Three years ago in the summertime, I took my first tentative babysteps into the spotlight on a stage in a tiny hole in the wall called the Stone Bar in Hollywood's Thai town. I had just meant to be a fly on the wall, but a fellow musician, Jen Bloom, convinced me to go up and sing. What have you got to lose? After some prodding, I put my name on the list.
I had just finished a song and I thought it was good a one, so I wrote the lyrics on a napkin to make sure I remembered them. I crumpled and un-crumpled the napkin as I checked and re-checked the lyrics.
Finally, Joseph Eid, the master of ceremonies for the Open Mic at the Stone Bar, called my name. Looking back at the supportive faces of Jen, and three of my best friends, Cristina, Karoline, and Juliane, I took the long walk past barstools, tables, and guitar cases toward the blue glow of the spotlights.
Wearing flip-flips, cut-off jean shorts, and a pink and black flannel, I stood naked on the stage. Except, any nervousness I had felt on the walk up there had dissipated. I finally had an audience.
"I only have one song, "I said, and then I sang it. It was a song called, "What lies inside." It had come to me in the shower, which has a glass door on it, a motif you can hear in the song. I don't have a recording of that, but I'll get one soon.
Anyway, at the end, people clapped and whistled and I felt on top of the world. That was the beginning of something very cool. A gifted musician himself, Joseph has this incredible magnetism for talent and I've been blessed to have met and played with amazing people over the last few years, many thanks to Joseph.
Last night, I played some songs at Sabor y Cultura on Hollywood Boulevard as part of a Singer-Songwriter circle, also one of Joseph's brainchildren. In this little room, splashed with pink, purples, and oranges, and lights just a little too bright, six singer-songwriters came together to share our original music.
Joseph sang one tune inspired by the movie, "Melancholia," musing about what he might do to prepare for the end if a mysterious planet were hurtling towards the earth.
Mark Phillips, who was part of the original Stone Bar crew, whose sound and style registers somewhere between Johnny Cash and John Prine, sang couple traveling songs about trains that had the same effect as some really good pot.
Rob Larkin told us a musical story of the time when he and his friends went down to Mexico and barely made it out alive, as well as a song about seeing crazy people on Hollywood Boulevard, and sometimes, just sometimes, feeling right out there with them.
Brett Dallas Mondie from Hall River, North Carolina, had a vague resemblance to Dashboard Confessional and sang songs of undying love and of uprooting his life from the east coast and heading west.
Samantha Tart sang songs about love and loss like an angel.
And, then, it was my turn. I swallowed the lump in my throat, and went for it.
Mahalo :)
