Folk On!!!

“It’s sort of acoustic-indie-folky-rock.” I say. California-guy looks at me and says, “Well folk on then.” I think this is kind of funny. We are standing on the balcony (which is really just a very tall porch) of an establishment on Belmont Rd in Nashville, TN called PM. This restaurant stays open until 3 am and I initially assumed that the name PM was a reference to that fact. I now know that that’s not the case but I can’t remember what the name actually does mean. That and the fact that this place has excellent burgers that you can buy late at night are a little off the point though.

California-guy is a songwriter and I’m talking to him and his wife, a female friend of theirs (whose name escapes me) and one of the waiters at PM. This is Nashville so we are talking about music and bands and songwriting. Actually it’s mostly California-guy and the waiter and me doing the talking. I get the impression that California-wife is a little bored by yet another conversation about songwriting. But that’s also a little off the point.

The thing that California-guy said; “folk on” is the point here. People have referred to me as “rock star” and on occasion people have said to me, “you rock man”. I’m always mildly flattered by these sentiments because I get that this is a show of support and encouragement (mostly from friends who would say “you rock, man” even if I really didn’t at all, in any sense of the word, at any time because they like me and care about how I feel). However I’ve often wondered if I really do “rock”. I wonder if I am perhaps more of a “folker” than a “rocker”.

Sometime during 2008 I did a gig at a place in Durban, South Africa called Boogie’s Rock n’ Roll Diner. The place is sort of a white elephant; the manifestation of one man’s rock n’ roll dreams. Every inch of the walls are covered with guitars in glass cases signed by various famous rock bands. Gibson Les Pauls and Fender Stratocasters abound. There’s even a few really nice Telecasters and I think a Gretsch. The collection must be worth as much as the restaurant itself. Again this is a little off the point.

I finished my set on the night in question and this guy and his wife came up to me and asked me if they could buy my shirt. I don’t sell t-shirts as part of my merchandise. They wanted to by the shirt off my back. This was my favorite t-shirt. I bought it for $5.00 in Knoxville, TN in 2005. It was green and said “IRELAND” in orange letters across the chest. It had deodorant caked in the armpits and on the night in question was soaked in my sweat.

Of course I thought they were kidding. They weren’t kidding. They said they would give me money and the husband’s t-shirt and they wanted me to sign the shirt. I knew that this would make for a good story so I agreed to this exchange. The couple were really nice and they bought a CD. I still get e-mails from them every so often.

Until last night, I think that may have been my only real “rock n roll” moment. No matter who you are or what you do for a living, if someone asks to buy the t-shirt you are wearing (not because they like the t-shirt but because they like you or something you just did) then you are in that moment a “rock star”. This kind of thing happens to rock stars on a regular basis. It doesn’t happen to me on a regular basis and that’s why I still don’t think I am in general a “rocker”.

Last night was another “rock n’ roll” moment for me though. I played a gig at Café Coco with two other solo artists, Andy Elwell (www.myspace.com/andyelwell) and Adam Burrows (www.myspace.com/adamburrows). After some discussion we decided it would be best if we each did a couple of short sets instead doing one long set each. Now it’s been a while since I played a real gig so I was a little nervous. My first two sets didn’t go without hitches as a result but were still decent. By the end of the night the people who’d come to see us play had gone home and a new crowd of young punk rockers had arrived for the show that was after ours. This was a good thing because we each got to play to a full room of people who’d never heard our music before.

For some reason I was really relaxed during my third set and played two songs just because they were the songs I wanted to play. I nailed them both. Most performers are either naturally gifted with a sense of empathy or they develop it the more they perform. This means we can read a crowd and we can usually tell the difference between polite applause and genuine applause. After my last set last night I got the latter and as soon as I got off stage this guy came up to me and asked to buy a CD.

While I was packing up my guitar, Adam came up to do his last set and he said he really liked those two songs. I said something like, “yeah, I always play better when I don’t care what the crowd thinks.” To which he responded, “Exactly. That’s how you should always play.”

I think that’s what makes a real “rocker” though; a person who lives genuinely all the time. A real “rocker” plays what they want to play because that’s what they want to play. Even though they want to be liked (because why else do you get up on stage and play music) they don’t play that way. They just play and they play better because of that. So in that sense it’s possible for a classical pianist or a ballet dancer or a sculptor or, I suppose, an accountant to be a “rocker” sometimes.

Lately I’ve been trying hard to be the person that I am all the time. I tend to be a “politician” in that I sometimes say things I don’t really mean just to be polite. I agree with points of view that I don’t really agree with because it’s easier than arguing the point. I realize that’s no way to be so I’ve been trying to tame my natural tendency and just be who I am and think what I think and play what I want to play. I think that will make me a better person and a better “folker” and probably more of a “rocker” too.