I Love Music | johnozed

Alright already! It’s the day of the Hoboken Fair Rent Association benefit at Maxwell’s and I am taking part in it. I will be the first person on stage which is only right since no one knows who I am really, or at least didn’t know I could play guitar. I helped one of the organizers get it together and mentioned that if he needed someone to fill holes in the schedule I would be willing to jump in. I did not expect to receive any billing at all, and I most certainly did not expect to be called ‘Johnnie’. So it goes.

I’m anxious of course. Just a fear of failing and by failing I mean playing the wrong chords. Bill will be there recording it so I will have my very own Zapruder film happening. I’ve been practicing and I am taking a precaution of scotch taping some chords to my guitar for when I get that deer in the headlights thing going on. I will be playing rock and roll hits on the acoustic guitar and would have been fine with that if it weren’t for someone asking me why I wasn’t playing any activist songs. Threw me for a loop it did.

So in the back of my mind I can’t help but think of activist songs to play but of course I am drawing a blank and let’s face it, I’m not the best guitar player out there. As I’ve explained to Bill who is an actual musician, I am not a musician- merely someone who plays guitar. I suppose some songs I am considering playing can have an activist slant to them. At least that is what I told ol’ Melvin. Am I comfortable playing these songs? Can I actually play these songs? It seemed easier when busking and being ignored by passerby.

Like I wrote I will be playing rock and roll tunes and when you think rock and roll tunes you might think of some guy jumping about on stage like Pete Townsend or any other animated performer. Me? I have the self reputation of merely standing there and strumming, or as I like to compare it, a tree with an itch. I’ve been texting with Lois just now and she has some good ideas that I might try out. The main thing is that I just have to stay out of my own way and hopefully out of my own head.

I am anxious about something that wouldn’t take more than 10 minutes and will more than likely be over with before I realize it. Why do I forget the punk ideal of getting up on stage and doing something? I know I have supported hundreds of bands when they got on stage, and I know I will have some support. Perhaps I am making too much out of this. According to Lois, I just have to own my moment and enjoy it while I can. I just have to make sure the fingers go in the right position and not try to hit those high notes.

And then there is some sort of backstage drama and I’m not even backstage. For your information there is no backstage at Maxwell’s. It’s a basement and to get to the stage you walk through the crowd. Anyway, it turns out I am not going on first. Apparently there is an act on the bill that is not for rent control and there is a desire to get them on and off the stage as soon as possible. So now I may be going on second.

I went on first and it went well. I didn’t suck is what I was told, high praise indeed! Bill was there, his recordings are posted below. Friends were there in the flesh and Facebook friends typed their well wishes, including Pedro telling me I’ve got ill talent which makes me smile. The videos are uploading now on YouTube so they should be done by tomorrow I guess. Four songs, Instant Karma, Heroes, Picture in a Frame and Heart of Glass. I was nervous but got through it safe and sound, no rotten vegetables thrown, no cat calls, so it’s all good.

This morning I had a dream of being somewhere down the Jersey shore, staying with some people I don’t know. Friends of friends. I took a bus down there to a strip mall. Annemarie was around somewhere and while waiting for Annemarie, I decided to take her jeep for a ride, then I remembered that I don’t like driving.

Then trying to get back to where I was staying I had to go in quite a roundabout route.

I started walking to the place where I was staying which turned out to be on a very steep hill by the strip mall. I had to be careful since the hill was steep enough to be fatal if I fell, though it looked like a hill that you could roll over end over end and have a good time doing so.

Then it was trying to figure out how to cross Route 17 under the Route 80 overpass while trying to get to Essex Street. Also in the dream, Dave Grohl had made an excellent sketch of a princess.

That is what I woke up to. I know, other people’s dreams are so boring and here I am telling you about mine. It was all so very Nick Colas if you ask me. It was a good night’s sleep once again and that doesn’t happen often. Not just to me but to other people, interrupted sleep sucks.

I got out of bed and made the coffee, poured the cereal and was about to step into the shower when Bill came home in dire need to use the loo, so I just sat back and had some coffee and surfed the net. I was happy he came home safe and sound and decided to do the morning routine in reverse. Coffee and cereal, then the shower. It was a thrill really. I felt like someone else, though of course I wasn’t. I was certainly no longer hungry at all as I got myself cleaner anyhow.

I did plan on going to the bibliothèque to do some volunteering but when I got there they were fully staffed and in no real need for a volunteer, plus one of the nicer people on staff seemed quite bitchy and I decided to avoid them. I asked about the Open Mic thing in the park across the street and they referred me upstairs to the two blokes who were setting the whole thing up. They seemed quite happy to have my interest and so after talking with them I headed home and got my act together so to speak.

Bill was trying to sleep but kept getting interrupted by his phone so he wasn’t having a good time of it. My playing guitar two rooms away seemed to calm his nerves and yelled his approval with each song I practiced. I was anxious of course but determined to do something. I was thinking of it being a practice for Maxwell’s on October 25. I was asked if it would be OK if I was the first onstage and I told them that I thought I was going to be first since I was the least known out of all the performers.

I also backed out of DJ’ing for that night since it would only be a song here and there between acts, and the sound booth can get crowded and I did not want to get in the sound man’s way. And the sound man usually has the songs he wants to hear, so let him. That means, with any luck, it would just be me and Bill there since it is so early. I’ll be on stage and Bill will be recording me butcher various songs. The things starts at 7:30 and I expect we’ll be back home by 8:30.

And I have no problem with that.

So I practiced before the Open Mic and decidedly did not over practice. I walked over at the end of a Flamenco act that was very good and signed the sheet. Judging by the scrawl I should have realized that there were a few children performing. First up was Rowan who sang an acapella song called Fireworks and everyone loved him.

Then a friend of one of the organizers sang two songs, talented yet maudlin. Then more kids came up and sang who knows what. I was more focused on my slot. A woman named Shana came up to buy a smoke form me and I rolled her one. She was interested in singing so I told her to sign up. She did, and then walked away. Julio, Stine and Alexander passed by on their way to meeting friends at the Path train so they didn’t stay, hence the lack of photographs.

My name was called and as I was walking up the gazebo steps I was told I could only do one song due to time constraints. Of course if I did the songs I envisioned I would have filled ten minutes probably. But since it was restricted I did the tried and true Fabs, All My Loving. Two minutes and 14 seconds I was done. I plugged the Thursday night show at Maxwells and headed off back home.

Shana’s name was called but she was nowhere around. So Sasha, the bloke who was running the show did his number, all pedal effects which sounded like Tangerine Dream or Robert Fripp. I mentioned that to Sasha and he had no idea what I was talking about which could mean he thought he was coming up with something original. And it was, just reminiscent.