Open Mic Night is...

Open mic nights are sticky. Really sticky. In an ideal situation, there would be previously untapped talent sitting in the audience nursing a drink, then shyly sauntering up to the stage only to remind the rest of the venue why they love music like a second pulse. That's an ideal situation. Usually it doesn't quite work out that way. A lot of the time events like these are filled with alcohol-influenced delusion and unfortunate access to an instrument. At first, people are trying so hard to be polite but all it takes is a couple of bad notes, a failed falsetto, wrong note, and half the audience collectively winces and chokes on whatever they're drinking. It can be rough, an hour of misguided musical meanderings for a few instances of glowing talent. Personally, during the duds I start watching the chords the "artist" plays and scribble the progression on a napkin. It works.

Thankfully, I actually went to an open mic night that was heavier on the side of enjoyable than painful. Granted, the area is particularly musician-y, but that's still never a guarantee. I was surprised and the crowd was hyper sensitive. Chatter died as interest spiked and of course there were times when chatter threatened to drown the the ill-fated performance. The fourth act got up and hooked everyone with the first line. He was a little bit raspy. Combine that with witty, relatable lyrics, and decent guitar skills and those three minutes were truly his. Prize for best crowd reaction though, definitely went to one guy-- one of the few who wasn't playing a guitar-- who sat down at the piano and ripped it up with an incredibly smooth and soulful original song. It was proof that there are little buried diamonds out there which have yet to be placed in a setting. Standing ovation. The guy who followed even was forced to self-consciously acknowledge his unbelievable musical magnificence. If the other guy had everyone from the first line, this one had us by the first note.

Less successful acts included teeth grindingly long songs done in barley audible voices. "Sing along with me, everybody." No! I came here to listen. I write, not sing. A full minute of a mind numbing chorus and all I could do was pass impatient looks to my friend who looked incredulous at what we were witnessing. Others wouldn't have been so bad if they'd have been a little original and busted out of the whole sensitive songwriter schtick. We get it. You're in pain. Don't pass it along. Breathy and angsty only goes so far.

In the end, it's a tough thing to get up in front of people and try to act cool and professional, or at least not like you're about to wet yourself. It's hard, kudos to the person lacking in inhibitions enough to sing something that sounds like it was written by the guy who spiked the punch. They certainly have company. They are the proverbial "spice" of life.