“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 fiancé 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?
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