Dan Cloutier and Kim Jennings are the co-founders of the “I Support Local Music in Massachusetts” Facebook community, the We Support Local Music Blog, and Birch Beer Records. In this video, they talk about all this as well as supporting the local music scene and the Worcester Music Awards…and they play a couple of their own songs as well. Jeff Royds goes Behind the Scenes with Kim and Dan for New England Garage Bands.
David Greene, Guest Blogger
As if being a performing musician isn’t hard enough – making sure you’re comfortable with your arrangements, lining up gigs, creating a stage persona and just enough banter to look like you’re not even trying too hard, you have to remember the part many performers hate the most: self promotion.
Does it ever feel like some musicians market themselves so effortlessly that everything you try just seems lame? I have some good news for you. It’s not quite as hard as you think. If you’re reading this blog post, you’re already online, right? One tool can make your life so much easier, build your circle of fans, and create a buzz that will create and continue to perpetuate its own momentum. And best of all, it’s free!!
No, I’m not talking about walking around the streets of your town shouting at the top of your lungs, “Come see me feature at the Open Mike tonight!” Not only is that ineffective, it could get you arrested. And kill your voice, too.
Social media – a fancy term for free sites like Facebook and Twitter, are a performer’s best friend. Facebook reaches 500 million active users. Are you one? You should be. Even if you’re “not that kind of person,” even if you “don’t think anyone’s paying attention,” the truth is Facebook is perfect for local music.
First, create a page for yourself. Include the best publicity shot you’ve got. Keep it updated with upcoming gigs, current music clips, and keep the buzz going. A few tips:
Do you tweet? Twitter is an excellent tool to build community through followers. Even better, it’s effective for driving traffic to your website (not your Facebook page – don’t automatically assume your Twitter followers have a Facebook presence). Remember, you have limited characters to communicate, so the rule of thumb for Twitter is Short And Sweet.
“I’m opening for Bruce and Bonnie tonight. The Burren in Somerville. Doors open at 8!” Add a link to your website appearance page (you have one, right?).
One last note – it’s not all about you. I know that sounds odd, but your friends appreciate your pulling for them, too. On Facebook or Twitter, be your community’s favorite PR assistant.
“I can’t wait to see Fred and Ethel at Great Brook Farms, 2:00 tomorrow afternoon. Love their music.”
“Harry Potter’s CD release show is next Thursday at Amazing Things. I’m going to be there. Are you?”
Consider registering yourself at sites like ReverbNation and Sonicbids. They can widen your audience and create new avenues to show off your music.
Finally, have fun! If you’re enjoying communicating with your friends and followers, it shines through. Your community can tell, and they’ll want to hear from you, how you’re doing, which local and internet radio stations they can catch you on, and where you’ll be next. It’s called social media for a reason. Be sociable!
Jon Waterman, Guest Blogger
‘Twas the month after Christmas, and all through the music community singers, songwriters, guitar players, pianists, and the occasional alpine horn player are slogging, sliding, sloshing and spinning through the snow and o’er the black ice to get to open mikes or whatever venues were willing to book them. A lot are staying home too. It’s cold and nasty out, and a good time to stay home to practice and work on various other assignments that have come our way.
Not so terribly long ago, Dan Cloutier asked me to write a blog about the achievements of the “Our Finest Gifts” project – the seasonal compilation that he and I, and about 30 or so other area musicians were involved with over the holidays. That represented no easy task, as I’m not a bloggist and the only prose I’ve written is college history papers. And I have a hard time writing about subjects I feel strongly about. That said, in the week prior to Dan asking me, a couple of potential blog ideas did pop into my head. The ideas were centered on the Celtics and the Patriots, which might seem a bit odd for a forum about supporting independent music. So I’ll take a detour to explain.
