The heebie geebies - tips for not letting your nerves ruin your performance

I had a shocker the other night standing in on guitar for a successful function band. I've played with them a lot so I know the set but because of their other commitments, there was no rehearsal. It was turn up and play.

When I said yes to the gig I knew it would be that way, so I'd spent a few evenings getting the songs back under my fingers. And by the day before the gig my homework was done - solos and endings all back up to speed.  But on the night.....

Soundcheck went well. I was using in-ear monitors for the first time and they needed a tweak but I could hear pretty well.  There were no changing facilities so we had to get changed out of the back of the van which is never ideal. As I was hopping around trying to get my trousers on I stumbled and ended up standing with one foot in a puddle in my socks. Great, a wet foot. The bass player made a quip about it being four months since I'd worn my gig suit and how I'd forgotten to get dressed. Very funny. Then somebody else made a comment about if I  couldn't get dressed playing Mr Brightside might be a challenge with no rehearsal. 

And that's when my limbic brain suddenly went haywire. Suddenly I felt really nervous and I mean REALLY nervous. Sick almost. I hadn't played with these guys for FOUR MONTHS and NO REHEARSAL.  By the time we started to play I was really tight. And so I concentrated really hard and focused on playing things right. And that meant I was not really enjoying it so I got tighter. And the more I focused the more I noticed the tiny slips I was making , which I  could hear really well through the in-ear monitors, and the audience inside my head started booing like the disgruntled audience in Guitar Hero. We got through the first set. In reality the audience loved it but it felt really hard to me.

So, I'm tense, feeling negative and all my self-talk is critical parent. But I can play this stuff. I know it backwards so the challenge was to sort myself out. Hello Google. .....

1. I told the bass player. I told him I was panicking and asked him to just listen. Then I told him exactly how I was feeling and I spoke until I could feel myself calming a little.

The worst thing about panic is that it isolates you. The limbic brain goes into solution finding mode and makes you want to run away. Telling someone what's going on tells your limbic brain that you're getting help, and the flight response abates.

2.  I asked if we could switch the start of the second set so we began with two really easy tunes that I always look forward to playing. Pick something you find easy.

3.  When I put my guitar back on for the second set I grounded myself. Put your feet flat on the floor and gently bounce your weight through them. Focus on how it feels in your body and don't start until you feel calm.  I felt my wet sock and this made me laugh out loud. And then I tore into those easy tunes to get a couple of winners under my belt.

And Mr Brightside? Well he can kiss my ass.

So what did I learn?

Using new kit for the first time, unrehearsed in front of an audience is probably not a great idea. It didn't cause my panic but it didn't help.

It often feels worse than it sounds. The little slips were mistakes to me but the audience probably didn't even register them.

Love your bass player. You never know when you'll need him to listen. But also be prepared for the relentless piss-taking in the van on the way home.

Let it go. It's just a performance. There's good ones and bad ones. Move on.

The perfect jam night

Jam nights have a terrible reputation. They promise some kind of Albert Hall blues super-group experience and often deliver a mind-numbing dum-de-dum-de-dum in 12 endless bars. Or at least you'd be forgiven for thinking that.

It doesn't have to be that way. There's a weekly jam night in the town I live near that is great. I know it's great because a.) musicians turn up  b.)  people in the bar don't leave and c.) the same people keep coming back to listen.

It's run by a couple of stalwarts from local bands and this is how they do it.

1). They have a host band made up of people who have played together over the years. They kickoff with 25 minutes of standards while calling out for musicians to come and play. The host band provide the back line too which surely is the true definition of plug and play.

2). Then they start cycling the players in and out of the band. So when you get up to play, you call out the song and the key, and maybe explain the tricky bits, and off you go. So you are comfortable that you're in a band rather than on your own.

3). It's about songs NOT endless jamming. Choose standards or at least something simple, and it all just rolls along. It doesn't mean there are no extended solos - there are  plenty of opportunities to let the dog bark - but it does mean it's not all solos, and definitely not all guitar solos.

Last week I played with three completely different bands over the course of two hours. I have never had so much fun keeping up with new people. 

Long live jam.