I hosted an open mic night Friday night - not only the open mic, but a whole "First Friday" evening at my work. It was interesting, and fun - kept me on my toes, etc. - and I got paid a bit extra for it. The night started with me introducing a bunch of classes (the Dead, Reggae, Beatles and Wilco ensembles, to name a few...) which would then perform two songs, and then after they were all done, I introduced the featured performer of the evening. It was great. THEN came the open mic portion of the evening...7 people were chosen in a drawing to perform, and at 10:40, when it was time for them to start, the concert hall cleared completely (which was understandable given the late time and winding down of the rest of the evening's events - the square dance, craft b'zar, string jam, etc.). But the empty place must have been a bummer for the open mic-ers.
So, as I stepped onto the stage and looked out at 400 or so empty seats and the 12 other people in the room (yes, 12 - here is the math: 7 performers, 1 sound guy, 2 friends of one performer, 1 teacher who works at the school and was just watching for a couple songs, and 1 woman who was at a back table the whole night), I went into it thinking that I'd just make the best of it; find something good about each of these performances. They each had 8 minutes, and I was ready to be impressed with the whole place and be happy that these folks all had a chance to perform on the vaunted stage and get it over with.
WELL. The first two performers were Ok, actually one of them was great. Then it started going downhill in this crazy, slo-mo nightmare. The performers would each get up there, and they would play their songs and sing their lyrics and I swear to god, each one of them showed themselves to be seriously psychotic or sociopathic in some way, and that became more and more apparent as each minute ticked by. There was the guy who couldn't play guitar at all and CLEARLY made up the words to his repetitive "blues" songs as he went along, though he said he wrote the songs the week before, there was the sneaker-clad folkie guy (middle aged yuppie by day) who didn't realize that the 60s were over and no one wants a boring but well-structured folk song anymore, there was the good-looking but absolutely vapid guy who sang to hear himself sing, but his lyrics were like, "oh you passed away today I can't say goodbye to you, oh no no not today you say" and so on, in no way making sense, and then there was the guy who got all flustered when I called him up there - actually not bad just needed to practice more - but he freaked, jumped up and pulled out an OLD tape recorder, a mic and cord, attached it all up and asked me to un-pause it so he could record his performance, then when he got onto the stage he said "I wish I would have known I was next" and launched into an America song, badly, and it scared me. The other guy had a highish, good voice, but a psycho demeanor as he sang about America raping countries and wailed fast on his guitar and grinned and giggled from behind his giant bushy beard. Yikes.
I don't know if I like music anymore.
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2 comments:
I used to work every open mic night at The Mill for way too many years. If I ever hear, "Knock, Knock, Knockin' on Heaven's Door" one more time, I might get violent.
I used to book a lot of bands in Dayton as well as do their logos and artwork, but luckily, most of them were decent. I've been conned into watching one or two American Idol shows over the year, usually in the begining when most of the horrible singers are showcased. My one question is; Don't these people have any friends or family that care about them. People who would record their horrible warblings and forcing them to face reality. Someone who would just say "No".
The Writhing of Something Nailed Down In Torment
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