The Art and Science of Solo Gigs

-the story continued
service at Unity San Luis Obispo I got to see how my rawness and spontaneity in a song written only hours before the service would play out. I saw how the willingness on my part to ride the wave of the emotion I had when I penned the song would impact the congregation.

Over time it became important to have and drink in a moment of silence after the song knowing that the vibration of the song and the performance was being integrated by each in their own way. I saw tears at times and breathed in the knowing that I had touched someone's heart deeply. That was the best applause. I believe many people sing because they feel authentic and visible. And the audience is there to witness them as a human being, as someone alive. And, as long as you can connect with someone, it is all worth it.

A solo gig is one of the biggest risks because it is simply just you...alone. An instrument and a voice sharing one to one, for the most part. Playing with others is wonderful and there is a great exhilaration in the additional instrumentation and harmonies and energy. It is a band of brothers and sisters, united over and over for 3-4 minutes in each song, giving their talent, their inspirations, their blessing to that which was flowing in the now moment. 30 to 40 times a night in a typical gig putting ourselves on the line, riding waves of energy, connecting with people in ways that may not be a part of our day job life.

But sometimes in a band you have to deal with personalities and problems and moods and disagreements and competition. Sure these can provide an artistic angst that translates into more powerful music...for awhile. Even Lennon and McCartney broke up. Sharing self night after night, song after song, is a challenge...too often just wrung out when it was done. Even doing Peaceful Easy Feeling for the 100th time had a cost to the Eagles. And depending on the transparency of the connection and communication between band members it elevated the love between or it polarized members who then would start to seek allies in the other members...a sure sign that the unprocessed was seeding up an ending.

When you sing and play alone none of this is an issue. It is all just between you and you. If you practice your songs enough then you have the technical stuff covered. And there is a fine line between interpreting a song and playing a song. For the audience to feel you they have to feel you. Virtuosos are incredible, but what often is lacking is the human connection, the need for the mistake to see how the player would handle it. People yearn for authenticity because that is where hearts are open and there is that ambiguous feeling of Oneness. C'mon, a slick show may be a feast for the eyes, but where does the heart go during that? You walk away dazzled but unfulfilled.

As a solo artist I am always riding that edge of being a note away from stumbling...a wrong chord, a misplaced vocal, an out of tune vocal, a lapse in memory. But, for me, that is where the fun is. People really want to see what you do with it. Do you ignore it like it never happened, like a fart in a crowd? Do you get all pissed and then make more mistakes? Or do you acknowledge it and play with it, having fun by letting people know that you heard it too...people want people, real people, who can make a mistake and be even more engaging afterwards. I have learned to flow when I play solo. It feels better for everyone. They want to see you warts and all. In fact, they like you more when you stand there face to face with them.

Playing solo means I split the money only one way. It means that I have to carry all the equipment. It means that I get to go home with the chicks. It means that I get to also go home alone, more often that than the other way. Solo is lonesome, it's a joy, it's a challenge, it's forcing myself to show up, it's really feeling what nervous is like and moving with it, it's being spontaneous, it forces me to engage with everyone there, it invites me to be ok when no one is listening or doesn't applaud. Can you feel me here? I love solo and prefer it because I can play what I want when I want it, and if tonight I want to sing Feelings in a 5/4 just like Dave Brubeck's Take Five...then I can. I am free to interpret the moment, work the energy of the room, engage the people together or one on one. It is a walk on my personal edge from start to finish.

I always feel like somebody's watching me...well they are. Do they like me? Am I good enough? Will they give me a tip? Will they tell the manager that they like me here? Are they going to drink enough to justify music here? Do I really have to sing that fucking song, Tie a Yellow Ribbon, one more time? Wow, she's pretty...damn her boyfriend is giving me stink eye...should I take a break? How much longer do I have to play? My voice is hurting...my back aches...these boots are too tight..."It's 9 o'clock on a Saturday"... who shall I talk to on the break? oh, yeah, there she is again...I was hoping she was coming in tonight!..."If everybody had an ocean, across the USA"...oh no, she's leaving! It's always between me and me when I do solo. What an adventure!

As a solo artist I paid attention to my role in the club. I was providing mostly background while these people waited to be seated for dinner. They probably want to talk so I have to choose quieter songs and keep the volume in check. I learned to read people and determine their involvement with the music. I know a ton of songs so I was usually able to fulfill a request...and that usually meant a tip. I had to watch the flow, reducing volume when the waiter came to seat them, pick it up when some couple suddenly felt like dancing...but not too much to interfere with the people eating. I love it. It was living solidly in the moment. I never mailed it in. Every song I did and do is chosen to fit the mood, my insight into a couple, my intuition, the vibe, my intention to move the energy in a certain direction. All of that takes place in the now moment, while I am playing and likely singing. I look at people even if they were not paying attention. It always gave me information about the next song. If one song worked, then what can I do that is similar to work this opening? What do I feel like playing? Ah, it's closing time, what do I want to leave them with? G'night! Straight home now!

Every solo artist has a personality on stage. There is a style that resonates with people and draws them back for more on another night or even after the meal. We all love to play. And we all are taking big risks all through the night. No matter what is going on inside of us, what has happened during the course of the day, what we are feeling...it all has to go into the song. And for us, that is the beauty of it. We are providing therapy for ourselves...and for an audience of perfect strangers, because that is what music does. It touches people deeply, reminds them of a time or a place or a person. It brings up the unspoken and steers the conversation in a direction without them even realizing it. Yes, there is a science to singing solo, predictable choices that get repetitive results. And yes, there is the art a well. Every night that person singing in front of you is dancing the flowing edge, having a personal experience with their own inner world while they massage your energy to assist you in having a quality evening with your beloved.

I love this life...this singer songwriter life of celebrating transparency and vulnerability, bringing beauty to the inner worlds of one and all...I guess if you gotta make a living....



Questions? Email me at markoffice@markstantonwelch.net

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