
The room was packed, the band was on fire, and the vibe was electric.
The stage was set for me to give a killer performance. I was due to take the stage next as the headlining act of the night.
There’d been three performances ahead of mine and the crowd was getting steadily larger and more responsive – which always seems to happen as the alcohol level in the room rises.
And then the band finished their set with a flurry of fireworks (musical not literal) and they leisurely began to break down their gear and leave the stage in no hurry at all.
Over the next fifteen minutes the crowd gradually moved toward the back of the room, and then out the door…
And by the time it was time for my band and I to get on and set up our gear – you could hear the crickets chirping (again, not literal – but you catch my drift).
“OH FUUUUUUUUDGE,” was what the voice said in my head. Except it wasn’t fudge.
I felt all of my excitement to do what I love most in the world – perform my music for a willing audience – drain from my body.
A little background for those who haven’t been following my weekly blogs: I’m an actor/musician/frontman/husband and father of two based in LA. I had a nice run with a touring rock band about ten years ago and now I’m re-launching my music career anew with a solo project. I’ve been releasing music and gigging in LA to build the noise and preparing for big things. Which brings us to…
…one of those moments where I wonder “What the F am I doing with my life?”
As an independent musician building a career, there are many challenges. Some are unique to the musician lifestyle – but some are very similar to what it takes to launch any sort of startup business.
In this case, they all piled on top of my shoulders and I could hear the screechy agonized voice of my three year old self scream “I don’t wannnaaaaaaa!!!” and then “mommmmyyyy!!!!”
FYI, I have a little boy who’s two right now so this voice is truly fresh in my head.
But here’s where it gets different and where we get to my entire reason for sharing this experience with you: I heard another voice, maybe my seventy three year old self – let’s call it my Yoda voice, say “Take yourself to the bathroom.”
I listened and walked straight to the men’s room. Luckily it was empty and once inside I walked straight up to the mirror and peered into my own eyes.
And then I spoke. To myself. Out loud. And here’s what I (or Yoda?) said…
“Dude, you cannot control how many people are going to be out there watching and listening to you. You have no control over any of that. What you do have control over is how you sing and perform tonight. So here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to take a breath, walk out there, and give the performance of your life for whoever the f–k is there. You’re going to pour yourself into every lyric of every song and leave every ounce of positivity and love that you have in that room. Got it?”
I nodded, YES.
And then I walked out of the bathroom and proceeded to do as ordered.

I proceed to give my best show. And after song two something happened. People started to enter the room and join us toward the front of the stage. With each song the crowd grew, until toward the end it was pretty packed on the dancefloor.
More importantly, the crowd was energized and they were hanging on each word that I said or sang. They’d gotten on the roller coaster and we were riding the ride together.
And that is the reason I do this whole thing. It’s to pick people up and help them to escape the humdrum boredom of regular life – if even just for an hour.
This was the most important show – and probably one of the most important learning lessons I’ve had as a performer (heck as a human!).
As my high school football coach used to tell us, “Leave it all on the field.”
Every chance that you get to do the thing you love: give it everything you’ve got.
No matter who’s there, no matter who’s watching. Just give. And then you’ll never regret having held back your gifts because you were waiting for that next, bigger, better opportunity.
I didn’t get signed to Capitol Records that night. What I did get was something far better (for me). I received the gift of knowing and being empowered to not let the quality of my performance and my feelings be determined by my environment. This took me years (decades) to learn and figure this out. Hopefully, it doesn’t take you as long. But regardless, once you learn this lesson – no one can take it away from you.
I happen to have written and recorded a song that I think encapsulates this experience pretty well.
It’s called Light It Up, and the chorus goes like this…
“Let’s light it up
Let’s light it up like the stars in the sky
Let’s tear it down let’s tear it down like them walls in the night
Let’s rip it up let’s rip it up like the past of our lives
Let’s light it up let’s light it up like the stars in the sky”
I hope you like it:
Light It Up: https://youtu.be/Yi2rLr3gU5Y?si=ekU3yOGtBuqT_DBW
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Internal image courtesy of author
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Photo credit: iStock
