Wednesday 28 October 2009

Gig No. 2, Sound, Leicester Square, October 9 2009


Nicholas, the promoter at Dead or Alive, must have liked the first gig. It was down to the quality of music or the number of people I got along. Hopefully both. Either way, we had a long chat on the phone the next week and he offered me a slot at one of his regular band nights in central London.

Now this was a tough one. Instead of just turning up at a venue with a guitar slung over my back, this time I had to organise a band. And by the end of Gig No. 2 I had a newfound respect for hard working gigging bands.

In short, I was so happy to be offered a gig in Piccadilly Circus of all places that I accepted before I even had an idea of who could play in the band. Then a couple of days later God, chance, or Fate arranged for me to bump into my old school friend Rich Norris. Whereas I can only claim to be a musician in the loosest possible terms (holding a guitar seems to just about fool people) Rich is a true virtuoso. He studies, teaches, and breathes music and when I mentioned my gig he instantly said, “when is it?” and “how can I help?”. He plays with a bunch of similarly talented guys and he arranged for us all to get together for a couple of rehearsals. A word must be said about rehearsal studios in London. First, there are surely hundreds of amazing bands out there practising every night because finding a good place to rehearse at short notice is… harder than trying to think of a god analogy. Second, don’t be fussy about the kind of place you get at short notice. I managed to get us time in a studio in Shoreditch for our first rehearsal, which had the worst smell of damp and mould I have ever experienced. It was like practising in a dungeon. And the microphone they provided must have had swine flu, SARS, and the bubonic plague all living happily as some big family. The second place we rehearsed the next week had some sort of electrical short that kept putting us into complete darkness. And for the rest of the time there was a constant buzz through the sound system that only stopped when I put my finger on the microphone. Worrying.

Anyway, we didn’t need much practice as the guys in the band were pros. The rest of my time in the evenings was taken up with promoting the gig, mainly through Facebook. It really became like a second full time job. In fact I spent more time “managing” myself than actually practising.

A couple of weeks before the gig, I got word from the promoter that the venue had just changed hands to become a “Tiger Tiger” bar, and they didn’t want live music anymore. This was a really central venue and I was looking forward to telling people I would be playing in the heart of London. I needn’t have held my breath for long though, as the replacement venue was “Sound” right in Leicester Square. This was perhaps even more central and seemed like a dream come true. Reality caused a few problems though.

The day of the gig came around and we were asked to get to a soundcheck by 4pm. What with people working, studying, or coming from miles away this was a little hard to do, and we all turned up rather late. Too late for a soundcheck. So we just took a chance. The next problem was the location, which was a blessing and a curse at the same time. If you’ve ever tried driving around London at any time of the day, you deserve a medal. But if you’ve ever tried driving up to Leicester Square at 7pm on a Friday night when you don’t really know where you’re going and you’ve got to unload a carload of instruments then you’re the star of the evening and lead guitarist Tek, who deserves a knighthood. I won’t even mentioned how far away he had to park, or how long it took to bring the car back to load up again at the end of the night. He is a true star.

Slowly but surely many of my friends turned up, some bringing with them more friends. The word was beginning to spread, which was quite exciting.

So, the time came. We were all set up and ready to go. I turned around to face an empty dance floor, with everyone hidden on the edges. What with the lights it was a little hard to see people but I knew they were all looking at me. My newly acquired checked shirt was hopefully impressing with its geek chic (I had narrowly avoided buying a t shirt for £75 the previous day). The first song was Girl With The Flower in Her Hair, which I started with last time but somehow didn’t feel right. This time, when I got to the chorus and the band kicked in I knew it was right. I won’t go through each song but we started off upbeat, slowed it right down (and sat down) for Smile, and picked things up with a cover of Gimme Some Lovin. The band play a lot of weddings, so consequently know a lot of covers. This was one I thought would go down well, but no one danced! I had even put my guitar down and was doing my best front man swagger. Half way through that song I jumped off stage, pulled a bunch of glowsticks out my bag, cracked them, and threw them on the floor. (I have no idea why I do the things I do, and perhaps I looked a bit silly but right then I didn’t care – afterwards people commented that it was a nice touch, although I think they were being polite). Throughout the rest of the set the glowsticks disappeared to tables and into people’s hair but no one seemed to be staying on the dance floor.

The set was over in what felt was record time. I could have continued, but I didn’t have any more songs and my voice was starting to give out. It was job done. Success!

Chatting to people afterwards it seemed they thought the set was quite short and at times they couldn’t hear me over the band. This was a little annoying in that I had spent ages trying to get the words right for Gimme Some Lovin’ before finally getting them completely wrong. At least no one noticed.

I stuck around until much later and it gradually turned into a trendy hip hop club. Someone actually shook their head at my Converse shoes in the toilets. I later found out that my new friends Vanessa and Melissa (who came all the way from Canada, although not just to see me) had spoken to someone about the venue earlier in the day and discovered it mostly plays urban music. Who knows what they were expecting, but I’m certainly no Eminem.