For those of us who enjoy even passively following the Celtics, their success over the past three years has been inspiring. They’ve developed some great young players, but you might recall the turning point for the franchise was when they signed Ray Allen and Kevin Garnett to join Paul Pierce. The three were highly accomplished players- and were all either in the latter stages of their careers or rapidly approaching that point. Since then, the Celtics have benefited from contributions by Rasheed Wallace and Shaquille O’Neal, also in the latter stages of their careers. In professional sports, the age of an athlete is ultimately less important than their ability and their continued productivity. In the music profession (and we’re talking about pretty much anything beyond the open mike circuit), discrimination on the basis of age is not only accepted, it is trumpeted proudly, this in spite of the fact that in most every other profession such discrimination was deemed inappropriate and distasteful, if not outright illegal long ago. Of course the supposedly progressive music business also discriminates on the basis of looks, ethnicity, religion, race, class and other factors, but they don’t tend to be so open about those prejudices. It would seem that professional sports, usually more associated with mainstream conservatism is actually more progressive then the music business. We don’t have to follow or like basketball, but it might not be a bad idea for us to embrace the concept that the exclusion of people on the basis of age or other superficial factors isn’t making music any better. As long as we support those institutions that practice discrimination of any sort we’re helping perpetuate that behavior.
I suppose what got my mind on the subject of sports in the first place was that contemporaneous to the frigid weather and post-holiday season lull in musical activity was a good amount of media hype about the Patriots who were thought to be Super Bowl contenders. I couldn’t help but notice that many of my musical friends and colleagues seemed to feel a compulsive need to assert strongly and publicly that they had no use for football, and didn’t give a rat’s behind about the game or who was playing. I’ve noticed this in past years too. I’ve even seen musicians schedule open mikes during the Super Bowl, believing that no one passionate about music or the arts could possibly have any interest in the sport. I suspect one reason some musicians feel so strongly about not feeling strongly about football is their memory of the high school social order. The essence of the high school social order is that some people (often football players and cheerleaders) are deemed to be in the “in” group, while others are determined to be not in the “in” group, and are thus excluded. No one likes to be excluded, and so for those of us who were, the painful memories of that time, and the resentment of football players and cheerleaders tends to be pretty deeply entrenched. Thankfully, high school is only 4 years long and there is an expectation that in the adult world, a more fair social order, based on effort and equal opportunity will prevail. Unfortunately, the adult social order turns out to be not all that different from the one we knew and resented in high school. The favoritism and cronyism in adult life might be more blatant in the music world then in any other – except for maybe politics. And it’s no honor being one step better then a politician. Sadly, this behavior and mentality, and the practice of excluding individuals not part of a certain clique or “in” group is as prevalent in the local music community as it is in the big leagues. The “hall monitors” of self-designated community hubs such as certain prominent local “clubs,” radio stations, and other venues routinely grant preferential treatment and opportunities to their buddies, and exclude many other hard working performers for no reason other then that they are not deemed to be part of the “in” group. Sometimes the exclusion is based on age or some of the more insidious forms of discrimination mentioned above. We don’t have to follow or like football, but it might not be a bad idea for us to understand why some of us are so put off by it, so that we don’t participate in or support the same behavior that once offended us. As long as we support those institutions, local and beyond, that practice favoritism and cronyism, we’re enabling it to continue.
A music community doesn’t have to be founded on exclusion or discrimination. Those of us who were part of the “Our Finest Gifts” project followed a policy of inclusion from the get go. Anyone who wanted to participate and submitted a recording that met the criteria was included. No one with a qualifying recording was denied an opportunity. We felt that the best arbiters of what is good music are the individuals that make up the music buying and music listening public. It’s not just idealism. It makes good business sense and is the truest way to represent and promote our community. Most importantly, we made a real difference in some people’s lives. We raised well over $1500 to help SmallCanBeBig.org assist families threatened by homelessness, and that amount is still growing. Think of how much more we could have raised if we had the promotional machines of the local big fish behind us. Maybe they’ll see the error of their ways and start operating on behalf of the music community as a whole rather than solely in their own interests. Nonetheless, we used our passion and the skills we’ve all worked so hard for to help others and that is something we should expect from all walks of life. The value a profession has in society is not measured by how lucrative it is, but rather by the enrichment of life it provides. And when those of us who sing, play instruments, write songs and perform practice our craft as part of an inclusive community, the potential to enrich lives increases exponentially.
