I've been trying to write a blog entry about
Texodus, my last show as a Dallas resident, for months now. It's not happening. I'm not sure why. It could be that I've been playing a show or traveling or rehearsing almost every day since then. It could be that now I'm busy settling into a new home. It could be that when I finally find time to sit down, the last thing I want to do is glue myself to a computer screen.
It's been frustrating not documenting this event, because it is the single coolest show that I have ever worked on. It was the culmination of four months of hard work. A lot of phone calls, a lot of emails, a lot of scratching my head and wondering how it was all going to work.
It worked wonderfully. Every musician performed well. The audience was gracious and attentive, making a little sacred space for us in the listening room of
Opening Bell Coffee. Speaking of the venue, it was great, too. Pascale, the owner, has always been a huge advocate of local music, and she came through again that night.
I've decided rather than retell the entire evening, I'll share three memories that really stuck out to me. Here they are in no particular order:
Ashley Myrick's (Lalagray) comment.
At long shows like these, someone has to play first. This dubious distinction fell to
Lalagray (pictured above), a fantastic Dallas-based pianist/songstress. Ashley (her actual name) took ownership of the slot with grace and professionalism, and she thoroughly entertained the lucky folks who got to the show early.
After a few songs Ashley paused to thank me. I'm so glad I happened to be in the room at the time (I was running around much of the evening), because her comments stuck with me the rest of event and still resonate with me today. In short, she told the audience that she appreciated the fact that I organized a show with a lot of different local artists. She also reminded me this wasn't the first time I had done this.
The rest of the evening I ruminated on Ashley's words. The community of artists is very important to me, and I love it when I see musicians working together instead of ruthlessly clawing at each other like many of our corporate counterparts. I believe there are essentially two ways to look at your fellow artists: as competitors or colleagues. You can either believe that there is only so much to go around, or that there is plenty for everyone.
One of the beautiful things about this night was that there seemed to be a sense of true camaraderie between the artists. I saw folks talking to each other who may have never met before, and other folks who may have just lost touch. It's absolutely paramount that artists behave this way with each other, and it was so great to see this happening at an event that I was involved with.
If I leave a legacy behind, I'd like it to be one of bridge-building. Ashley's words helped solidify this desire inside me, and now I hope I can do more events like this in the future. I also hope the people I leave behind carry on this tradition.
Many thanks to Lalagray for reminding me of the importance of an artist community. Please go check out her music at
www.myspace.com/ashleymyrick. Better yet, keep an eye on her calendar and go see her play live. She's great.
Mapping it out beforehand.
This memory actually occurred two days before the Texodus event. Still, it's one of my favorites. I wanted to ensure that things would go as smoothly as possible during the day, so I tried to cover all my bases. I visited the venue several times before the day of the show, so I could hopefully know how all the pieces would fit.
The first thing I saw when I walked into Opening Bell for my run-through was Carlos, our amazing sound man, hanging the speakers from the ceiling. His head had disappeared into one of the ceiling tiles and I could hear the clicking and clacking of his wrench.
After I walked around the listening room for a bit Jen, the manager, took me around the labyrinthine corridors of the Mosaic building, showing me where the artists could park and how they could access the elevators, etc. As I followed her through the maze of staircases, hallways, and underground parking, I began to feel a big bubble of excitement welling up in me. I thought this was strange, since this wasn't even the day of the show, and we were just doing a lot of walking. But now I think I know why I was excited.
One of my biggest dreams as a musician and performer is to be a part of a true-blue, professional show. One where the lights go down and the audience cheers as they can see the silhouettes of the musicians finding their places on stage. As I was following Jen around and trying not to get lost, I enjoyed the idea that I was putting so much work into this one show, along with all the artists, and people like Jen and Carlos. The fact that all these people were working together so that music could be played and heard by people was incredibly beautiful to me. I also felt more professional than ever.
Things didn't go off without a hitch, as was to be expected, but I think the show was overall pretty well organized and had a nice flow to it. We stayed pretty close to schedule and it seemed like the audience enjoyed themselves and so did the artists. I'm so glad that I took the time to walk the route that I would end up running several times that day.
Standing ovation.At the end of my set the audience applauded long and loud, and--best of all--on their feet. I had curiously booked a headliner other than myself for my own going away party, so while the audience clapped and cheered for what seemed like minutes I hurriedly put away my equipment so we could get Doug and his band on stage. It was slightly awkward, but kind of wonderful, too.
A voice inside me said, "You'd better take a good look around this room. This doesn't happen everyday." I stood up and made myself slowly scan the room to see the smiling faces telling me goodbye. I found it difficult to look people in the eye. I was more vulnerable than I expected to be, I guess. It was such an emotionally charged moment, there on stage nearing the end of a show that was the culmination of four months of work. Friends and family surrounded me, including my best friend, who had traveled across the country to play drums during my set. And in several hours I would be leaving this familiar place.
*****
I don't think this is my most finely-written blog ever, but I really need to post it and move on. Big thanks to everyone who came to Texodus, all the artists who played, Opening Bell for hosting us, and the DFW community for supporting mine and all the other area music. I'll see you soon.
Dylan