A few weeks ago, I played at one of the best venue's I've ever experienced. Its called the Bordello. I shared the bill with a long list of fantastic local female performers. AirRe Redtree and CarlyD booked me at a great timeset, 1a-2:30a in the side room. Amazing!! I was excited about it for the entire month, up until a few days before. I don't know if it was intuition or if I was just spent from my 4-day trip to Seattle the week before, but I felt a little deflated the day of the event.
I showed up around ten to a lovely but chill live music vibe. This did not surprise me, as there was a nice range of live and DJ acts scheduled for the night. More people started showing up around midnight as the music began to lift to a firey female party vibe.
As things go, my set time was pushed back about an hour or so, which was fine by me. The Bordello is much more of an after party venue. The girl who played before me, Dat Girl, was incredible. She played an entirely live set, pushing crazy lit buttons and singing her own lyrics into an effects processor. So when it was my turn on the decks, the side room dance floor was hoppin! My first track kept the vibe nicely and the dance floor was engaged. I mixed in the next song, then the third; some that I thought would be perfect for the venue. But something happened. Something very unusual to me: The dance floor died. Not just died. It went limp, drained itself of all its energy, and went cold. Even my friends, some of whom had been watching me for years (yay Skylar & Tura!), weren't engaged in the space I was creating. I spent 15 more minutes or so trying different songs, working to create some energy-- any energy, that was interesting. Some people would come check out the room and quickly turn to leave. Some of my friends would come by (Yay Dane, Adam, Robb Green, Mozaic & Gregorio), smile and nod their heads a little, then leave again. Soon I switched modes and played for myself, trying to have a good time, but mostly wondering Whatthefuck?!
Whatthefuck?!, I found out later, was that I played opposite the headliner, Goddess Alchemy, an 'independent arts collective fusing music, visual art, spoken word poetry, dance, their al.KEM.y designs clothing company, and community outreach to bring sacred intention to the forefront of artistic momentum'. In other words, four hot women rapping to a live electronic burlesque show. Um, yes, well I wouldn't have missed that, either.
So that explains why my vibe had died a silent death THAT night. But the thing is this... that isn't the first time this has happened while I've played here in SF. It also wasn't the last time. In fact, its been happening a lot lately. Which has my perfectionist mind cranking... whatthefuck?!whatthefuck?!whatthefuck?!whatthefuck?!.
I think there is something happening to me. My programming is erratic. I can feel it even in my new CD, Between the All (which I haven't officially published yet -- stay tuned!). It bounces all over the place. After much contemplation, I've decided that what is going on is: I'm changing. My tastes in music are changing. My experience is changing. What I think, want and feel each day is changing. The experiences that come at me, as I pick up my life here in my new city, have my emotions going in every direction. What I feel one minute is directly opposed to, slightly divergent from, or totally unrelated to what I feel the next. And its definitely affecting my playing.
When I DJ, either to the vibrant energy of a live crowd or in the calming stillness of my own home, I channel. And maybe because I haven't found my footing yet, I'm having trouble showing all the feet on the dance floor in front of me how, or even what, I feel. As an artist, I can totally understand that. Its all part of the process. But as a performer, I'm simply not down. But I guess the artist has to tell the performer to relax, take a breath and !?chillthefuckout. Once I find myself, then what I want to say will find the way.
