Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Sorry for my lack of writings these past few weeks, I’ve been pre-occupied with life and living it. I apologize for my selfishness.
First let’s talk about a fairly terrible show I had recently. I did a solo show at Mt. Holyoke, which I was looking forward to because not only was it a college, but it was also out of Boston, and I love playing outside of Boston. Now, I’m not sure how most girls are but I know for a fact that I am not really a girl that most girls like. I have little patience for petty competition, for incessant talking about nothing, and for saying nasty things about people because you are insecure. As I get older, there are fewer and fewer women that I meet that are like this, and where there was once a time when I would hunch in the corner and become the dullest wall flower you could be if I was in a room full of girls, now I am looking for the good ones. I love hanging out with women, though my list of girlfriends is still lacking compared to my list of boy friends. Girls: 5 Boys: 15+. But those 5 girls fucking rock.
So on the drive to Mt. Holyoke the reality that I am going to be playing at an all girl school starts to sink in, and I get a little insecure. It’s like high school all over again. They are going to yell at me, and make fun of my hair, and my clothes, and they are going to be putting on makeup while I’m trying to sing for them, and spread rumors that my best friend made out with the entire football team. But I try not to let this overwhelm me. I get ready, put on some makeup, put on my outfit—freshly altered in Sarah Scissor fashion—and hope for the best. There were a lot of them, they were coming in fresh from the dining hall, they didn’t look particularly excited or dressed to go out and see a show. So I started with Riots and Revolutions, and they clapped really politely and than fell silent, and than I moved on to Weekend assuming that things will warm after this because I came out swinging and am settling now…and Weekend usually is a crowd favorite. Polite claps, dead silence. I tell a story about my recent vacation to San Francisco, and there is some giggling until I get to the point of the story….dead silence. OK. GREAT. Play San Francisco. Goes over well, but still there are no ‘woo hoo’s’, just polite claps and silence. The rest of the set proceeds on like this, and I get that they like it better when I’m sweet and lovely and not so much when I get kinda angry and loud. I don’t understand this. I have played sets in front of teenagers before, and early twenty-something’s, and at exactly none of these times did the girls (or the boys) come up to me and tell me that they liked the sweeter lovelier songs more than some of the more rambunctious, passionate tunes. I feel like I’m drowning, and start to think while playing ‘Maybe this has something to do with the fact that there are so many of them. I bet you get a lot of work done at this school without all that other nonsense to worry about. Would I have liked to go to a school like this one? Would I have been a dull wallflower, or would I now have Girls: 15 + and Boys: 5’. I don’t know. But all I knew was that I couldn’t wait to get off stage. And of course, I get off stage and there is a table of lovely girls telling me how great it was, and the audience is always like this. Not to Worry. And then I watch Winterpills (headliner and very good), and the crowd acts the same way. Fine. But what the fuck?!
It still puzzles me. They buy t-shirts, but no albums; they barely sign the mailing list. Why must girls get so weird about showing if they actually like something. Even if they didn’t like me, they were there to see Winterpills. Give them some love, they asked you a question. Vocalize, be silly, woo-hoo, sway, head bob, something. It’s my great mystery right now.
And in other news, I did go to San Francisco on a much-needed vacation. It was great. I saw my best friend (girl) that I hadn’t seen in three years, and it was so fantastic. I saw my cousin (girl) that I grew up with and love to bits. I also saw my other best friend (boy) that moved out there recently. I laughed a lot, ate a lot, drank a lot, and stayed up late a lot. I also, after 8 years of dreaming and waiting, ate an In N Out burger animal style with fries, and a vanilla milk shake. I almost cried in anticipation, waiting for them to call my number. And I ate my feast, in addition to half my man’s fries and decided that I HAD to have another burger. So I got one, and I ate it all. And even though there was a part of me that wanted to die a little bit from eating all of that food, I couldn’t have been more satisfied and happy. It will always be one of the best meals I have ever had. 8 years of waiting is a long ass time.
And lastly, I am looking for a producer to produce my album. I have some ideas, but I am not full on set. My insecurity comes up, ‘do you actually like me, will you get this song, will you make me sound like Sarah McLachlan, I don’t want to sound like Sarah McLachlan, will you make me sound like Tori Amos, I don’t want to sound like Tori Amos’, because it’s important for me that my producer does not dislike my work, and gets what I want to do. Call me crazy. And it’s just one of those things, embarking on this relationship with someone, that is a big decision. I want someone that will fight with me, but that will back down when they know I’m adamant. That will help me with song selection, someone that’s going to help yank this beast out of me. Because it’s ready now, even though I’m still writing, it’s ready to begin again.
I’m ready to begin again.
