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Author: Michael Defern

Mindfulness, Music & Marketing. I'm obsessively curious about what makes people tick and what makes us all feel more connected.

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Check out Mike & Heather's music at ParkwaySouthBand.com and their content & production company is ZenMantis.com

You Just Don’t Have It Yet

You Just Don’t Have It Yet

Published by Michael Defern on November 12, 2020

“You just don’t have it yet.” That sentence came from the mouth of legendary drummer and producer Steve Jordan – who was in the Saturday Night Live and David Letterman bands, and played with John Mayer, among many others. I heard Steve interviewed by Rick Beato recently, and this one line just hit me. It describes the creative journey perfectly. 

I was 21 when I wrote my first song. I had been playing guitar for years in cover bands, but I found myself in a situation which required something truly special. I needed to get my girlfriend to come back to me! I was so excited that I was able to channel my emotions into a real song, with lyrics and all! But, it wasn’t very good, and I didn’t get the girl. Although I got something better – the bug for songwriting.

Since then, I’ve probably written hundreds of songs, most of them garbage, but that’s ok – I was learning the craft, and enjoying myself along the way. After 20 years of playing in different bar and wedding bands while working day jobs, thinking some opportunity would just fall out of the sky, I decided it was finally time to confront the truth about my abilities as a writer. So I, with my wife and our three kids picked up and moved to Nashville. (Heather, my wife, is a songwriter too, so it wasn’t hard to convince her)

Heather and I had already put out an album which some people REALLY liked. Not everybody, but enough to plant a few seeds of hope. We had visited Nashville, and it seemed like the perfect size city – not like New York or L.A. – and had a super welcoming community of musicians. But, ultimately it was a little bar called Douglas Corner Cafe that sold us.  

It’s closed down now, another casualty of the pandemic, but every Tuesday night they had an open mic that down here they call a “writer’s round” (some venues, like The Bluebird, arrange the musicians in an actual circle, which is where round comes from.) To play at Douglas Corner, all you had to do was call into their old fashioned answering machine at 1pm and leave your name. Each week at 12:55 we hit the phones, calling nonstop – dial, busy signal, hang up. dial, busy signal, hang up – like we were trying to win Springsteen tickets from a radio station. The trick was to get on early while more people were in the audience.

Local legend, Donnie Winters, ran the open mic for years. After he did his sound check and went over the ground rules, he started calling people up. I was almost always nervous. Playing and singing my own songs without a band to a packed room was not something I was used to! The stage was set up with four stools and microphone stands, with beautiful blue hazy lighting. The front half had rows of tables and chairs for the serious listeners, and the rear was where the bar and networking took place. In Nashville, it’s all about co-writing, and this was the kind of place to meet other musicians you might have a connection with.

I remember this one particular Tuesday night when I was feeling especially good. Rather than my regular, “man I don’t want to do this, but I have to push through it,” I was cool, calm, and present. I was in the moment. Maybe because I knew I had a good song prepared, and because I had been taking voice lessons (Breck Alan’s and The Art of Body Singing is LIFE CHANGING for singer songwriters in particular, because he’s all about playing your voice like an instrument instead of just hitting notes). Donnie called four names and I went up on stage, plugged in my guitar, adjusted my mic, and waited patiently for my turn. I sang my song, “Oklahoma.” It’s a heavy song, recounting the great lengths I went to in my early attempts at sobriety. I felt like I had a good performance, and the audience applauded. I didn’t get any hooting and hollering, but it felt like a genuine reaction. You can feel the room when people are paying attention. And I knew I had them. But, it wasn’t until I got off stage that I realized how well it went over.

A few people stopped me to shake my hand on my way to the back of the room. My adrenaline was turning into a headache and I wanted to get away from everybody for a minute. Just before I walked into the Men’s Room, this guy pulled me aside and said, “Man, that song really hit me. I have a brother who is on drugs, who I haven’t seen in years. That song just made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.” I’m not great at taking compliments, but I gave him a sincere and hearty “thank you” and kept moving. Later on I realized how amazing that compliment was, and my insides began to blissfully jump up and down.

It’s interesting how music works. Oklahoma wasn’t a happy song. It didn’t make that guy happy, but it did stir something in his heart. Emotion – to be “in motion”. I think sometimes we just need to get our cold hearts moving again in whatever way possible. Maybe he just needed to feel a connection with someone who understands.

Back to the interview with Steve Jordan. The story he was telling was about a Rod Stewart track he was working on. They were trying to get the sound right, and it just wasn’t happening. Someone walked in and gave him some encouragement, “You just don’t have it yet. It’s alright, it’s alright, you just don’t have it YET.” So they kept tweaking things, and eventually, by moving one of the drum microphones just a few inches … BAM! It all came together. You see, I spent decades thinking I had to get good enough to go on stage in the first place, but I realized the stage is a critical part in the development process. If I wanted to get really good, to become a professional, I needed to get real world feedback, and not fool myself about how good I think I am.

