I just, like, BECAME the song

Had a great time last night at Eclipse; those shows tend to be either extremely fun or extremely frustrating, and last night was definitely the former. Many thanks to everyone who showed up and listened; having a great audience is what makes the difference. Sue Scrofa opened, and that set was so good I felt a little intimidated; everything was tight and clean and the sonic palette was broad and interesting, plus them songs are just so damn GOOD… the scruffy little man in the t-shirt with an acoustic guitar and nothing else must pale in direct comparison…

But despite that unexpected sense of intimidation, I felt unusually comfortable. Sometimes I’m able to completely drift off into the world of what I’m doing, where I’m not thinking about the mechanics of playing or singing, or really thinking about anything at all. It’s in this complete distraction-free zone that I feel like I’m my best as a performer, but I almost never get to this point when I’m practicing. It’s only with an attentive audience that I get that weird feeling of leaving my self for a few moments to just inhabit the song. I’ve heard other performers talk about “totally losing themselves” in performance, and had always kind of thought that was corny or contrived or some sort of marketing tool used as a signifier of authenticity, but after I had been performing for a while, I realized that this was actually a real phenomenon, an uncanny feeling not particularly communicable through words. It reminds me a bit of when I was an actor and I would let the character’s emotions flood over and momentarily overwrite my “real self,” ultimately, in some place in my consciousness, forgetting that I was performing and allowing the metaphysical performance space to become my dominant reality. When I’m playing a song, I like to feel like I am no longer myself, but rather a song being played through the esoteric movements of the body I inhabit. Performance shouldn’t elevate the ego; it should dissolve it. It’s a hard thing to do, though, it’s hard not to think “HOW IS THIS PERFORMANCE GOING? HOW ARE MY FACIAL EXPRESSIONS BEING PERCEIVED? DO THEY LIKE ME? WHAT ARE THEIR FACIAL EXPRESSIONS TELLING ME ABOUT HOW MUCH THEY ARE ENJOYING THE SHOW?” These are all clearly ego-centric thoughts that never occur when I feel like I’ve “become” the song. Songs can’t worry or think, they just manifest themselves, and it’s possible, in performance, to allow this manifestation to overwrite one’s sense of self temporarily. I think it’s a feeling I used to get in church when I was a child, the sense of not only some metaphysical Other existing, but being a part of that entity itself. Lately I’ve been able to think of songs as little else than manifestations of aspects of some metaphysical Other, and I’ve found a renewed excitement and enjoyment in the process of writing and performing because of this. I want to be able to lose my sense of self entirely when I perform, because that feeling can transmit itself to the audience, and it becomes a palpable presence in the room, and it’s something beautiful that everyone shares equally. However, how does one hone this skill? How do I practice onstage ego-death? Maybe I just need to play more shows…

This makes me wonder what metaphysical space I’m disappearing into when I lose myself in the Soulja Boy cover.

SETLIST 11/14/09

Warm for a While
No One’s Listening
Cricket Girl
Catapult-Rocket
Crank That (Soulja Boy)
A Neat Disaster
Radio Hit Musical
Ordinary Girl
Rubbing Arms and Setting Fires
Dangerous Drugs
Making Faces in the Mirror
Violets
Balloons and Confetti
I’m A Dog (Gucci Mane cover)
Coming Apart at the Seams
Sinister Magic
Les Enfants Dorment
I’ll Be Your Elevator