Things I have been listening to: A lot of Mozart, Satie, and Chopin. Various opera Arias. The new Yeah Yeah Yeahs (which has grown on me and I really like), the new Victory at Sea, old Bowie (Hunky Dory, Station to Station, Space Oddity), DeVotchKa, and Cyndi Lauper
Things I am trying to read: Anna Karenina…..and I’m not having very much success
First let’s talk about a fairly terrible show I had recently. I did a solo show at Mt. Holyoke, which I was looking forward to because not only was it a college, but it was also out of Boston, and I love playing outside of Boston. Now, I’m not sure how most girls are but I know for a fact that I am not really a girl that most girls like. I have little patience for petty competition, for incessant talking about nothing, and for saying nasty things about people because you are insecure. As I get older, there are fewer and fewer women that I meet that are like this, and where there was once a time when I would hunch in the corner and become the dullest wall flower you could be if I was in a room full of girls, now I am looking for the good ones. I love hanging out with women, though my list of girlfriends is still lacking compared to my list of boy friends. Girls: 5 Boys: 15+. But those 5 girls fucking rock.
So on the drive to Mt. Holyoke the reality that I am going to be playing at an all girl school starts to sink in, and I get a little insecure. It’s like high school all over again. They are going to yell at me, and make fun of my hair, and my clothes, and they are going to be putting on makeup while I’m trying to sing for them, and spread rumors that my best friend made out with the entire football team. But I try not to let this overwhelm me. I get ready, put on some makeup, put on my outfit—freshly altered in Sarah Scissor fashion—and hope for the best. There were a lot of them, they were coming in fresh from the dining hall, they didn’t look particularly excited or dressed to go out and see a show. So I started with Riots and Revolutions, and they clapped really politely and than fell silent, and than I moved on to Weekend assuming that things will warm after this because I came out swinging and am settling now…and Weekend usually is a crowd favorite. Polite claps, dead silence. I tell a story about my recent vacation to San Francisco, and there is some giggling until I get to the point of the story….dead silence. OK. GREAT. Play San Francisco. Goes over well, but still there are no ‘woo hoo’s’, just polite claps and silence. The rest of the set proceeds on like this, and I get that they like it better when I’m sweet and lovely and not so much when I get kinda angry and loud. I don’t understand this. I have played sets in front of teenagers before, and early twenty-something’s, and at exactly none of these times did the girls (or the boys) come up to me and tell me that they liked the sweeter lovelier songs more than some of the more rambunctious, passionate tunes. I feel like I’m drowning, and start to think while playing ‘Maybe this has something to do with the fact that there are so many of them. I bet you get a lot of work done at this school without all that other nonsense to worry about. Would I have liked to go to a school like this one? Would I have been a dull wallflower, or would I now have Girls: 15 + and Boys: 5’. I don’t know. But all I knew was that I couldn’t wait to get off stage. And of course, I get off stage and there is a table of lovely girls telling me how great it was, and the audience is always like this. Not to Worry. And then I watch Winterpills (headliner and very good), and the crowd acts the same way. Fine. But what the fuck?!
It still puzzles me. They buy t-shirts, but no albums; they barely sign the mailing list. Why must girls get so weird about showing if they actually like something. Even if they didn’t like me, they were there to see Winterpills. Give them some love, they asked you a question. Vocalize, be silly, woo-hoo, sway, head bob, something. It’s my great mystery right now.
And in other news, I did go to San Francisco on a much-needed vacation. It was great. I saw my best friend (girl) that I hadn’t seen in three years, and it was so fantastic. I saw my cousin (girl) that I grew up with and love to bits. I also saw my other best friend (boy) that moved out there recently. I laughed a lot, ate a lot, drank a lot, and stayed up late a lot. I also, after 8 years of dreaming and waiting, ate an In N Out burger animal style with fries, and a vanilla milk shake. I almost cried in anticipation, waiting for them to call my number. And I ate my feast, in addition to half my man’s fries and decided that I HAD to have another burger. So I got one, and I ate it all. And even though there was a part of me that wanted to die a little bit from eating all of that food, I couldn’t have been more satisfied and happy. It will always be one of the best meals I have ever had. 8 years of waiting is a long ass time.
And lastly, I am looking for a producer to produce my album. I have some ideas, but I am not full on set. My insecurity comes up, ‘do you actually like me, will you get this song, will you make me sound like Sarah McLachlan, I don’t want to sound like Sarah McLachlan, will you make me sound like Tori Amos, I don’t want to sound like Tori Amos’, because it’s important for me that my producer does not dislike my work, and gets what I want to do. Call me crazy. And it’s just one of those things, embarking on this relationship with someone, that is a big decision. I want someone that will fight with me, but that will back down when they know I’m adamant. That will help me with song selection, someone that’s going to help yank this beast out of me. Because it’s ready now, even though I’m still writing, it’s ready to begin again.
I’m ready to begin again.
Things I have been listening to: A lot of Mozart, Satie, and Chopin. Various opera Arias. The new Yeah Yeah Yeahs (which has grown on me and I really like), the new Victory at Sea, old Bowie (Hunky Dory, Station to Station, Space Oddity), DeVotchKa, and Cyndi Lauper
Things I am trying to read: Anna Karenina…..and I’m not having very much success
posted by Sarah RabDAU at
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