Personally, it was an honor for me to be involved with “Our Finest Gifts,” and I feel a tremendous amount of gratitude towards everyone who was part of it.
We all have something to be very proud of.
Ashley Jordan, Guest Blogger
As an aspiring musician I am always looking for the next great gig to play my music and meet some amazing people. What makes it a great gig to me? Well, I thought I knew the answer to that question until a recent experience caught me totally off guard.
My grandfather was a guitarist and singer…and is probably the primary genetic link to my personal desire to be a musician. Although he passed away about 15 years ago when I was only three, my grandpa and I had an amazing connection. He would play his guitar and sing country, folk and original music to me while I (reportedly) hummed along with a blanket tucked under my chin and a thumb firmly planted in my mouth. My grandmother was also one of his biggest fans, and my grandpa loved to sit around at home and play his music just for her.
After my grandpa’s death, my grandmother’s health quickly declined and she is now living in a nursing home. My family visits her often but I sometimes dread going there because it always leaves me feeling so sad. On our family’s most recent trek to the nursing home, I decided to bring my guitar to play some songs for my grandmother. Since my grandpa always used to play for her, I thought the music might lift her spirits. So with my guitar and (green) bench in tow, we headed to the nursing home. When we reached the hallway where my grandmother’s room was located, I looked up and made eye contact with one of the elderly male residents of the home, a tall, handsome gentleman that I had seen several times before on previous visits. He has never said a word to any of us, but he always gave us a polite nod of acknowledgment and then would push himself in his wheelchair off to the side of the hall to let us pass by. On this day of our family visit, the man gave me his standard nod, but then noticed my guitar case that I was carrying and gave me a huge, unexpected smile. I was so caught off guard that I nearly walked into the wrong room.
Our visit with my grandmother was pretty quiet that day. She wasn’t responding to any of us talking with her, but I played my guitar and sang for her at her bedside and she had a few moments of recognition. I’d like to think that my grandmother heard the music I played and dreamt of the beautiful life that she had shared with my grandfather. As our visit ended and we were preparing for the return drive home, I started thinking once again about the elderly man who had smiled at me and my guitar in the hallway. So I grabbed my guitar and went down to the visitor’s lounge at the end of the hall. Sure enough, the elderly man was there and his face lit up again when he saw me arrive. I asked him and the group of people in the room if they would like me to play some music for them, and several women gave me an enthusiastic “yes.” The man nodded and moved his wheelchair front and center.
I played a few songs for the group, each time receiving a round of applause and requests for “more.” As a final song, I performed “It’s That Smile,” an original tune that I co-wrote with some songwriters out in Belgium. The song describes how thinking about someone’s smile can carry you through the day. I sang it directly to my new friend, and as he swayed gently, he grinned and never once took his eyes off of me. When I was finished, he sighed deeply and then took my hand and held it for a brief moment. Then he gave me that award winning smile of his one more time. I felt so joyous and rewarded – - there were no words spoken and none were necessary. This had turned out to be one of the best gigs I had ever landed!
So in thinking back over the past year, doing close to 75 performances, blogging for this site and finishing up my senior year of high school, I can truly say that I have learned SO much. I have learned about commitment and friendship from all the amazing musicians that I’ve met out there who are playing at gigs in the local music scene. I have learned from little kids whom I have worked with for my community service project that taught me about fearlessness and honesty in music. And I have learned from my grandmother and my elderly friend at the nursing home, that music can be quietly appreciated and that the best gigs and audiences can be found in the places you least expect it.
