Last night we played one of Rob Thorworth’s singer/songwriter showcases at the Austin Grill in Silver Spring, MD. Rob always pairs us up with really strong performers because he knows that Heather and I will play together on one another’s sets. I actually felt bad for the third guy last night, because I knew that in a singer/songwriter “in the round” sort of set-up, you shouldn’t have to compete for attention with a band – and I know that it’s not really about “competition”, but still, I know what I would’ve felt like in the same situation.
I try not to be competitive in the music field, but I’ve always been a competitive person, and now that it’s a business… well… I try not to be an asshole while BEING competitive.
We actually got out of the Austin Grill in time to go back to the College Perk and catch the end of Brennan’s open mic. Sharif was still there, as were a number of our other friends.
Ever since Tony came through doing his open mic documentary, I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes a “good” open mic. We’ve been to about 300 around the country over the last two years, and I was thinking about, from what I’ve seen, and with a sort of wholistic approach to what open mics are / should be, would the College Perk probably be included when he completed his project.
The Perk certainly has a place in my heart. I think that it’s one of the most steadily entertaining, high-end open mics. It’s not particularly good for beginners, because frankly, most of the performers are downright intimidating. I worry sometimes that it’s sometimes not even that good for “outsiders”, as there’s definately a crew of musicians that all play on one another’s songs, and as above, it’s HARD for a solo performer to look good sandwiched between two bands. The audience, too – is often comprised of regulars who know what and who they like, and aren’t particularly attentive to anything mediocre. I’m not saying people are rude, but you CAN tell roughly who’s on stage and how popular they are by watching the front porch for smoke breaks.
I’m sort of babbling. A friend asked me last night if I thought of the College Perk as one of the “best” open mics out there. I think of it as one of my favourites. I also think of it as one of the best open mics to go SEE. The level of performer is high enough that it’s a pretty satisfying show in its own right. As for one of the “best”, I guess there are so many different TYPES of open mics out there… there are open mics that are really good for
beginners – the Jahva House was one of those. Uber-supportive. Good players there to help the younger players, it was a really supportive environment. There are open mics that seem specifically to exist for the purpose of networking… nexuses where professionals and travellers rub shoulders and pass business cards to one another. In my experience, these are often the least fun, and the most close-minded about who and what’s acceptable.
The Perk definately falls somewhere in between. Most of the performers there have sort of “grown up” together, or at least musically matured. I pride myself on being one of the veterans on a scene that I think really began back at the Jahva House in Ellicott City, found a new home at the Java Head in College Park, and now has really come into it’s own entity again at the College Perk. Performers like Tim McCaskey (of Might Could) and Dan Zimmerman were different creatures a couple of years ago, tottering on new-found fingers and staggering under the weight of a newly discovered, but untested talent.
Now Might Could is one of the most spectacular collections of guitar talent I’ve ever seen, and Dan Zimmerman writes songs that break my heart. I pick those two out as examples, but there are a lot of others.
Most open mics seem to have a Lifespan measured in months. There are networking open mics that have existed for longer, and often have bloated reputations that lead to vastly disappointed expectations (see New England). Most open mics are started by an up-and-coming artist looking for a regular gig. It’s supported by a couple of other really strong musicians who are looking for ways to break into a scene and strut their stuff. They become regulars and probably the most popular subject of adoration at the open mic… and then they start landing regular gigs, or the host goes on tour, and the excitement dries up and dies down and the open mic dies, having served as a tool.
I think where the College Perk excels, is that it’s supported by people who really, really Love it. They Love the atmosphere, the community is good. It’s like the Cheers of the open mic world, perhaps. We all know one another, there are some who wander far from the fold, but they’re always welcome back. People who walk in off the street are often doomed to be mere extras, but they can fight their way to the forefront if they’re friendly enough, talented enough. That kind of … almost “old boys network” aspect seems to act as a sort of filter. You meet really good players at Perk, and more importantly, really good people there.
I’m babbling at length now.
I spent a lot of time sitting on the porch when we got to Perk last night. Listening to Dan Zimmerman on the stairs, listening to a couple of women singing along with his songs. I picked up his mandolin and played along and realized that somehow, in the mists of my relationships and the Trip and worrying about gasoline and health insurance, I’d fallen somewhat far from the fold. The night had cooled around us and we weren’t bothering I don’t remember anyone and the wafts of cigarette smoke somehow even spoke of something better than lung cancer.
There was a sense of home last night that I haven’t felt for a very, very long time.
Perhaps I’m just getting nostalgic and vulnerable because of where I am right now emotionally, but I felt embraced last night.
Eventually, Heather and I found Sharif sleeping in the corner, and got up on stage with Brennan playing bones and Dan playing his Lego bass. We played sloppy but well, and it just felt really, really good.
Warm haze of music, community, and a little bit of Mitzi’s watered-down Blue Drink.
Shame the mood couldn’t hold on the drive home.
