The audience makes all the difference.

It was the first Friday in April and I had delayed setting off on my holiday boat trip to compare my first evening of The Kilsby Open Music Night, at The George Hotel, after taking the reins from Paddy Wex. That night we were visited unexpectedly by a singles/social club that had come to dine in the restaurant. They hadn’t known about the open music night, but curious, they filed into the room after they had finished their meals. It was was packed, and the presence of all of these strangers added a frisson to the night. All of the performers rose to the occasion. 

For a while to come, all evenings will be measured against this. The subsequent months could only be an anti-climax. As it was, the contrast in May couldn’t have been more striking. The only audience being the performers themselves, and a couple of the regulars were no where to be seen. This might have something to do with the bank holiday weekend. While this was disappointing in terms of the excitement, it meant that those of us that did play had an opportunity to contribute more songs, practice some that might have been a bit shaky, and the relaxed atmosphere allowed  for some joining in.

Paddy sings about a night out with some birds.

Is that your guitar?

"Is that your guitar?" I asked, as the narrowboat began to move out of the lock. The steerer nodded."What do you play?"
"A bit of blues." He said, quietly, in that nonchalant and understated way that musicians are wont to use.
"Cool! Where do you play?"
"At home or on the boat. He replied. His tone still warm and friendly.
"It just happens that there is an open music night in Kilsby tomorrow. If you'd like to go, I can get you a lift."

There was a slightly uncomfortable pause and then came the rejection. "No I don't think so. I don't perform in public."

I know that there are musicians that are very hostile towards open mic nights, seeing them as ways in which pubs can provide entertainment at no cost to them, but like my boat driving friend, I had never performed in public before and it was an open mic night that allowed me to murder Bob Dillon's Don't think Twice, and I was applauded me for my effort.





It doesn't matter how many times you practice in your bedroom, or in front of your partner, playing to an audience is something else. Many accomplished performers have used the open mic nights as development venues, allowing them to try new material or just hone their patter skills.

The author sings an original composition about mouldy brown bread and cheese. The audience don't look to impressed.

Over one year on and I've played at a few venues, sometimes with accompaniment, sometimes alone, sometimes through a pa, sometimes unplugged. The quality of performances have varied from pretty good to dire, but there is always something to learn, and always something to be enjoyed.