Open mic nights are the perfect place to try out material, to see what works and what doesn’t. I’ve watched enough Jerry Seinfeld documentaries to know that most comics “practice” their new acts at small clubs. I’m trying to get a reaction – not just a courtesy applause, but for someone to come up to me afterward and say, “I really loved that song.” If no one does that in a room full of people, how would I expect to get the attention of random people out on the internet? And if no one responds, that doesn’t mean I should quit, it just means I just don’t have it YET.

Music is about evoking a human reaction. You never know who is going to respond to what song. So, the secret, if there is one, is to keep writing and keep testing. Find out what works, and treat the people who love your stuff as if they are your soulmates.

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Building Your Own Audience Based on What You Love

Building Your Own Audience Based on What You Love

Published by Michael Defern on November 2, 2020

Passion is the secret to making good content and building a following

I woke up yesterday morning, like most mornings, playing the alarm snooze game. I had some vivid dreams … I was at a recording studio, an old abandoned mall, and at one point I was wrangling a blue and orange man into the back of a van, then through the kitchen of a fancy restaurant. Why would I ever want to get out of bed with that kind of entertainment? Especially when I know what’s waiting for me – that old familiar tormentor, the voice in my head.

“We’ve got to pay bills today,” my inner voice tells me.

I know, I know, I replied.

“We have to call the guy about the video project too.”

Got it.

“And, don’t forget, we have to work out today too.”

Yes, thanks for reminding me.

So, I manage to pull myself up onto the edge of the bed, staring out the window. The Venetian blinds are closed, but I can feel the cold and nasty outside. Another dull rainy day, trapped in a house that seems to be shrinking by the minute. It gets smaller and smaller the longer my family attempts to live, work and go to school all in the same place, thanks to COVID-19.

But, there HAS been a silver lining. My writing. I had always enjoyed writing, but over the past few months it became a passion. I even started thinking that I might be able to do it professionally (whatever that means these days).

For some reason, I was feeling really down. Aside from the normal life problems, worrying about money, politics, and health, I couldn’t shake the idea that I was just spinning my tires, working hard at nothing. I had been pouring so much of my heart and soul into writing. In a short four months, I had written a book about spiritual awakening, a short story (fiction), and probably a dozen fairly involved blog posts / articles. I should be proud of that. But all that went through my head was: NO ONE CARES. No one is reading it. There are so many writers out there, the world doesn’t need another one, I thought.

Pretty depressing, right? Yes it was.

That afternoon, after Heather was done overseeing virtual school for our 3 kids, we went out to vote (Keith Richards for president! (joking)) and to get some groceries (it’s so exciting just to get out of the house lately.) We listened to David Tennant’s podcast in the car (it’s amazing, by the way.) He was interviewing Neil Gaiman, one of our all-time favorite authors. They talked about the writing process, and thankfully, I was hearing exactly what I needed to perk me up.

One of the questions David asked Neil was: how do you know who will make it or not (as a writer)?

His reply: “The ones who consistently polish the chair with their ass each day.”

In other words, the ones who continue writing (ass in chair), because they love it. They keep at it, even after their first novel flops, and their second novel flops … they keep going.

I knew exactly what he meant. Before COVID, I had a habit of pursuing most things in life, not because I loved them, but in order to “get” somewhere. But now I was compelled to write each day purely out of love. I enjoyed doing even if no one ever reads it or buys it.

It was as if I had just stumbled upon this new thing inside myself, that had always been there, that fired up EVERYTHING in my life. My video production work, my music, my relationships – it all got better, because I had found a way to satisfy my soul. I became more playful and more inspired. I was more “whole” – more confident, and less needy! You know what I mean by needy … needing praise and needing people to stroke my ego, to quell that insecurity deep in my gut. There was less of that now.  

Obviously, finding my passion had brought many indirect benefits. But, WHO SAYS no one will read what I’m writing? That’s just another bullshit story I’m telling myself. I just need to get some clarity on what exactly I’m trying to accomplish here.

The other critical part I gleaned from the Neil Gaiman conversation was the understanding that, the more I write, the better I’ll get, and the more I’ll find my own voice and my own audience. Good stuff finds a way to the top, and good stuff finds an audience (without gimmicks or slick marketing.)

By consistently writing for and sharing specifically to my own “custom made” audience, I start to develop relationships. And relationships make the world go ’round. People who know, like and trust me are likely to buy my book when I put it out. They are also likely to refer someone to my business. They know who I am.

But it’s not just a matter of writing and sending out a weekly email. There’s a lot of clutter out there, and people are busy – and people are jaded.

So, how do you stand out? By making people feel something.

