through my iPad or computer monitor. Not that I am not appreciative of the innovative use of technology to stream music or to have the opportunity to participate in an online performance challenge. However, the virtual can never be the same as the atmosphere and ambiance of a real, in the flesh event. Particularly, I am waiting for the return of a local open mic night and in a spirit of nostalgia for the erstwhile evening out, let me share some recollections of my last, pre-pandemic visit.
February 2020
I’m on stage next. My name is third on the list of tonight’s performers. I will follow Bob, who is flipping through his pile of potential songs and deciding on which two numbers he will sing. Bob looks very composed and confident as he makes his way onto the stage, guitar in hand. He is a regular at this open mic event, and most weeks he is here. His rich baritone voice delivering old country and western tunes from long-dead artists of whom I have never even heard.
This evening I’m barely listening to Bob’s rendition of an Ernest Tubb song because I am desperately trying to control the rising panic as my moment draws near. My heart is thumping in my chest and a cool bead of anxious perspiration has formed on my forehead. Then it is me, I’m on the stage and hoping no one notices that my leg seems to shake uncontrollably. The spotlights are in my eyes. It is, however, a good thing as I can’t see the audience and I can try to ignore the fact that all those people are looking at me. There I am, blinded by the light, and ready to give it all I’ve got.
The two songs I am going to play, I have practiced over and over at home until perfect, but now with every eye on me, I forget a chord change, mumble a lyric and I cannot stop myself from playing at breakneck speed. I notice every mistake that I make but fortunately, no one else seems to. As they all politely clap, I make my way back to my seat. My ordeal is over.
But if it is the torment which I have described, why then would I and countless others choose to go back time after time and do it all over again? Why subject myself to all that anxiety and stress? It is because there is a payback. A flow of energy and positive affirmation from the audience and the adrenaline thrill of nervousness like the rush of a roller coaster ride. The open mic night is a chance to perform in front of an audience, whether it is a personal take on a well-known Dylan classic or a composition you have penned yourself. It is about loving music, loving to share music, and enjoying the company of others who feel the same.
The audience at an open mic will vary from venue to venue. There are some open mics where the artists have carefully to choose the material that they can belt out with full gusto. This is to rise above the chatter of a crowd for whom the music is secondary to the conversation. These are the places where quiet and delicate musicianship can be lost under the general hum of a lively and busy bar. There are others where the audience primarily wants to listen to the performers. Chit-chat is at a minimum or left out completely until the breaks between the evening’s separate sets. Those who put themselves on the line, get up on the stage, and share their passion for the song, are given the full attention they deserve. These are the open mics where it is the music that is at the heart of the ethos of the event and anyone who loves music and wants to share it, is welcome to give it a go.
An open mic is not an audition. There isn’t a row of X-factor judges to criticise or condemn, but just a group of people encouraging each other and enjoying the show. This of course means that there is an entire range of abilities to be seen, from the consummate performer with years of experience to the youngster who still has more enthusiasm than artistry but who is learning their skills in a positive and supportive environment.
I have been to open mics where I have heard earnest recitals of poignant poetry and deep soulful bass singing. I have witnessed a man well into his eighties and hardly able to make it onto the stage silence the room with a virtuoso performance on a violin. There have been banjos and ukuleles and breathtaking harmonies sung a cappella. I have enjoyed foot-tapping jigs on an accordion and ad hoc collaborations between those whose passion is music, not genre. There are traditional folk singers and raucous rock singers, there is risqué humour and melancholy love songs and sometimes all on the same night.
So when we are able, and live music venues can shake off the cobwebs and welcome back the crowds, then it will be to an open mic that I will make my first port of call.
Never mind the huge stadium gigs or the professional bands, there will be time enough for that later. I am going to take my guitar, sign up for a slot and get up on stage, and sing.
