Chicago Open Mic Tour

Last Week I took a whirlwind tour of the Open Mics in the Chicago Area.

Monday was Uncommon Ground Coffee House. Uncommon Ground was an extremely small (and crowded) room. This was a highly competitive open mic--a competition with contestants competing for glory, recording promises, and prizes such as Shure Microphones. The information we had stated that if I did not sign up early enough I would be too late to play as the sheet fills up early. I got there a couple of hours after the sign-up so didn't bother bringing my guitar with; it turned out that there was time left at the end. I had left my finger picks in the van; had I not, I would have gone up and played a couple of songs. Most of the players were pretentious, self-indulgent, and self serving (but I guess an amount of this in indicated in such a undertaking). Some of the contestants tried so intensely that they were a bit humorous (like the guy who went "Jimi Hendrix" with his guitar on the mic stand...). I had to keep from laughing but inside I was, and thinking "Oh come on now! Give me a freakin' break would ya?". Interesting note that this guy won the nights contest. People eat this shit up. There were a few groups there that were much less showboat and more song oriented (the Hendrix guy's song was extremely complex and had absolutely no flow). The contest was completely subjective to the sounds man's likes and dislikes. He picked out the final six, and then had the audience clap loudest for the best. The Hendrix guy had a guy in the audience bang his glass loudly on the table during his applause section and therefore synching the contests. This night I discovered where my ranking was among the striving wannabees. I walked out of the place thinking "what a bunch of bullshit!"

Tuesday was the Abbey pub. Once again the info indicated that early sign-up was mandatory, unless I wanted to be playing at midnight. This time I got there an hour early and was the first to sign up. I selected the first slot--perhaps a bit daring for who I used to be, but I had no apprehension this night. I got up and played and it was wonderful. I followed the hosts set. He was good in a "Hippie, Carbondale" kind of way (he played these really old songs done by obscure hobo type people--at least in my world...). The sound was fantastic. I was playing through a tube PA and the sound was crisp, wonderfully warm, and nice and loud. I noticed that people got up from the bar and stood behind the tables (in front of the stage). This was a good sign--a very good sign--and excellent sign. Some were staring at me. I did "Down Drinking at the Bar", "Harvey", and "Half Asleep at the Wheel". Typically the allow two songs sometimes three. Since the sign-up sheet was lean (now only six players) the host asked me to do another. I did "Walking my Baby Back Home" and some of the people in the audience were making percussion sounds vocally (congas--and blocks and such!) That was kind of weird. I tried to work on my technique of scanning the audience and trying to draw energy from them, but I felt that my eyes were mostly closed, although I did manage to peek out a few times and scan everyone. When the oral percussion accompaniment started I felt weird looking at people. (I had this underlying feeling that if I saw a guy singing doohm pah doohm pah pah virtual conga I would start cracking up--I can be like that and the people there were being supportive and trying to be a part if the sound so laughter would have been hurtful...). Everyone there was extremely nice and supportive. The players were way more down to earth. (With the possible exception of the guy who did the Indian song--he had a feather in his fedora was doing Native American war whoops--once again I had a difficult time keeping from cracking up--I never knew that acoustic music could be so funny...). Sometimes people walked onto the stage area and contributed to each other's songs. There was a time when a guitar guy was playing and a guy with a fiddle walked up and joined in, and even a really old guy got up with a harmonica and it was magic! A synergistic coming together that was unfolding before everyone. The song was beautiful. I was so happy to be there. I walked out of the place shaking lots of people's hands and feeling that I had made a few new friends. My plan was to do some bar songs in a bar--and make eye contact with the people. (Oh well one out of two is not so bad...). Later swung by Fantasy Club, and Decklans but each had canceled their open mics due to the snow storm.

Thursday I went to play in the 'burbs; a club called "602 North Avenue". True form to the suburbs it was a very large room, with a raised stage that had a full drum set on a raised platform, three or four Marshall stacks, many foot monitors, and lots 'n lots, 'n lots of fresnel lights (computer driven spots, "rotating thingies" and such). The mixing board was absolutely enormous--wonderful thing--the hub of all rock music. Once again I was nearly the first and took the first spot. The place was freezing. I kept my jacket on and was still cold--and I'm almost never cold. I was glad for the warmth of all the spotlights on the stage. I instantly warmed up. Suddenly I found myself in a strange environment. The lights were so bright that I couldn't really see the people to scan them for energy. I could see silhouettes, but that was all. I was also raised up and looking down, and I had all this huge-arse equipment around me. ( I kind of hoped that he would have me plug into a Marshall Stack and feed a foot mic, but I plugged into a DI box). The sound was massive, but it seemed very far away. I had no idea how loud I was--I guess this is the first time that I had ever played with a professional sound man. Thinking back I should have just concentrated on playing my music and let him tailor the sound but it was a new experience for me (even when I played with Woodlind we always did our own sound). I guess inside I wanted to have control of the dynamics and felt that they were out of my control. In spite of all that I did OK, but it wasn't the feel good of the Abbey. People sat far away and applauded; I didn't feel a sense of connection with them--I wasn't playing to them. I was merely pouring out sound into a dark smoky room. To me my music sounded contrived and mechanical. I played harder than I should have trying to control the dynamics and as a result my precision suffered some--probably only noticeably by me though. I was glad to be down off of that petrie dish! I played the blues-Half asleep at the wheel, Down drinking at the bar. I also did "Behind Blue Eyes". I had my eyes closed most of the time. My plan was to experience playing a big room full of indifferent people. The experiment was a success, but it was unfullfilling to say the least.