**I am signing off for a while from my “blogging gig” as I complete my school year and the recording of my next CD. But I promise that I will continue to be “out there” in the local scene and beyond, learning and growing as both a musician…and as a person. Thanks for listening!!!
Craig Sonnenfeld, Guest Blogger
It has been my privilege for the last few years to study guitar with Paul Rishell. Below is my brief description of Paul’s life and music career with Annie Raines after a recent conversation with Paul.
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Paul Rishell has been a legendary figure on the Boston/Cambridge music scene since the 1970’s. A master of the acoustic rural blues style guitar and a haunting vocalist, Paul has recorded, performed and taught in the area for several decades including a current stint at Berklee College of Music. With his musical partner, virtuoso blues harmonica player Annie Raines, Paul has released several CDs on the Tone-Cool label. The duo’s album ‘Movin’ to the Country’ won the 2000 W.C. Handy award for Acoustic Album of the Year. Their most recent CD ‘A Night in Woodstock’ (2008) is a recording which continues the duo’s fine interpretations of traditional country blues songs mixed with originals. It also features Lovin’ Spoonful founder John Sebastian. This live performance from the Joyous Lake club is also available on DVD.
Born in Brooklyn, New York in 1950, Paul also grew up in New Jersey, England, and Connecticut as his father’s professional assignments with Standard Oil changed. As a teenager, Paul started playing drums and then electric guitar and had several bands. A friend played two LPs of acoustic blues for Paul which forever changed his musical direction. The recordings were Son House’s 1941 Library of Congress Recordings and Koerner, Ray and Glover’s 1964 ‘Blues, Rags and Hollers’ album. The rhythms and depth of feeling in these recordings set Paul on the path of learning the guitar stylings of House and other pre-war blues masters such as Blind Blake, Blind Boy Fuller and Robert Johnson.
After high school, Paul moved to Cambridge, Massachusetts on the advice of other musicians who were familiar with the local blues and music scene. He played in bands, worked as a studio musician and met other artists who were in the area at the time, such as then Radcliffe student Bonnie Raitt.
In 1972 he met his long-time idol Son House at the Cambridge home and office of blues artist manager and photographer Dick Waterman. They played together for hours and this set Paul on a path to perform and educate audiences and students about the classic music and rich tradition of American country blues.
Paul’s musical partnership with Annie Raines began in the early 1990’s after Annie sat in with Paul during several band and solo concerts. Paul’s first wife Leslie was his manager at the time and loved the sound that the two musicians were able to create together.
Annie (born in 1969) is a native of Newton, Massachusetts and a self-taught blues-harp prodigy. After a year at Antioch College, Annie decided to follow her muse and establish herself as one of the premier players in the country. Listening to any of her recordings with Paul or seeing Annie’s amazing performances in person will convince anyone that she has accomplished her goal. She is also a fine vocalist and songwriter, and also plays mandolin. Annie first recorded with Paul on the Charley Patton classic ‘Some of These Days’ on the 1994 album ‘Swear to Tell the Truth’. Paul and Annie became a premier act in the Boston area and they have toured nationally and internationally playing in several blues festivals.
Sadly, Paul’s wife Leslie (they had one daughter, Vanessa) was diagnosed with breast cancer in the mid-‘90’s and passed away in 1996.
Annie and Paul became closer personally over the years and they married a few years ago. Both continue to teach in the area. Paul has released an instructional DVD for blues guitar for the TrueFire company and Annie has also created one for blues harmonica. Paul has been playing pedal steel guitar for the last several years and would like to do a recording of half blues, half country music in the future. He also has a goal of creating a film score.
When I listen to a Rishell-Raines recording, there is always a point at which I feel transported to another time and place. It’s usually a setting either in the rural south or on a city street corner listening to some ace blues musicians. I know that this is an idyllic picture that I create in my mind and that the lives of most of the old blues masters were extremely difficult as they faced poverty and racism in the years before World War II and after. However, the way these heroes of the blues expressed themselves, and the modern interpretations that Paul and Annie give to the old blues classics in their vocals and musicianship take me to a very special emotional place which I want to revisit again and again.
