Sometimes, I really wish people could calm down, and breathe.
I go to this audition for this band. It didn't work, and I'll admit that it's a big part of my own fault. I get there, and listen to the set once through, and all I can think is:
"Man, this music is busy." The guitarist is throwing in complex rythyms in the wierdest way, and when he "solos" it doesnt match the music. The Bassist is good, but not anything really special. The drummer is good as well, but again, nothing special.
I can't get comfortable with it, and something about the bassist just unsettles me. I don't know... he just seemed like he was in it for all the wrong reasons. By the time they got to the only song I was halfway interested in, I started writing, and couldn't find inspiration for it. The next thing I know the bassist is giving me attitude because I'm not right behind the mic singing. I'm not a fucking microwave, you can't expect me to just fucking do it. There's thought involved, and heart that goes with every lyric.
So, they go through their set again for themselves, and when they get to this song again, they look at me. I get behind the microphone, and I can not feel it. This music, these guys. I have no reason to give a damn, and no musical inspiration to back me up to sing. I stand silent. The bassist looks to the guitarist, and he says:
"He was aware that there would be singig tonight, right?" The guitarist returns a confused nod, and a worried face.
I tell the bassist that I appreciate how frustrated he is, but I can't work with the music, I can't feel it.
"I at least want to hear your voice, man. You drove out here, and you've sat there for two hours. I still have yet to hear you sing." He replies with increasing aggravation.
"Fine." I step to the mic, and open my mouth---
"It seems stupid to waste your time, and ours like this. Your a singer, sing damnit."
"You know what, I sympathize with you," I remove my face from behind the microphone, a single note still to be sung. "but---" the bassist plops his bass down on its stand, and turns off his bass rig.
"Good Night." He bellows, and leaves the room. I gather my stuff, and do the same, making way to my truck, and leaving his house forever.
I get home later, and get an IM, I have another audition Monday. (grin)
I go to this audition for this band. It didn't work, and I'll admit that it's a big part of my own fault. I get there, and listen to the set once through, and all I can think is:
"Man, this music is busy." The guitarist is throwing in complex rythyms in the wierdest way, and when he "solos" it doesnt match the music. The Bassist is good, but not anything really special. The drummer is good as well, but again, nothing special.
I can't get comfortable with it, and something about the bassist just unsettles me. I don't know... he just seemed like he was in it for all the wrong reasons. By the time they got to the only song I was halfway interested in, I started writing, and couldn't find inspiration for it. The next thing I know the bassist is giving me attitude because I'm not right behind the mic singing. I'm not a fucking microwave, you can't expect me to just fucking do it. There's thought involved, and heart that goes with every lyric.
So, they go through their set again for themselves, and when they get to this song again, they look at me. I get behind the microphone, and I can not feel it. This music, these guys. I have no reason to give a damn, and no musical inspiration to back me up to sing. I stand silent. The bassist looks to the guitarist, and he says:
"He was aware that there would be singig tonight, right?" The guitarist returns a confused nod, and a worried face.
I tell the bassist that I appreciate how frustrated he is, but I can't work with the music, I can't feel it.
"I at least want to hear your voice, man. You drove out here, and you've sat there for two hours. I still have yet to hear you sing." He replies with increasing aggravation.
"Fine." I step to the mic, and open my mouth---
"It seems stupid to waste your time, and ours like this. Your a singer, sing damnit."
"You know what, I sympathize with you," I remove my face from behind the microphone, a single note still to be sung. "but---" the bassist plops his bass down on its stand, and turns off his bass rig.
"Good Night." He bellows, and leaves the room. I gather my stuff, and do the same, making way to my truck, and leaving his house forever.
I get home later, and get an IM, I have another audition Monday. (grin)
Unfortunately, I no longer have an excuse to not play Counter-Strike, the only non-poker video game I've been into since Burn: Cycle.
Audition: if they wanted to hear you sing, why didn't they just cover a song you know, instead of putting you on the spot to invent lyrics? I would think the latter would require more intimacy than you're likely to get when you first meet a group of people. But then, I've never auditioned to sing, so I really dunno wtf I'm talking about [smiles].