So I’m hangin’ with my homies a couple Fridays ago – Steve Rapson had asked me to stop by his studio and do some keyboards for John Gerard‘s upcoming CD – and we were just chewing the fat, and Steve says, “Sam, you know what your act needs?” And since Steve is the author of a very, very valuable book on solo performance skills, I say, “What, Steve? What does my act need?” And Steve says, “You should tell more stories. You have such a commanding voice. Spaulding Gray is dead. Someone should take his place. Why not you?” He went on to emphasize that these stories would need to be carefully crafted, but he thought they could add a great deal to the show.
Hmmm, think I. I like telling stories. But I do an awful lot of stuff already that doesn’t involving writing and performing songs (I’m doing one of them right now, typing away here). And I don’t really want to get into scripting my performance, unlike some very successful performers I choose not to name. So that could be bad. But on the other hand, what’s most important to me is getting you lovely folks back to see me – if I never sell another CD, I really couldn’t care less – and certainly, adding another dimension to the live show couldn’t hurt in that regard. Think I.
So I’m getting ready for my most recent show, this past Tuesday, just a few days after Steve and I have had this conversation, and I’m looking at the set list, and I think, what the hell. Can’t hurt to try it. So I spend some time in the car, driving in all the various directions I drive that Tuesday, thinking about how to expand the short stories I tell before a few of my songs. And I hit the stage, and I give it a shot.
And it’s an instant hit. Lots of names on the mailing list (which is what I want, after all). Someone (perhaps one of you) tells me I’m “amazing” (we like amazing). Someone else tells me, utterly unbidden, that he liked the stories. I’ve been performing on stage for more than twenty-five years. I’ve spent painfully large amounts of time learning the simplest elements of stagecraft. And over the last few years, I’ve gotten some really good audience response. But never, never have I experienced such immediate validation of something new.
This is the beauty of live performance, and it’s one of the reasons I love it so much. I could have fallen flat on my face – but at least I would have been able to tell. Thanks, as usual, for listening.