"Another Nightmare Gig in Hell"!
A couple years ago, I had a really big gig coming up. I had just released my second cd, had been touring for a couple years, and was getting some regional and national attention. I was maintaining my small-but-loyal fanbase and had made enough connections to actually support myself playing music... barely. But, I was doing it, and that in and of itself was a major victory. So... back to the gig. I was booked at The Living Room in New York City and was really psyched. At the time, The Living Room was the number one venue in NYC for singer/songwriters to play. I had been hearing about it for years and every songwriter that was playing there seemed to have something cool going on. It was an amazing opportunity and I couldn't wait.
Finally after months of doing bar gigs, coffeehouses, colleges, you name it... my Living Room show was upon me. I drove up the coast to NYC and found my way to the lower east side. My first gig in NYC, ever! How exciting was that!? On my drive in I saw Yankee Stadium! I arrived at The Living Room like 2 hours early and it wasn't open yet, so I walked around looking at designer shoes in the store windows and soaked in the eclectic scene. After that, slice of pizza, carried in my gear, and I was brimming with anticipation.
I walked into the venue and they directed me toward "the living room". I was thinking, "Oh cool, this is actually like a living room." I walked through this very heavy velvet curtain which acted as a barrier to the entry room (which was really just a waiting area and nice bar) into a very elegant, private, intimate space with about 60 chairs, a great stage and sound system. Here's the deal. At The Living Room, each artist gets a 45 minute "show", where a different crowd is charged every 45 minutes to come see that particular artist. (You probably see where this story is going. And if your a musician who lives in NYC, I know you do.) That night I was the first artist out of five, and I played from 7pm to 7:45pm. But this was a happening place, and it was a friday night too. So this was bound to be great!
For the first 10 minutes on stage at The Living Room I was completely alone. And I'm talking, not a soul besides mine was behind the velvet curtain. The soundman even stepped out because his cell phone rang. At this point I was on stage saying to myself, "Close your eyes and enjoy the music. Isn't this what you love? You knew this was going to be a long journey. Just a bump in the road Kev. Soon this will all be over and no one will ever know you were even here. Just close your eyes, drift away with the music, and relax." So then of course I opened my eyes. "Wait, what's that? The velvet curtain is opening", I said to myself. A girl walked through and sat in the very first chair she saw in the very last row. Now, I was like "Oh great, how awkward is this? How embarrasing is this situation? I mean, could it get more humiliating? This girl has come to probably her favorite venue to find some loser playing to nobody behind the magic velvet curtain." Nevertheless, I did my best to get through the show. She seemed very nice and occasionally smiled. And she stayed the whole time (hopefully not out of an uncomfortable sense of politeness). We talked briefly and she was sweet, and I showed my sincere appreciation for her being there (which was true), but still kind of in an I'm-trying-not-to-show-you-my-humiliation way. She left. The gig was over. Thank god.
I walked out of the velvet curtain to find 100 people! All waiting in anticipation for the next act! Now I'm like, "Where did all these people come from? Good lord, now I'm the loser who not only did none of these people want to see, but while they were waiting and my "show" ended, it was blatantly obvious only one person did!" I tucked my head and walked. After a couple minutes, I did talk to some of these people in line and asked, "So, why are you guys here? And who is this next guy?" It turned out he'd had 3 songs on the tv show, "Grey's Anatomy" in the past season (right when the show was its hottest too). And all of these people knew him from that. In my head I said, "I give up. I mean I can't compete with McDreamy, or whatever his name is."
My friend Derek and I walked around town going to some pretty cool bars that night. Derek is a friend from my hometown and he had become a lawyer in NYC. I was staying at his apartment. He would've made my whole show but he was working late and did manage to catch the last five minutes. Okay, so I had two people. We had fun and I basically tried to forget about the gig. But there it laid, festering in my mind. I drove home the next day... dejected. And there it laid, for years.
Last week, nearly three years later, I got this e-mail....
"Dear Kev, I loved your music ever since I saw the most special concert of my life... you playing in the "Living Room" in NYC and me to only listener.... I am not in NYC, not even in the states anymore, but I've still got your cd and once in while when somebody asks me for some special music, I say Kev Rowe, nobody knows but in the end everybody loves your music :) Keep up the good work, best wishes and many smiles from sunny Austria. sincerely, eva :) "
"Oh my god! Did she just say "the most special concert in her life"!?", I said, shocked. I re-read the e-mail a couple times just to make sure it said what I thought it said. "And she's from Austria! You have to be kidding me. I can't believe this." A wave of humility rushed through my veins, followed by a swell of satisfaction in my soul, and ending in a total warmth in my heart. I still can't believe it. And I'll never look at playing music in public the same. My worst "nightmare gig-in-hell" turned out to be someone else's "most special concert of my life." Crazy.