Monday, March 14, 2005
Rambling Man
Occasionally I take my songs and air them out in public, see if they stink or smell OK. Recently, for example, at St. Elmo's Coffeehouse and Pub in Del Ray, Virginia (part of Alexandria, Virginia), I performed three songs. I led off with Big Breasted Woman, after explaining how it's non-sexist if you listen to it. Dumb jokes made by another performer and the emcee suggested that, well, people like dumb jokes. Maybe they also suggested that people couldn't hear or weren't listening.
Then I went with She Isn't Quite Done With You Yet. Not much reaction to that. I finished with She Likes to Knit. The next performer said something about it; I don't remember exactly what, but apparently she was listening to some of it. As were the two friends I brought and the woman who sat down at the table with them. Otherwise during my performance the handful of people at the coffeehouse chatted or worked at their computers or read. People weren't there to listen, other than a few who were there to listen to particular performers. That's a challenging audience for performers. You need to grab the audience, give them some reason to pay attention, not give them the option of ignoring your energy and/or sincerity and/or humor and/or musical skills. And some nights you're going to fail no matter how much you try and how good you are at what you do.
And what you do is often not what the audience would prefer. They might prefer covers. They might prefer something more raucous. They might prefer something more finessed, something sweeter and prettier, and at the same time, lyrically, something more earnest. The acoustic music audience (folk audience, if you will) doesn't always require irony or nuance. Fairly obvious broad statements can suffice, like how life is difficult sometimes for everyone but if you stick to it you nevertheless can manage to squeeze some pleasure out of it.
Folk audiences also tend to like broad humor. For example, I heard a song lately called "Life Is Too Short To Fold Underwear." It's a well done song, for what it is, but what it is is, well, not exactly the sort of thing that some other people are trying to do.
But who am I to evaluate it? The blurb for the album on which the song appears says, "'Life is Too Short to Fold Underwear' strikes a chord with many live audiences." Why would it strike a chord? Because everyone can identify with it, because everyone wears underwear and washes it and puts it away folded or unfolded? Because underwear is a slightly naughty subject, at least when you're five to twelve? (Not that there's anything wrong with music aimed at, or most appreciated by, five to twelve year olds.)
Thinking about it, I think "Life Is Too Short to Fold Underwear" probably would have gotten a better response at St. Elmo's Coffeehouse than my numbers. Maybe because it's more perky, more upbeat, more happy all the time. I, on the other hand, generally am not perky, not upbeat, and much of the time not happy. I often, to quote poet John Berryman, am
heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry [a fictional character, Berryman's alter ego} bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as achilles,
Who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.
Berryman ended his difficult, brilliant life by jumping off a bridge in Minneapolis onto the frozen Missippi River. I drove around Minneapolis recently, including to the U of Minn where Berryman taught. I went back and forth over a number of bridges, maybe including the bridge from which Berryman jumped. The Mississippi was frozen. I thought, among other things, that Berryman didn't take an easy way to go out. Now, I'm thinking that Berryman wouldn't have appreciated, "Life is Too Short To Fold Underwear." He wouldn't have appreciated it at all.
Then I went with She Isn't Quite Done With You Yet. Not much reaction to that. I finished with She Likes to Knit. The next performer said something about it; I don't remember exactly what, but apparently she was listening to some of it. As were the two friends I brought and the woman who sat down at the table with them. Otherwise during my performance the handful of people at the coffeehouse chatted or worked at their computers or read. People weren't there to listen, other than a few who were there to listen to particular performers. That's a challenging audience for performers. You need to grab the audience, give them some reason to pay attention, not give them the option of ignoring your energy and/or sincerity and/or humor and/or musical skills. And some nights you're going to fail no matter how much you try and how good you are at what you do.
And what you do is often not what the audience would prefer. They might prefer covers. They might prefer something more raucous. They might prefer something more finessed, something sweeter and prettier, and at the same time, lyrically, something more earnest. The acoustic music audience (folk audience, if you will) doesn't always require irony or nuance. Fairly obvious broad statements can suffice, like how life is difficult sometimes for everyone but if you stick to it you nevertheless can manage to squeeze some pleasure out of it.
Folk audiences also tend to like broad humor. For example, I heard a song lately called "Life Is Too Short To Fold Underwear." It's a well done song, for what it is, but what it is is, well, not exactly the sort of thing that some other people are trying to do.
But who am I to evaluate it? The blurb for the album on which the song appears says, "'Life is Too Short to Fold Underwear' strikes a chord with many live audiences." Why would it strike a chord? Because everyone can identify with it, because everyone wears underwear and washes it and puts it away folded or unfolded? Because underwear is a slightly naughty subject, at least when you're five to twelve? (Not that there's anything wrong with music aimed at, or most appreciated by, five to twelve year olds.)
Thinking about it, I think "Life Is Too Short to Fold Underwear" probably would have gotten a better response at St. Elmo's Coffeehouse than my numbers. Maybe because it's more perky, more upbeat, more happy all the time. I, on the other hand, generally am not perky, not upbeat, and much of the time not happy. I often, to quote poet John Berryman, am
heavy bored.
Peoples bore me,
literature bores me, especially great literature,
Henry [a fictional character, Berryman's alter ego} bores me, with his plights & gripes
as bad as achilles,
Who loves people and valiant art, which bores me.
Berryman ended his difficult, brilliant life by jumping off a bridge in Minneapolis onto the frozen Missippi River. I drove around Minneapolis recently, including to the U of Minn where Berryman taught. I went back and forth over a number of bridges, maybe including the bridge from which Berryman jumped. The Mississippi was frozen. I thought, among other things, that Berryman didn't take an easy way to go out. Now, I'm thinking that Berryman wouldn't have appreciated, "Life is Too Short To Fold Underwear." He wouldn't have appreciated it at all.
