Well, the gig’s over, the loaded one, sober, first in years, first in this key, first in Gainesville. It saddened me to face the fact that the demon Stagefright is still with me. I had hoped I had vanquished that beast, but no, there it was, stealing from me, bastard thief that it is, stealing my voice, my agility, my rhythm, my confidence, my intensity, my focus, all the things he always stole from me. The performance, it was good enough, and good enough only, but terribly sad to know that I have lost this battle to this demon. I am furious.
Essentially this is why I quit playing out all those years ago, battling this demon also takes every ounce of fun out of performing, because I know that I will never perform to my potential so long as this battle wages. I think perhaps it might be best to fall back on the decision I had made years ago, to play to my heart’s content, but not in public. Yet the desire to play out burns in me. Why?
Audiences never seem to notice it, but I am in the constant grip of nervous fumbling and insecurities that tap all the strength from my vocals, and of course from my fingering. So many times I missed things on the guitar and with my voice that I KNOW I can do.
No decisions about the future of my performing have been made, but for now, I am greatly annoyed that it felt so panicky the whole time. I am also pleased that I know it could have been much much worse. Overall, I would honestly say the performance was mediocre at best, certainly not inspired, certainly not a trainwreck or embarrassment, but certainly dogged by demons.
Ah- your mother rides a vaccuum cleaner!
(By this I mean you didn’t seem nervous and everyone had an amazing time. Thanks for sharing.)
And keep in mind, this is my “Diary” that this entry falls under. Why I have decided to share all this stuff on-line I don’t know, I think I’m just an exhibitionist… who knew? (Besides everyone in Gainesville, I mean).
Always warm as honey from Hutchowen!
Probably being to hard on yourself. Your own worst critic. But there are slews of world famous artists with the same problem. Even Meg White, the drummer for the White Stripes, had so much anxiety in public she gave it up. Honestly, you probably play worse swilling Black Velvet. Just feel less anxiety.
Hey, where is my face? Oh there it is. 🙂
Mmmm… Black Velvet… that was my brand!!! ‘Coulda used some last night!
Oh… I think I just missed the point…