As many of you know, I maintain a list of open mikes in the Boston area. Like most acoustic musicians in the area who (a) aren’t genuises and (b) don’t know the CEO of Rounder Records, I’ve spent a good deal of time at open mikes in my performance career, and because of my prominent (har, har) role in the open mike community, I’ve frequently been mistaken for an open mike host, or asked why I don’t host an open mike myself.
I’ve been thinking about this subject a lot lately, because of some upcoming turnover in the open mike scene. Buffie Groves is turning over the Sit’n’Bull, which she inherited from her performance partner David Fishken, to Seth Connelly; and Ellen Schmidt, our ubiquitous open mike den mother, is quitting TCAN in favor of Phil and Trish Knudsen. I don’t know Seth very well at all, but I do know everyone else involved, and you can see here some lovely examples of what makes a good open mike host.
On the one hand, you have the sweet ones, the people who wouldn’t hurt a fly, like Phil and Trish, or Dan Cloutier at Amazing Things, or Susan Master, who used to host the open mike at Springstep, or the lovely, gentle Anne Eder-Mulhane, or the immortal Oen Kennedy. Genuine kindness is a truly rare thing in this world, as is genuine enthusiasm and patience, and it’s a great combination for an open mike host, because their frequently weak-kneed charges need all the encouragement and enthusiasm they can get. On the other hand, you have the personalities who are the forces of nature, in one way or another. Buffie. Fishken. Ellen. Steve Rapson, who used to host the Java Jo’s open mike. Some of these folks are forceful but kind. Some of them would hate to be thought of as kind, but are great at being kind and supportive when it counts. One of the most marvelous things about this latter gang is that if you get to know them, and they believe you when you tell them you want the truth, they’ll tell you the truth.
And then there’s me. Fact is, I’m not a particularly patient person. I don’t like to listen to music for more than an hour at a time. I don’t have a lot of patience for listening to bad music. I hate biting my tongue. I have an internal alarm clock that usually goes off about three hours after I arrive anywhere, and then it’s time to leave. The idea of me as an open mike host is a laughably awful one. I’d last a month, maybe not even that. And boy, would you hate me.
I can’t understand why anyone would want to do it, frankly. You’re constantly assaulted with booking requests, many of them utterly undeserving. Virtually no one knows how to use a microphone well, or how to interact with the person doing sound, or how to maintain the audience’s attention. People are rude, and ungrateful, and it takes a long time to find a supportive room. Plus, you frequently start the night with your own set, and you’ve hardly ever had time to prepare. Every night, you walk around the room asking strangers for money for the evening’s feature artist. And you have to come up with something complimentary to say about everybody, including people you’ve never met before and people you know and hate. And nobody ever says, “Nice job hosting tonight”. A good open mike host is like an umpire – nobody notices unless you screw up.
So I think we should start an annual holiday: Host Appreciation Week. Every open mike will have a party for its host – bring cake, and cookies, and take a request from the host, and introduce the act that comes right after you, and pass the hat for the host, for once. And at the end of the evening, everybody will raise their cup of tea, or bottle of beer, and offer a heartfelt toast to their open mike host, who isn’t me. And I’ll join you.