For more info, visit www.paulandannie.com.
By Kim Jennings
I have only been comfortable in my own skin as a songwriter for about three years. That isn’t a terribly long time in the grand scheme of things.
As a songwriter, though, I think about the process of songwriting a lot, mostly because in all the years before I self-identified as a songwriter, I did *ahem* try to write songs, but hated every gosh-darn-stinkin’ minute of it.
Why? PRESSURE.
As a twenty-something trying to figure myself out, everything I did meant everything in the world. I’m a very all-or-nothing person. Every time I put my pen on paper, it had to be “the best.” And I wasn’t just like that in songwriting. I was like that in my career, in school, in conversations with others…all of life was a huge competition, and each interaction a battle in which someone wins and someone loses. And in a lot of those other places, I often felt like I was doing well – picking my battles wisely, advancing in life. So I learned to pick the battles I knew I could win. Who wouldn’t?
Heaven help me if I felt like “The Loser.” With a capital L. Woe is me, life is so hard…why do I even bother with this songwriting stuff? Ugh.
I gave up writing for a few years. My husband would encourage me to write my own stuff instead of singing covers. I would kick and scream (sometimes literally), telling him, “but I hate writing. Hate it hate it HATE IT!!” Imagine: stomping feet, whiny voice, bordering on tears, inner turmoil, negative self talk…on, and on.
Thankfully – whether due to growing up a bit, becoming a mom, or getting the meaning of the artistic journey – as a thirty-something, I found a way to love writing. Part of it comes from a shift in my worldview. Art is not a battle anymore. There doesn’t have to be a winner. Sure, there are competitions, limited performance opportunities, awards…and some things come my way, and a lot don’t. That’s not what music is all about for me anymore.
I have something to say, and I’m going to say it. Whether or not you listen is up to you.
That shift in my mind has taken the pressure off – a lot – as if a physical burden was lifted off my shoulders. It’s one of the great ironies of the universe, isn’t it? The harder you try, the harder it becomes. And when you finally let go, that’s when it all opens up.
The other pressure that’s going away is that “every song has to be great/loved/appreciated/the best song I have ever written.” I admit this one takes more work to keep in mind. Still, I’m getting to a place where I know that the crappy stuff I write is there for a reason. Each miserably awful song I write is part of the journey leading the way to the next great song. And, maybe, just maybe, the more I write, the faster I will get to the great ones. Then I have to write a heck of a lot of crap to get to a kernel of gold, right? No pressure anymore.
I feel better now. How about you?
Ashley Jordan, Guest Blogger
Do you remember your first experience at an open mic? Was playing in front of a group of fellow musicians something that you eagerly anticipated…or something that you totally dreaded but somehow forced yourself to try? For me, being on stage is comfortable, and playing in front of others is one of the most rewarding things I’ve ever found. I look forward to playing out new songs, to getting a reaction from the audience. All in all, it’s an exhilarating experience for me. But someone close to me (who wants to remain anonymous) told me that although music is so important to her as a pianist and songwriter, performing in front of people is a nightmare…literally. She often has dreams about performing in which the piano legs fall off just as she begins to play, about forgetting how to put her fingers on the keyboard, and worst of all, about suddenly realizing at the moment she is about to begin playing that she is totally and completely naked on stage. For this person, when she plays alone in a room, she is a concert pianist and her fingering is flawless. Take the same piece of music and ask her to perform in front of a crowd, and she claims she will fall apart, hands shaking, body sweating, and mind going completely blank.
I had asked several musician friends in the past to come out to an open mic with me, but no one seemed especially interested. One friend from my high school, Jackie Lee, has been coming to my performances regularly (both at open mics and at other venues) and was so supportive of my music that she was given the title of “superfan”. She would always cheer loudly for me from the audience (whether the audience consisted of 3 people or 300 people) and she started helping out, by traveling with me and my parents/road-crew, helping to set up my equipment, and selling CDs on the sideline. She is really amazing. I found out that Jackie was learning to play the guitar and really wanted to get more involved in performing. When I casually mentioned her that she should play at an open mic sometime with me, she didn’t hesitate for a moment to respond. “No way!” she said.
