One time, we had a Saturday night gig in Concord, and we knew the bar well.
Knew the people.
Alex worked there as a bartender..
So we went to setup all of our shit around noon.
All the amps, mics, drum set…
It was so early in the day, but three or four early drinkers were already sitting at the bar..
We got plugged in, played a few verses at lowered volume, just to get dialed in..
The chemistry was there.
And one old guy came from the bar, he held up 40 dollars and said
“Hey, sounds great, think you guys could play one or two more? Drinks on me”
Such a small thing..
Two twenties.
But the gesture…
This guy liked the noise we made.
Our hands and our brains.
It could have been five dollars…
It’s the fuckin gesture.
When the entire world screams at you
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!”..
Here’s one old guy, saying,,
“I feel ya”
Saying he dug it.
And all the years and all the hours and all the love you put into the act….
Somebody noticed.
And it felt so fucking validating…
Like it was all worth it.
Like you want to keep going..
Such a sweet act, something so simple..
“Hey guys, you don’t suck!”
Ugh.. lord, let me bottle up that feeling.
Let me keep it in my pocket, wherever I may go.
Let me always have it and always remember.
Externally validated confidence.
I didn’t know that fucking guy.
He had no good reason to cough up forty bucks,, he just,,,
He liked the way we played Little Wing.
One of the best feelings in the world.
Someone saying “good job” at a sound check..
That feeling has become completely absent from my life.
It’s in the rear view.
And shame on me for that.
For letting it get so far back there..
Not the validation,, but the chemistry.
The setting up of equipment.
The Live.
Shame on me and my dumbass for that…
dawn 