Inhabiting the song

My musical upheaval is well underway.

While it may take a little while to get my voice back in shape, I've already taken that first plunge. I sang 3 tunes in public last week at my old friend Jeff's club, The Little Red Bistro. (Not to be confused with The Little Red Studio, the performance space in the back - where "beauty, art and the erotic" combine. This month's show seems to have a lot of bondage imagery. I am not quite ready for that.)

Last Wednesday night, Jeff introduced me to the trio playing on stage. A young woman stand-up bass player, gotta love that! A drummer who looked like nothing would ever raise his hackles and a keyboard player who had the mathematical nerdiness of all the good piano players I've ever known. Luckily for me, I located all of my old charts that afternoon and had begun to familiarize myself with the old lyrics, etc.

Man, was I ever nervous. Cold and clammy hands and feet. A diaphragm that wouldn't do it's job. Trying to catch my breath and not have my throat close up. And that was all before I even got onstage.

When they called me up, I decided to sing 2 tunes that I had nearly worn out, years ago. Gershwin's "Summertime" and my old stand-by, "Since I Fell for You". I was so nervous that I did not want to forget the lyrics.

What struck me immediately, was the old "sense memory" kicking in. Almost as soon as I got up there and put the SM-58 in my hand, I felt acute pain on one of the toes on my right foot. I chuckled to myself. Back when I was singing, full time, I had horrible problems with my feet, due to hours spent dancing in high heels. Yet, here I was, wearing pants and black flats and suddenly, a CORN pops up, out of nowhere!

As the band started the 4-bar intro to Summertime, I was filled, suddenly, with a sense of panic. What if I can't hear my cue? But no, it came and I jumped in. I had forgotten how hard it was to hear myself sing, especially when there were no monitors. I moved out onto the dance floor, into the dark, so I could make sure I was singing on key.

Almost immediately, I could feel myself wanting to pull out the old tricks and to sing from memory. Do what used to work. But, "no!", I told myself. Live the lyrics and stay in the moment. Not the easiest task when I'd never even met the musicians before. I tried to see pictures in my head and speak the truth, something I'd never, ever done when I was on the road. Back then, it was all about not being out of tune (training from mother: "Anne Louise, you're FLAT!") But now, I know that for a real singer, it has to be all about the lyrics. Communicating the message. Also, feeling the vibe from the band. God I've missed that!

I learned something valuable that night. There are iPhone Apps that act like fake books. They also instantly transpose! So, I didn't need my charts after all. The keyboard player did my next tune, "Since I Fell for You" by playing it off of his phone. Pretty snazzy.

Wow. I had almost no breath control during that piece. The terror had set in! But, again, I tried to totally inhabit the piece. Walked further out into the darkness, to hear myself. I must get some of those in-ear monitors that I've seen singers use. They are wireless and portable. That'll help a lot, I can tell. Again, I tried to stop myself from singing from memory, instead of in the moment. I was partly successful.

After the applause (hooray! applause!), a 70-year old man in a white cap yelled out "Angel Eyes!!" A little stunned, I said "I KNOW that tune"! And, went to get my chart. Piano iPhone man already had it - but, I had to lower my old key from A to G (voice is a little rusty). I even did an intro "this one was made famous by Frank Sinatra" before attempting to jump in - I used to just use the last 4 bars as an intro and had forgotten that, when the band expected me to jump in, after 4 bars from the top.

I did great - until the bridge. Then, suddenly, I could NOT FIND MY NOTE! "Drink up, all you people - order anything you see. Have fun (dear god what note was "fun"???)you happy people. The drinks and the laughs are on me". Boy was I out of practice. And, I could not figure out a way to signal the band to play the very last refrain "excuse me while I disappear". So, I just let it slide and didn't even sing it. The white-capped man whistled and clapped loudly.

PHEW!!! It was over!!! I profusely thanked the musicians and took my cold, sweaty and clammy self off the stage and to the bar for a glass of wine to calm my nerves. Mr. White Cap came right over and shook my hand. He was very, very complimentary! He then informed me that I had not ended "Angel Eyes" correctly. Yeah, yeah. I know. But, then he told me he was a jazz drummer, mostly in the '50's and '60's and played with heavy hitters like Johnny Mathis, who he says used to be a phenomenal jazz vocalist, before he got all famous and stuff. He told me a little about playing some of the big Seattle clubs back then and making records. Had I not been so nervous, I would have really enjoyed this exchange. As it was, I felt very complimented, to have a professional like that appreciate my voice.

After the sweat dried and the dust cleared, I realized that in order for me to do this, to SING like I want to, I need to totally inhabit each song. Dig so deep into the lyrics that they become a part of me. When I told my old friend, Bo, this, he said "what do you want to sing about?". A very good question. My answer was "love, but not romantic love since I don't have many good experiences from which to draw. I also want to sing about truth and inspiration (whatever that means)". Bo then said something that made me blanch: Anne, you need to write your own tunes. YIKES! He, being a chamber music composer but also all-around brilliant musician said - get me some lyrics and I'll write the music!!!! Holy shit! Not only am I now singing, I'm going to be writing songs? Wow.

But, by writing my own tunes, maybe I'll be able to fully inhabit the lyrics, since they'll be MY lyrics. Where to begin?

I think I'll go back on Wednesday to the Little Red Bistro and try and sit in with the band again. Perhaps little by little, I'll sweat less and enjoy it more.