I backed off for a while, but Jackie started to meet some of the wonderful and supportive hosts at open mics – namely Neal Braverman and Ellen Schmidt. They too started asking Jackie when she was going to get up on stage and play some music. Jackie would smile politely but never gave a definitive answer. Finally, after my mom told Jackie that our family would be there in the audience to cheer for her and support her, Jackie gave in. I rode in the car with Jackie on that Tuesday night in November when she was going to perform at the Savoury Lane open mic. Jackie seemed more excited to talk about the fact that John Gerard and I were sharing a split feature that night then about anything pertaining to her performance. She was clearly getting nervous, and when I asked her about it she didn’t have much to say. I was glad that she had her guitar in her hand when I picked her up, because it showed me that she was at least intending to play a song that night.
Well…Jackie did it! And when she was done, the room applauded and people gave her high fives as she made her way back to her seat. She had strummed out a song on her guitar, her face was intense and concentrating, and she never once looked out at the audience. But when she was done she looked up and gave a really nice smile and looked relieved and happy.
I asked her later to describe to me how she felt when she was first being introduced by Ellen Schmidt. Jackie said, “I was anxious a bit. I have never been the performing type, so it was nerve wracking when I heard my name spoken to twenty-plus people that I didn’t really know. Seeing the microphones and video camera, switchboard, guitarists, pianists, singers, etc. – all in one room – who I knew were more talented than I, was a bit scary as well.” When I asked Jackie to describe how she felt as she was actually performing her song, she said, “Honestly, I felt like I had to get it over with as soon as possible. I messed up right off the bat so that just downed me and I kept thinking about it throughout my playing. Not to mention, my guitar was out of tune. So it sounded off to me the whole song and I didn’t know whether or not to stop and tune it or just keep playing. For the most part I was fairly confident in what I was playing, just not the sound. That threw me off a bit and made me more negative towards my performance at first rather than positive.”
Jackie expressed that the best thing about performing at the open mic for the first time was “having the Jordan family right there behind me as my support. It felt good to have somebody encourage me and my music, rather than hate on it.” Jackie didn’t feel there were any real “negatives” about performing now that she’s thinking back on it: “It is a place to try out new things and know you are welcomed no matter what.” Jackie said that she would definitely do it again, and that “yes, absolutely” she would recommend doing an open mic to other young people. She ended by saying: “I am fine playing for my friends and it’s a great place to start, but open mics give you a whole new experience and create a bigger outlet to making your music bigger and more successful, if you wanted…”
So I guess that whether you have plans for a music career, or just want the opportunity to perform your music with other people who share your passion for song or spoken word, the open mic is an accepting and rewarding experience for those who are brave and willing. I think that on the night that Jackie performed, we heard original tunes and covers, folk, country, pop and classical music. There was yodeling, piano, harmonica and guitar. We heard stories behind the songs, great jokes and a powerful spoken word piece set to music. What more could you want from an evening out?
All I know for sure is that we need to get more teenagers involved in the whole open mic experience! Way to go, Jackie!!!!
Jake Ostreicher, Guest Blogger
Massachusetts hip-hop has been awesome, struggling, thriving, mimicking, and setting trends since I could first tune in. It’s a contradiction on many levels. In my own experience, it can be tough to get recognition unless you’re co-signed by bigger artists. Say maybe you did a song with Talib Kweli, a big name from New York. Your local sales boost. People are buying your album now. The same exact people are whining about how Boston gets no love and how everyone sweats NYC. Hmmmmm.