Friday I played at the Fat Bean. The Fat Bean is a traditional coffee house mostly inhabited by teenagers. I remember places like this from when I was a kid. The go in and out and in and out and in and out. The kids stand on the sidewalk in front of the place, and then come back in for a while. There were many adults as well--I would estimate that there was at least fifty to sixty people in the room at any given second. The Fat Bean had couches in front of the stage area, and the people there were parked for the night. I got there past sign-up (6:30) arriving sometime after seven-thirty. I did get on the list--but I didn't get a chance to play until after 10:30. The first thing that I noticed was that a majority of the "kids" that performed there either could not carry a tune, or perhaps had written material that didn't have a musical form. I know that it sounds like I'm being critical, but I heard at least seven songs that truly had NO melody. Just words punctuated by occasional yelling. Weird. There was a "headliner" for the open mic show. I little guy who was fairly talented (but he wouldn't have held a candle to the folks at Uncommon Ground). He played mostly to himself. I've been reading a lot and one of the things that I learned was that it isn't about me and all the wonderful things that I can do. It's truly about the audience and what I can do for them. I finally got on and I was much more in my element than at Uncommon Ground, or 602. I could see the people's faces and the room was intimate although the crowd had slimmed down considerably since when I first arrived. The intensity was still high. I scanned the audience for energy. I wanted to pull 'em all into my song and keep them captive in the music. I had done this with at least a few people out there. I saw some surprised/pleased looks when I started. They only let me play two numbers. I played Half asleep at the wheel and Duncan; my plan was to throw down some multitasking in the form of picking and playing blues harp, followed by a complicated picking song and something else--modeling what a melody can do for a song.

When I wasn't open mic-ing, I began working on my Demo Album. I purchased a Boss BR864 eight track digital recorder and started laying down tracks. Although I worked in a Recording Studio years ago, it wasn't until I started laying down tracks on my PC last year, that I discovered the secret to power tracking--that is putting down an excellent guide track. I will save you hours and hours and hours. If you have a great guide track, the rest will follow; if you don't you'll flounder--especially if you're going track by track like I have to do. This Demo CD started recording itself. I've done eight songs in eight days... that is out the door finished. A song a day, recording, mix-down, and transfer to the PC. Pretty awesome stuff. I am pleased with the sound of it more that I ever thought possible. I am a full band on many tracks on this disk--two guitar tracks, two vocal tracks, a bass track, harmony tracks, and an occasional harp track. Life is good and I'm extremely pleased.
Here's what I have down on "tape":
Down Drinkin' at the Bar
Harvey
Allison
Half Asleep at the wheel
Last Dance with Mary Jane
Life by the drop
Unrequited to the Nth Degree
Sunny Afternoon
Right now I'm working on "Hey Bartender" but I'm too burned out on recording to finish it today so it will have to wait.

Tuesday Fiztgerald’s. I had the best time playing there. It's very loosely run and spontaneous. Lots of help from the "bar choir". Interesting combinations of genres and sounds people joined one another for a tune or two. Lots of musical history there as well. The people were VERY supportive of me and seemed to really dig "Mary Jane’s Last Dance". I had problems with my volume. Apparently it was loud "out there" but my monitor was low, so I overplayed—strummed very hard and as a result lost a great deal of precision. Live and learn. I guess I have to accept that the folks out there don’t necessarily hear things the way I do. I’ve got to trust that the mix out there is good. Thinking back I had a similar experience at 602 North.
The coolest thing about Fiztgerald’s is the synergy that happens at the end of the night when people come up to jam and it’s freakin’ magic man. Beautiful music. Everyone is engaged—band and bar. It’s like a basement jam, with a wet bar. Nothin’ better.

Thursday I arrived about five minutes late for my start (the muse allows you to call in your time). We had a bit of a problem finding the place. I walked in the door and went right up on stage. That was a first for me—normally I kind of acclimate myself to the room and audience. The sound system was great! My monitor was perfect and I could hear myself so I played with a lot more precision, and confidence. I wasn’t trying to compensate the PA. I must learn to never do that—if it is too quiet, it’s too quiet. Nothing worse than being too quiet and also lacking precision.

Friday fat bean.