My friend Carrie is a singer songwriter. She was classically trained, but her clear and pure voice makes her the perfect fit for Celtic and folk as well. She’s recently made a foray into blues and jazz and blew me away at the fall Blues concert I talked about a couple weeks ago.
I love singing . . . but I’m not a performer at heart. Or rather, I’m a torn performer. If you’ve been around this here blog for a while, you know that my parents were in a band for about 11 years and toted me around as a young thing to places like Japan and Daytona Beach, where the classic rock blasting through the speakers didn’t prevent me from going to bed on a blanket by the mixing board at the allotted time.
I’ve inherited my parent’s love for music, and once I get over my nerves I really enjoy performing. But those nerves . . . those nerves. They can kill it for me, and are one of the big reasons I decided to switch from being a Classical Guitar performance major to an English and French major the winter of my sophomore year. The way I explain it genetically is this: my dad is a behind-the-scenes guy. He mixes, runs sound, records, and has a fantastic ear. If he performs, it’s in a group such as a choir. My Mom, however, is a spotlight girl. She’s comfortable on stage, at ease being the center of attention, and has been singing under the stage lights all her life. Then they gave birth to me–and I landed somehwere between the mixing board and the stage.
Personality wise, that is–my Mom did not actually projectile-birth me into an aisle at a concert.
I may or may not hate being the center of attention–it gives me an unpleasant feeling deep in my stomach. This explains three things: why I’ve never been good in front of the camera, why my dreams of being a famous actress crashed around me at a tender 14 years of age, and finally the subject at hand: why doing back-up vocals is the perfect solution for me. I’m not the main act, so I don’t have to sweat it–but I get to be part of the amazing music that other great musicians are making.
It’s all coming together into such a neat package, isn’t it? It’s like my personality may actually make some kind of cohesive sense instead of being a riff-raff of sillyness, weird little dances, and this uncontrollable habit I have of spanking my loved ones.
Moving on! All of this has been a backdrop to the following: when Carrie invited me to sing with her for her gig at the Red Line Tap here in Chicago, I said ‘yes’ immediately. Carrie will be singing and playing the guitar, her husband Eric is on the piano, Petras is on the drums, and I’m the back-up girl. It’s a short set–about 6 songs or so–but it’s going to be be-yewtiful.
If any of you are in Chicago and want to come hear us perform some of Carrie’s beautiful songs, be there Sunday night with a $5 cover charge in hand–I think we’re on around 9pm. You can also listen to Carrie’s recordings online on her website, so even if you aren’t able to come see us in person, go forth and listen to her lovely, lovely songs.
Happy Monday everyone! And by the way, the theme of tomorrow’s post starts with a ‘g-‘ and ends with an ‘-arlic.’ Multiply that times 16 and you’ll start getting close to the wonderment of it all. I can’t wait to share!