Sound of the Soul

Across the street we sat rehearsing our set list of the night. My fingertips were black and flaking from the copper acoustic guitar strings. We ran through the songs one last time before heading inside the Wild Vine in Livermore.

We took a seat at a table to watch the open mic performers up before us. A man played some Tom Petty cover tunes and left the stage to a 24-year-old blues guitarist named Benjamin Brown.

Ben drank a swig of beer and set the glass down on a stool next to him as he set up to play. He strummed a chord and the blues just poured out of him. The amps were dripping with soul energy.

A great guitarist is someone who can convey himself through his instrument. As the last note rang out, the crowd roared in applause.

“Number seventeen, The Switch,” the announcer said.

My band members Michael and Sina took the stage with me. As usual, our set lists are decided and learned by a spur of the moment inspiration a few hours before we make it to the gig.

Tonight’s entrée would be “Road Trippin” by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, “The Past Recedes” by John Frusciante and an original song we had yet to title.

We counted off to four and jumped into “Road Trippin.” We were all a little hazy as to how many times to repeat each section of the song, so we let the feeling guide us. We rode the rhythm through the bridge bucking us backing into the verse. It didn’t matter what rough edges we left in our trail, we were having a great time doing it.

My heart rate used to rise causing me to tense up when I first started playing shows. The stage and limelight is an energy you have to learn to navigate. All eyes are on you. Every sound and motion you exhibit is being processed. Are you good enough? Will you get applause?

Now all I do is try to let my soul come alive through my instrument and voice knowing that, “A tear in the writer is a tear in the reader.”

It isn’t about the number of notes or complexity that makes a great song, it’s the ability to plunge into the listener’s heart and tell them a story. I let passion take the reins to get the buggy up and running. We walked offstage with some rough edges still hanging in the air.

“Great Job, it’s nice to see some young guys out here playing music,” a man in the crowd said.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I told him.

Nothing else in life can bring me closer to who I truly am than music. And that night I walked out of the Wild Vine feeling like a true musician; light on cash and heavy in happiness.