To say that I suffer from pre-show nerves is like saying that when you get hit by an atom bomb it hurts a bit.
– Ozzy Osbourne, I Am Ozzy
At the dawn of our lives, for a few years in early childhood, we all dance and sing freely – just for the enjoyment of it.
After that brief, sweet, naïve time, self-awareness kicks in. We naturally develop the fear of looking silly in other peoples’ eyes, and by age 11 we lose the joy of singing.
Performing music in front of crowds is so scary that some of the best performers smoke, drink, get high, or vomit out of sheer terror before every show – for years, sometimes even decades. It takes a toll.
I hope that as musicians, we can find ways to cope with the anxiety of performance without turning to self-medication that harms us over the long term. Sharing our trials and tribulations openly with one another is a great place to start.
In this post and in the sequel to follow, I’ll be laying out the four scariest songwriting milestones I’ve faced – and offer some insights on how I survived them.
Scary Songwriting Milestone #1: Performing for anyone
For many musicians, the first-ever performance is low-key – usually they play a cover song for a tiny audience of family or friends.
This first step out is worth celebrating: It’s your first small step into the limelight, however small that limelight may be. The feeling of eyes and ears on you can be both frightening and thrilling.
It’s common to get nervous and make mistakes. Through repeated experience you learn that mistakes are nonfatal, and hopefully each performance gets a little easier.
Of all the instruments, one of the scariest ones to play in front of others is your own voice. Long after I’d grown unafraid of playing guitar in front of friends, singing in front of an audience still scared me.
The keys to overcoming performance fears are practice, preparation, and repetition. The better you train and practice, the more likely it is that you’ll be able to give a passable performance despite the adrenaline shakes and the roar of blood in your ears.
Be kind to yourself, learn from these mistakes. Every forgotten lyric line, missed chord change, and off-key high note makes you stronger. Wear those scars with pride.
Scary Songwriting Milestone #2: Having your creations critiqued
Offering your creative work to other songwriters and asking them to criticize it is a serious step, and it can be scary, even if it’s friendly and constructive criticism. I’ll never forget sitting in a college Creative Writing course, scratching notes and swallowing the lump in my throat while a circle of fellow writers scratched their heads over a piece I’d written.
I’d written this piece from a place of deep feeling. But my baffled readers – fifteen of them – confessed one by one that they just didn’t get it.
Having a piece of my writing flop in public was embarrassing and awkward and painful. I felt a real sinking sensation in my gut. But I also learned a lot from what my fellow writers said about the piece’s problems. The experience made me a better writer because I got feedback on what wasn’t working.
When you offer your creative work to a critical audience, you open yourself up to hearing that your song or your lyric isn’t as good as you hoped. It stings, but you learn. You get the kind of feedback that helps you make the critiqued song better (or helps you make future songs better).
If the thought of receiving constructive criticism makes you nervous, check out this post: Receiving Critique Doesn’t Have to Feel Like a Strip Search. My best advice for surviving critique is to remember that, like a doctor visit, it’s temporary discomfort that is ultimately good for you.
No matter what, learn your lessons, lick your wounds, and keep on writing.
Creative Commons photo by Raphael Strada
My first open mic performance was a comedy of errors. I forgot words, my guitar kept feeding back, the host disappeared and couldn’t save me from myself. It was trial by fire but I learned that by sucking as bad as I did I could only go up from there.
I was living in Amsterdam as a young boho hipster, I could play a few tunes on guitar and ions evening an Irish friend came by really excited about a gig he’d gotten, ” and we’ll get paid” he said, his eyes like saucers. The only full tune he could play was a Joan Armatradign hit, I forget which one, but he said he had a few he’d pull together on stage. The “stage” turned out to be two chairs that we stood on at the end of a long rowdy bar, full of British and Irish labourers, migrant workers as they’re called now. The bar manager, who had organised the “gig” turned off the stereo and shouted ” Shut the fuck up, we have live music”. One or two girls cheered but the guys just looked sullen so we stood up on the chairs with two steel string acoustic guitars and whacked into a Van Morrison tune called Madame George. Halfway through the second verse I knew something was seriously wrong and not just with my voice, which was quavering badly. I noticed Neil had a capo on the second fret which meant he was playing in A while I was playing in G…… I don’t know how we got to the end but as soon as we did Neil immediately tore into the Armatrading number at the top of his lungs while I tried to watch the chords and fumble along… I think we were halfway that one through when the manager turned on the stereo really loud and jerked his thumb at us to get off the chairs and come to the bar. He gave us about teh dollars each and a beer and said, ” I’ve heard some really dreadful shite in my life but you two are the very worst by a lfuckin ong shot”.
I don’t honk I got out of bed for about three days afterwards I was so traumatised.
I did keep playing though and met up again with Neil about five years later back in Dublin where he was playing in pubs. I had moved on to piano and songwriting but Neil was still belting out the Armatrading and Van Morrison stuff on the same old guitar which seemed to he held together with gaffer tape and nails……..and I have to say it sounded to me that he had actually gotten WORSE….
So there, that’s my worst first gig story: but I thought, well if I survived that, Shea Stadium will be a cake-walk…… I did a gif in Brownies in Manhattan years ago that was hilarious too but that’s another story…
Later awesome dudes.. May you rock forever…
Pearse..
I sang and played in an open mic in Edinburgh – totally scary but made it through. Scariest moment was in front of Ray Davies from the kinks on a songwriting course. Best bit was he grabbed my guitar and gave me an idea for a chord riff – cool
The Ozzy quote is a total eye opener. I mean, Ozzy???
I am surrounded by a circle of professional musician friends, which is terribly intimidating. It’s not that they mind me playing/singing along in all mediocrity; it’s that the bar seems so high. Failing in front of a semi-drunk audience at a local bar is not that bad; failing with friends…
It’s been two years since I last tried to play outside the confines of my home.
To end on a positive note: Creating a gaming video and adding my own soundtrack to it is a lot easier, because you don’t get that direct, immediate, human feedback.
I played for the first time during the spring of 2012 in a coffee house in the small town where I still live. It was a laugh riot of nerves (made worse by the free coffee offered for playing), mistakes, and bad jokes.
I had spent a few months writing my first ever songs and without apology or shame performed them in front of a crowd made up mostly of my friends, and friends of friends. I drew a lot of laughs that night with my demeanor and reactions to my own mistakes, but for the most part folks were impressed.
I’d created a set list of about 12 songs, most of which I’d written myself and covers of a few well-known classics. Knowing I’d forget most of the words, I made sure to have a stack of print outs available at which to glance down in extremely awkward fashion. It was a fun experience that I look back upon with happiness, especially because numbered among the 20-odd people was my now fiance. We met for the first time after my set–a mutual friend talked him into coming to watch me play. Our town is small enough to where we would have met eventually, but I’m glad I performed at that time and place. A first live gig is a hell of a first impression!
Also, pretty sure I responded to Aleks’s comment by accident. Some awkward things never change! But I’d like to add that in my very limited experience, folks have always shown basic empathy and understanding when it comes to performing in bars and coffee shops. I’ve learned since to recovery quickly from mistakes (they happen) and to prepare myself better ahead of time. Most importantly, I have fun!