Past Life: Clinically, Scientifically Naked

See the man with the stage fright, Just standing up there to give it all his might - The Band

Past Life:

I've never been scared to be in front of an audience with the band. But that doesn't mean I've never felt the chest-thumping, quick breath fear that can overpower any performance. I've just learned to live in it.


Once I had an assignment for a high school speech class...

I hated that class, not my teacher she was great as were the other kids, but I was just out of place. Having been lifted up two years I was 14 taking a summer class with 17-year-olds giving speeches about my life, politics, and drama readings. As you can imagine it was awkward. I wasn't living their life, I didn't know their music, their movies, their parties... to all my classmates I was still a kid. It's amazing the social gap between high school-ers.

...  Anyway, every time I stood in front of the class seeing, what then looked like men and women, adult faces wearing too much make-up and the beginnings of very bad mustaches, I wanted to disappear. To run out the door. To hide underneath my hoodie and stay in the back of the class reading. But you can't do that in high school, because for some reason, the more you hide the more teachers try to get you out of your shell. So instead I had to stand at the podium with the feeling of my lunch crawling higher and higher up my throat, with my hands shaking holding my note-cards, and the words failing to come. Receiving a flood of rolled eyes, smirks, and sarcasm. But this assignment was different.

We had to record ourselves as a Radio DJ, making a commercial segment between songs. So I grabbed a portable tape recorder, sat in my favorite spot: my bedroom had a window on the opposite side of my bed, I could sit look at the sky and no one could see me from the hallway, and I drained myself out in to the microphone. Recording songs off the radio, writing my skit, complete with a commercial break for Fizz Bang Cola. 

I got wild, gave my best Wolfman Jack impression:
Heeeeellllloooooooo, San Antooonne! So happy to be in the land of a thousand dances, a thousand chances, and the thousand lovers making gooood romances... hawr hawr...

There was no one watching. No faces to look at. Just me, the recorder, and my imagination. I wasn't thinking about what everyone else would think when I had to play the tape on Monday. I wasn't thinking about the grade. I wasn't really thinking about the assignment, cause I kinda went overboard making twice as long as needed. I was only thinking about the performance. I don't know why this project, why this time I decided to really try, but it felt different. It felt real. It felt comfortable.


There is a moment when a song finishes, no matter how quick the response is, there is a moment while waiting for the audience reaction that can be nerve racking. While the note is ringing out, and the heart beat raises a little. Waiting to see if you get applause or the silent death stare - I don't think people boo anymore. It's not that the audience controls me, I've played plenty of shows when the crowd and I just don't connect, and it doesn't mean we were good or bad, we just either connect or not. Still, in a performance something is given away and it feels so good when people receive it openly. I think that's where the tension comes from. Wanting to be understood. And the moment of uncertainty, that place can be scarier than first stepping out on the stage in the first place.

I was in that moment when my tape stopped. And I, the over-achieving 14-year-old watching the faces of the apathetic summer school 17-ishes and my teacher, waited for the verdict. 

Then the teacher laughed, the students laughed, I laughed, some of the kids paying attention even applauded, of course there were others who didn't really care. I was happy with that little bit of respect. But I gained something more than just my highest grade of the class.

I'd put myself out there and earned the response I wanted. They laughed at the jokes, they heard the words, it sounded like a radio program - poorly recorded - but legitimately like a radio program. It was a creative expression fully realized... Ah what a moment... And it was armor. And it was strong.

Making something without purpose and conviction will leave you feeling naked. You are exposed to every flaw of your humanity. Clinically, scientifically naked.

I go on stage believing in every song, in every note. That gives me strength to go into uncertainty.  To stand in front of people and sing myself. To write these words and give them to you. I have faith in my creation. In my ideas. I don't get my confidence from some in-born ability -  maybe others have that but I do not. I have honesty, and hard work. I have conviction. Living in the fear, is to free yourself from it.

-rene

Mother. At Mass

All of the wraps and knots a riddle.

This is the moment. She kept her fingers twisting threads

turning gold, her silken mind. Each thought golden

and each look... as the wick burned down.

What was it to know like she knew?

What was it like to turn a key?

All the answers I could never give.

The skill to unravel.

Understanding when we unravel, we go.

Little Girl, A Full Heart

Little girl, your tongue turned black when you spat at the world.
Little girl, you drifted away. Long after the music started to stray away...


There is a slight difference between a song that tells a story and a song that is a story. A musical. The kind in movies and Broadway. Maybe it's the difference between being the character and the narrator. Or perhaps its having several characters in one segment? Where the music is enhancing not only the overall story but also personalities of the characters. Whatever it is. There is a difference.



Little Girl, for all purposes, is a song from a musical that never existed. An attempt to portray characters as themselves. Though not completely. I didn't want it to be too over the top. Less actual Broadway, more the impression of. I don't think it would do to have an actual musical number. There is a fine line. Some great songs have come out of musicals, but few stand on their own as something I would dig on a record. Most need the context of the full story.

You think it's better lonely, isn't that what you told me?
You want to make your money. You better think of me only


The main key keeping this song falling in to full chorus-line being I narrate about the Little Girl character, rather than her singing her own part. Without the visuals the story is more ambiguous. So we had to set mood with music. That is the main reason for the dramatic shifts in style that move through the song.

There is the main section about the girl. Running away from her problems. And a violent antagonist who's holding her back.  Who is the character of the bridge played by Abe. - Who did a great job getting in a villainous character voice. - This is set by the walking bass line, the rolling piano rhythm, and the high-hat hit. Then for the bridge, the music gets a lot more aggressive. Everyone playing on the same pulsing attacking beat. This is the villain theme.

Then there is a dance interlude. Imagined to be her deciding on what to do with her life. I pictured a dancer moving back and forth across the stage. In throws of confusion. Her choice to stay captive to her past. Or venture to the future. It felt like a classic musical storyline.

The bossa-nova break is actually tricky to get. The time switch. The feel change. It all depends on how the drummer can handle it. I loved the octave piano solo Abe does. My bass work was really fun. Scaling up and down. Writing a McCartney-esque  melody. Check out a live version from Hear Ya:

Finally it ends in the solo. Which is the culmination of the parts. The moment she decides. I felt it was important to leave it up in the air. I like the idea of not-knowing what the future is.

Little girl, you're a flat back woman with no where to turn
Little girl, take a chance make a run, you better hide from the gun

I always wanted to give writing this kinda piece a shot. It was an itch I had to scratch. One I'm proud of. A real fine moment on the record too. I think the idea might sound too lame for some. But songwriting has to be fearless. Regardless of what others might say or think, ideas should be explored. With a full heart. Unashamed. It would be impossible to work with fear of rejection. Not that it doesn't cross my mind, I just don't give in. Be bold. Be daring. Most important, Try something new.

her face, like I had never seen before

beamed into the dark. a song, cutting

the corners of our hearts. with a collective gasp

of an audience unaware of her art. of stripping us,

cleaving off and discarding our worst parts,

leaving their seats lighter than at the start.

-rene


image source: http://www.cinemaretro.com/uploads/cyd.jpg