I play songs

Another night at SCALA. It's always a pleasure to play at Higher Ground - if it wasn't for the Songwriters, Composers and Lyricists Association, I would have most likely given up performing music back in the late Eighties. That fact startles me when I write it down, but it could well be true. It's even more of a pleasure to play for SCALA when I can help them out at short notice. I got the call on Tuesday night, to see if I was available for a Thursday gig. You bet.
The late-summer dusk is seducing Adelaide as we walk towards the grooviest venue in town. Inside, it's the usual pre-gig ritual. Artists trade greetings; some genuine, others perfunctory. The MC scurries around, collecting tidbits of performer information for his respective introductions. There's a proper sound guy, Chris, and a small but interested crowd. Unfortunately the hordes of David Robinson fans are absent, something to do with late notice, hair-washing duties and other important impositions...
I'm on first. I tune up, do the sound check, and get a glass of wine. Off I go.
The set is most enjoyable. Some nights it's great to be a performing songwriter. This is becoming a more common occurrence, I am very pleased to say. It's a warm evening, but the venue is cooler than usual, thanks to the new ceiling fans. The sound is good on stage, and (as I find out later) quite listenable in the front-of-house. I play a few new songs, a few oldies, and blow my harp a bit. The 12-string is firing on all cylinders. I see friendly faces singing along, which is always inspiring. I see others that are totally oblivious to the songs - something which doesn't bother me, despite sort of defeating the purpose of why I am here. No matter, each to their own. That's a challenge for me, not for them.

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