Overall, for my first ever band gig I was really happy. People were beginning to see that I could do these songs live and loud. And I think I won over a few more fans. Word soon got around to people at work the next week, and I started getting questions about my next gig. Everything was going as planned. However, it was so much effort organising rehearsals, promoting the night, and playing that I was pretty sure I would need some help if things got any bigger. But that didn’t stop me immediately accepting the next gig I was offered for Christmas.

The next day was my birthday, and I had a plane to New York to catch. It was time for a break. Except that for the whole week I was thinking about how I could keep things going. This was quite an addictive game to play! A final word is reserved for the guys who made that night happen – Michael, Stuart, Tek, and Rich OUTSTANDING.

Tuesday 29 September 2009

Gig No. 1, The Old Queen’s Head, Islington, August 16 2009


“Fear. The uncontrollable feeling of inevitability that something is creeping up on you and there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s a weight, or more than that a dull pressure on your chest perhaps signalling the first throes of an adrenaline rush. But it’s not quite there yet and you can’t speed up the passing of time to just get it over with.”

I booked my first gig a month before it was due to take place on August 16. It was to be my first gig in nearly two years, and more than that it would be a solo acoustic gig. Just me and my guitar to entertain people for a full half hour. And I hadn’t done any warm up gigs or open mic nights to prepare. Just a few snatched moments in my room alone, and a couple of times down at the rehearsal studios by King’s Cross. Going on stage the following day would be a baptism of fire. Worse than that it was not as though I could run away if it all went wrong. A lot of people very kindly said they would come to support me. I think seeing me up on stage was to be a bit of a novelty but they would also see for the first time what I was really like live. And so would I.

The next day came and I went to work as normal. On arriving home I dashed into my room, shut the door and grabbed my guitar. Fresh strings were still in tune. On tips of fingers calluses had been hastily formed. Capo still clamped on guitar head. In all my preparation I hadn’t thought for a moment about clothes. I confidently turned down an offer of make up from my housemate Rachel, settling instead for a smidge of wax in the hair and an extra squirt of Hackett.

I headed off down the street, guitar slung over my back. It was only a ten minute walk to the gig venue. The Old Queen’s Head on Essex Road, Islington, was to be the place it all began. I arrived there to find a few of my old uni friends already at the bar, including Chris and Dibble. Chris has brought another friend with him. I took a quiet moment to think how brilliant it was that people were bringing their friends to my gig. More people gradually arrived. My boss Sarah brought her fiancĂ© and her brother. My other friend Sarah brought her sister. And some friends came alone, which was just as fantastic.

We were stuck in the “holding area” downstairs waiting for things to get set up in the room above. I was called upstairs by Nicholas, who manages the night under the guise of “Dead or Alive” promoters. I arrived to an empty room. It was a large Victorian-looking room with very high ceilings, raised stage on one side, the bar to the left, and enormous bay windows with light pouring in the other side.

I sat down on the stool, adjusted the mic, and plugged in my guitar. So far, so good. A quick rendition of “Ain’t no sunshine”. Voice sounded ok. Levels were balanced. This could be alright. I was to be on first and went to collect my friends from downstairs. One by one, up they came, were stopped at the door, paid their money (they were actually paying to see me!) and took their seats. An amazing 25 people in all came through that door. There was one conspicuous person missing from this group – the lady behind the bar. I had been hoping that people would have had at least a couple of drinks but the bar was still closed and we were all sober!

I’m still trying to remember the setlist. In future I’ll make a proper note of it. But I know I started with “Ain’t no sunshine”. There’s something pretty cool about that song and I think the familiarity sets everyone at ease. Applause and smiles. Good. Next up was “Girl with the flower in her hair” – a song that I hadn’t recorded and not many people knew. Again applause. I was really beginning to enjoy things, but was ever mindful of what it would be like it I was in the audience. I had to keep it interesting but it was just me and my guitar and not an awful lot of skill. In other words I wasn’t going to break out into a screaming guitar solo.

If this bit seems a bit vague, it’s because I can’t remember too much about it. The two things I do remember are that everyone listened intently for the full half hour, and they looked like they were enjoying it. For the rest of it, well, I guess that’s why people don’t write their own reviews. I do know that somewhere in all that I took a moment to quickly explain how I wanted to play in front of the President in less than 100 gigs. It’s safe to say that the looks I got were similar to all the others I get at the moment. But more on that another time.

Stepping off stage I had more than a couple of drinks bought for me. I’d like to think I persuaded the bar lady upstairs with my dulcet tones but it was probably the captive audience that did it. It was great to chat with everyone later as I made my way round friends and colleagues. I was still surprised that a. I knew that many people, and b. that they made the effort to turn up.

A word of advice if you ever perform – don’t alienate the audience. A couple of artists later a very normal looking guy got up on stage. It quickly descended into a farce as he told us all off for talking more than once and generally made a big arse out of himself. He had chosen to write a song about each colour of the rainbow but had forgotten to learn the songs. It ended up with him flicking through his notebook to find lyrics mid-song, having sent most of the audience downstairs in an outburst because they weren’t giving their full attention. I learned a valuable lesson that night to not leave my guitar on stage and get stuck listening to crazy, rude people who dedicate songs about pink pig shit to rainbows.

So gig number one was out of the way. I’d proved myself in front of the people that knew me best. Surely I could handle anything now?