Behind this scene, a New York born, Boston educated journalist has managed to cut through all the bull and prominently display talented people to the masses. His writing is featured in endless music publications such as Spin, Elemental and The Source. He currently writes for The Boston Phoenix and is a regular contributor to local hip-hop blog, www.jumptheturnstyle.com. His name is Chris Faraone.
I first met Chris in 2005. I got off stage from one of my bigger shows at the Middle East and Faraone (as he’s known around the city), said he liked my stuff. He told me to call him when I have a release that needs a push. I’m kinda slow. My debut album didn’t release until 2008. I gave him a call as if 3 years didn’t go by, and he hooked it up. The man’s true to his word. He gets down for the workers with an unbiased, literary command. If your music is true-to-form, so will be his journalism. He’s the unseen caretaker of Boston hip-hop. He is Batman.
I recently had a chance to talk with Faraone. I gave him a cut and he answered my questions. Good deal.
How did you become Batman?
Well I think its really important for whatever you’re covering, to really cover the hell out of it, to really know your beat. As a hip-hop fan, you can tell, right? When you’re reading an article and clearly, the person doesn’t know everything they’re talking about. When it comes to hip-hop I really try to stay on top of stuff. For me, I don’t care if someone has sold 1 million units or no units. I try to write about the music because that’s what I’m listening too. I don’t really like the word “critic”. I just listen to as much as possible. At the paper, I have my space and my time….I write about what I like, you know?
Why hip-hop? What do you love about it?
That’s the music I’m most drawn to. In reality if you look at it, something like 90% of music outside of hip-hop is about romance, love, relationships. That’s pretty much what every song is about, but the diversity of hip-hop lyrics is kind of amazing.
What are you listening too right now?
“Crowne Royale” which is Buff-One and Rhettematic from the Beat Junkies and Vinnie Paz’s solo album. I listen to a lot of really tough, Slaine type of stuff. Really hardcore stuff. That’s my preference. A lot of stuff Slaine talks about would never ever be considered positive, but he’s talking about the same social injustice that Dead Prez is talking about. Paz too. They may have some streaks that I don’t agree with, but when it comes down to it, it’s about the working class struggle. And that’s what I represent. People always like to hear what they stand for in their music.
“Sox Mobster” is the book you’re working on. What’s that all about?
So I was trying to write a book about hip-hop where I’d go to 12 cities and learn what goes on in their underground scene. Hip-hop books don’t sell, so it was more of a passion project that I couldn’t afford to lose money on. I’ve always wanted to write sort of a journalistic take down of pro sports, but no one wants to read that. So what we decided to do was put me in (Fenway). I go to every Red Sox game I can get into. I haven’t got paid for it yet so I damn near went broke. 43 home games last year. I’m hopefully going to every home game next year. I’m writing about things sports writers don’t usually write about. There’s a whole chapter where I hung out with all the scalpers for weeks at a time. I have a whole chapter where I follow the kids who sell peanuts. It’s been great because I didn’t know any of this stuff. It’s been really fun. Hopefully the books gonna come out in 2012 for the 100th anniversary of Fenway Park. With any luck, we’ll sell a billion copies and I can just write about hip-hop for the rest of my life.
Use 3 words to describe your position in the culture.
Critically Joyful Observant.
Ashley Jordan, Guest Blogger
One thing that I’ve observed about the open mics that I’ve attended is that there aren’t many “young people” who are around my age out performing. In fact, I can count on one hand the number of times that I’ve performed alongside other teenagers. I remember the first time clearly: I was at TCAN in Natick and Eddie Kane and his band of lively musicians (all in their late teens and early twenties) performed an interesting song arrangement. I think the spontaneous comedy that occurred onstage before they began to perform and all their ad-lib comments were one of my favorite open mic memories. It was fun for all of us to meet other people our age on stage.
