Live...and Confused

I know what I did last night. But I don't know what I did right last night.

I got slowly drunk, eventually going on late, tired and irritated after the previous act played 25 minutes of 'encore'...and another act was shoehored in before me. I ate some bad party food, comprising 90% sugar, salt, vinegar and MSG. Oh and I had a cold.

On stage I couldn't hear myself sing so I belted like mad, giving myself a sore throat and guttural speaking growl. And I found that I could inexplicably sing high notes way out of my usual range without difficulty. Half the time I couldn't hear the backing clearly enough to tell whether I was in tune - though apparently I was.

So what do I need to do? Sing on a half-full stomach? Get super-relaxed? Stoned? Shout? Catch a cold? Hurt my vocal cords? Block up my ears? I've tried wearing bulky headphones that mean I can barely hear myself, meaning I have to belt - the result so far is...hitting the wrong notes.

I'm open to suggestions. I'm the meantime, I'll carry on annoying the neighbours and puzzling the dogs.

Oh yes, how could I forget. A serial fantasist I know was also there, drunker and even more delusional than ever.

After my set he went into guru overdrive mode, going on about how he'd hone my talent and turn me into a worldwide megastar. This is someone who knows nothing about music, nothing about the music business, and most especially nothing about why none of his big plans have ever worked.

Zero forward planning, zero finances, zero capacity for self doubt, close-to-zero attention span...and infinite control freakery are some of the reasons.

But now at least someone has uttered to me those classic words: I'm gonna make you a star.

I just hope it wasn't his aura of batshit optimism that was the mysterious magic ingredient of my performance. That would be an irony worthy of any gift from the olympic gods.


  1. What? No diva moments? No yelling at the little people or throwing things at personal assistants?

    Perhaps all your practice singing is paying off.

    Isn't I'm going to make you a star usually followed by Let's go back to my place?

  2. Hmm. If I had a personal assistant...I'd get stoned backstage and send them on to do the songs :-).

    Isn't I'm going to make you a star usually followed by Let's go back to my place?

    Ha! This particular starmaker is one of those who straight men who likes to tell gay men he doesn't have a problem with them being gay. Emphatically and several times a minute.

    What is it about these men? They're more interested in my lovelife than I am. They certainly feel the need to talk about it more.

  3. I think the phrase is 'Let's go back to my place bouncy-bouncy.' :D :P

  4. @Nick: I think the phrase is 'Let's go back to my place bouncy-bouncy.' :D :P

    Ah, how long have I waited to hear those words from you!


  5. This is so unfair! I have a gig almost every week and not once has anyone promised to make me a star... or even invited me back to their place.

    Granted, my gig is playing the piano at church...