ready set go
Just because I can sit at the piano home alone on Friday night and lose 2 hours to a sweet mix of improv and practise, doesn’t mean that will translate in front of an audience.
This is me trying to blog, trying to be active online, realizing that these grant daddies really care about internet presence and wupsies I don’t have one.
So I’ll type my thoughts.
If it’s a paid gig, I will prepare a set down to the “um” and “likes” of the playful filler banter.
If it’s a free show, a small gathering, a homemade festival — I’m a little looser. I’m a lil loser.
But I learned in the summer of 2024, there is such thing as too loose. Because when 50 people are staring at you like it’s your line, because it is your line, the mind tends to blank.
It’s only a few hours later, that all those beautiful songs you thought would sound really good, that cover that would have fit well, the bridge to the new song- they all flood back into your brain, once the pressure is off, and it’s too late.
It’s a pretty fundamental rule. Make a set. If you go off script, no one is the wiser, but at least you have a plan. One man bands need plans.
Maybe that’s what it is. Since going solo, I can literally do-whatever I want. If and when I mess up I can lean into and smash the low end of the keyboard and make a fart noise. If I forget to debut my new track that is uncomfortably honest and slightly too telling, no one asks why we didn’t play it. There is no we. Just moi.
But the other end of that double edged Japanese knife is, no is telling me I’m late to practise. Or that I forgot to practise.
No pressure, can be a problem.
Write your set down, Nat. Even and especially for the free show. Since when have you been doing this for the money; tell me when the effort was ever connected to the paycheque.
It’s similar to telling your friends you have plans, when the ‘plan’ is to drink red wine and watch a movie from 2007 so you can pretend you still have your whole life ahead of you, alone.
Plans alone are real plans.
One man bands are real bands. And real bands plan sets.
However, it should be said, there can be some magic, granted you’re in a magical setting surrounded by magical people, when there is no plan.
This last set I played; the fact that I toyed with even showing up tells you how prepared I was.
I was honest with the audience, “I’m not really sure what I’m going to do for the next hour, ha, ha, isn’t that cute-” but it inspired some very solicited advice from the crowd.
“Play the first song you ever wrote” (Not on your life, but here is one from when I was 17 that I don’t find embarassing)
“Play a song that isn’t finished yet” (Okay, you asked for it, I’m sorry, this one has the exposure turned up to 11…)
“Play a heartache song” (I’m so sorry, unfortunately I’m happily married and those songs don’t come into my head anymore…but here’s one for the homies…)
I saw Alanis Morisette a couple summers ago, her Jagged Little Pill 25 year anniversary tour. She tried; she tried to sing about having one hand in her pocket or keeping it their little secret, like she was still angry but it was so obvious: this is a mama, a wife, a forever incredible performer who shaped the world but, the songs don’t slap because- she’s not angry anymore. And I’m so happy for her. Not at all angry that I was 4 when she was in her angsty prime.
I try to sing these songs about a broken heart and a thirst for downfall- you tell me. Do you believe it?
So I guess this last time isn’t a good example of why planning sets are important. I suppose if I ever tour an album (which would, I admit, necessitate me recording and then releasing, said album) there will be particular track expectations.
All right, internet. Eat your heart out. Stay weird.