I started wondering why so few teenagers hit the open mic circuit. Is it because of travel (not being old enough to drive, or not having a car available) or because of the timing of open mics (they tend to be held on school nights and often extend until late in the night)? I know that when I’ve gone to “Battle of the Bands” events that feature local bands, there are SO many teenagers present, both fans and the performers themselves. So maybe a “Battle of the Bands” type of show is considered more “cool” than open mics because they cater to young people and loud music? Maybe open mics are assumed to be more suitable for folk or oldies music? Maybe younger people don’t know about open mics unless they have adults around who participate in them? I don’t know exactly. I began going to open mics because I wanted to start performing out in the local music scene. I had no expectations about what I would find or who would be there – I just showed up, waited for my turn, and performed. But as time went by, it was clear to me that not many of my peers were doing the same thing.
So I decided that I wanted to find another teenager to come with me one evening to try out an open mic…
The rest of the story from Ashley is coming soon…
Trisha Knudsen, Guest Blogger
My husband Phil and I have been married for nearly 28 years. All couples that have shared life for such a long time know that without a few essentials, this living together thing is HARD! Of course, you have to have some degree of compatibility to start. Love helps. So does friendship. A good sense of humor gets you over a variety of life’s bumps in the road. But finding something of mutual interest, with the added benefit of personal enrichment? Well, that’s a bonus! Icing on the wedding cake, you might say. For us, this something is a love of people, music and the spoken word.
We have been fortunate enough to share this love within a community of like-hearted folks. Running the Open Mic at The Center for Arts in Natick (TCAN) has been a five-year adventure in learning. Learning to build community, learning that there are immeasurable vehicles for expression, and learning that everyone should be allowed to possess and share their own unique voice. It’s all a process. We’re still learning. I trust we’ll never stop.
We have our mentors, our predecessors, our peers. This is a rich and ever-expanding community. We each do things a little differently, adding to the diversity and creating a well-rounded blend of listening and performing “flavors” – very tasty! But every open mic I know also has some important things in common. Respect for the performer is critical. So is a setting that allows artists to be heard, a decent sound system and dedicated, talented operators that know how to optimize each performer’s vocal and instrumental offerings. All that, along with fans and fellow musicians who understand that age-old proverb commonly known as The Golden Rule, makes for a nice night of sharing. You can find an open mic nearly every night of the week!
One of the most important roles that a host can fill is to set the tone of a venue and provide a level of comfort to those brave and happy souls who choose to lay themselves creatively bare before others. The hope of the performer is to be listened to, heard and appreciated for their contribution to the community. A friendly greeting at the door and an effort to remember names goes a long way to make guests feel welcome. So does expressing an appreciation for each performer’s offerings. Keeping things moving as the night passes is a learned skill, and hosts who can do this well make for a comfortable audience.
Most of the people who frequent the folk scene have a good idea of how it all works. It’s pretty simple. But there are still newbies out there who need a little tutorial. So here it is! Come in and make yourselves comfortable! Say hello to whomever is greeting you at the door, pay your coin and take a seat. Or, come in a little early and mingle around before the start. You’ll meet some very interesting people who are glad to talk with you. They may even have a hint or two about music – how to play, what to sing, who makes the best guitars, where to find finger picks and strings – a whole variety of useful information all for the price of an introduction. Good deal! One of the best in town, I guarantee.
Before the show starts, turn off your cell phone. If you want to have a conversation, find some place outside of the performance space. When it’s your turn to perform, others will extend the same courtesy. This is how a community is built. There is such potential for collaboration here.
Most open mics make space in the evening for a featured artist to give an extended taste of his or her talents. These musicians are compensated in some way for their offerings. Hosts may pass a hat through the audience. It’s a nice idea to have a little cash for this purpose. It’s also considered good manners to stay after the feature to hear the rest of the open mic performers. That way, everyone who plays has an audience to play to. If you aren’t able to stay this time, don’t fret. Just stick around the next time you come.
There are so many things to learn and appreciate from and about one another. Open Mics are one place to do so. For information on Open Mics in the area, go to www.sambayer.com. Come out and listen. Come out and play. Then come back again. The return is well worth your investment. Like icing on the cake.