TomFlannery.com

Playing a gig this weekend with good friend Josh Pratt. Should be a blast. Josh is a kindred spirit who writes the shit out of a song, (check out our West Memphis 3 project to see what I mean) and he’s up for anything. We’re planning all kinds of surprises, including a group of cover songs that aren’t generally heard in folk-song circles. Hopefully the weather cooperates and we’re not stuck playing to a bunch of empty chairs. I once played a show to 2 people, who were sitting at a table in front of the stage playing a loud game of Scrabble. Those were good days. Played a show with Lorne Clarke one time, and his front-row father-in-law fell asleep rather loudly during a somewhat longish coal mining ballad, which I’ve made sure never to play since.

Endless stories when you drag your guitar on-stage and try to keep people from talking amongst themselves. Opened for a polka band one time, which was interesting. Grateful Dead fans are more sober than polka fanatics, let’s just put it that way. When a 70 year old polish woman built like a pulling guard and filled with way too much Genesee on-tap starts giving you the evil eye, believe me, you cut short your set. I once played a show in which 2 ladies were using my on-stage monitor as a table to hold their plates of vegetables. Another time, when I was sure nobody was listening, I sang the “Barney” theme song with filthy lyrics. Nobody noticed.

I’m getting a bit old for that kind of thing these days. I hardly ever play live anymore, unless I’m paid way more than I should be, or guaranteed a captive audience. The latter is more fun, the former easy to get used to, if a bit rare. Deep down we’re all whores. We just have different asking prices is all.

Music is a wonder. I’ve played shows for hundreds of people, and played private shows for myself where I’ve strummed until my finger-tips bled and sent red dots spraying all over my pants. Both shows made the heart beat a little faster, even if I play lousy.

In a bit…

–tf