How do you do that? By being real, raw, genuine, and vulnerable. Go deep into who you are and what you know. The right people will resonate.

It might take a little while, but in the meantime, it will empower you in other ways. The momentum created by feeding your passion will bring opportunities that you had never even thought of.

It doesn’t have to be writing. Do you make physical art, furniture, paintings? Take a series of pictures and turn it into a blog post. Consistently share your work. But don’t just post it on social media. Send it personally to people who are interested. In the beginning it may only be 10 people. This is about finding and nurturing a finite audience, making them feel special – talking directly to them. 

Maybe you have a thing for technology hacks. You can share bits of code, Excel shortcuts, and productivity software? You can share links to other articles and just be the curator, adding your own comments. Or, maybe you’re a better talker than a writer. Film yourself being interviewed – have someone ask questions about your expertise and experience, then chop it up into soundbites (they can be transcribed and turned into articles too.)

If you share what you love, that authenticity will attract the right people. And if you create for those people, they will love you back. Passion is the fuel you need to keep going when you start to doubt yourself. But, like I said, you never know what opportunities may arise, and what this process may do FOR you. If you feed your soul and share it, you’ll be amazed at what happens.

Do you have a passion that you might want to build an audience around? I love to brainstorm stuff like this. Let’s talk. I may be able to provide the perspective you need to recognize how and where to get started.

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Making Videos for Your Small Business or Personal Brand

Making Videos for Your Small Business or Personal Brand

Published by Michael Defern on October 22, 2020

Approach it more like a documentary than a commercial

We’ve all grown up seeing ads on television. Car commercials, insurance, food, toys … all trying to sell us something, tugging on our desires, insecurities, and fears. The makers of those ads are trying to “get” us, and we know it. That straight ahead traditional ad format may work for the big corporations, but it’s not necessarily the best approach for small businesses.

First, there’s the issue of budget. We don’t have millions to barrage people to point where our brand becomes a household name. The big companies are in it for the long haul, knowing that over time, the repeated messaging will become entrenched in our minds. I always laugh at Limu Emu, it’s memorable. But it’s also on ALL THE TIME. (My 10 year old daughter, Abigail, has the Farmer’s Insurance and Arby’s theme songs jumbled together. “We are Arby’s, bum da bum da bum bum bum.”) The problem is that most of us don’t have the budget to even make a dent using traditional ads. If we don’t have the resources to go “all-in,” we need to make our videos more personal.

Second, there’s the messaging. I’ve been working with business owners for over 10 years, and most of them are not crystal clear on who their target market is and what they’ll respond to. They don’t have a marketing department to test ideas, or a sales department in the trenches to provide feedback. Without that clarity, running traditional ads is just gambling. And most business owners tell me that new customers come from word of mouth, relationships, and referral partners. “People buy from us because of who we are,” they say. If that’s the case, then the video better have some depth to it. Not like the law firm commercials where it’s grossly obvious that the elder lawyer, who “cares” about you, is reading from a teleprompter. That doesn’t give me the warm and fuzzies.

What’s the solution?

Make real, authentic videos that capture some of what’s already going on inside your business. Document rather than advertise. This way, whoever sees your video – even if it’s just a link in your email signature or a boosted Facebook post – it’s an extension of you and your team. It may not double the size of your business, but it will help maximize the interactions you’re already having. When someone visits your website, they will be more likely to lean-in if they see real people being real, rather than hitting the back button to avoid your ad.

Forget about writing scripts that sell your features and benefits. Embrace the idea of not knowing exactly what the video will be about. Pick out some interesting people (you, employees, customers) and focus on a situation, and keep an open mind. A good writer would tell you their inspiration comes from somewhere beyond thought (Stephen King calls it uncovering fossils). You want to go exploring, interviewing people, and looking for genuine moments. Then, go through the footage (the 2nd draft), and only use the parts that stand out. This could be talking or it could be visuals – or even better, both. The exciting thing about this process is that you get to see yourself and your company from a completely different perspective.

We’re looking to capture passion and substance. Why do you get out of bed in the morning? What’s the reason the company was created in the first place. (Be careful, we want emotional moments, not a history lesson!)

This is the stuff that, when someone visits your website, or scrolls through their Facebook feed, it makes them stop and feel something.

Remember, it’s not just the words people say, but how they say them. Sometimes everything can be summed up with a look. That kind of content can’t be faked, and the viewers know it. That’s why we purposely don’t script things. Gather first, then judge later.

BUT, for this to work, you and your people need to feel comfortable. They need to let down their guard, so the conversations unfold naturally. A good producer will create the atmosphere, and ask the right questions – and, of course, listen with obsessive curiosity.

Header image “Cash Squirrel” by Heather Prescott Liebensohn, Zen Mantis Photography

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Wait, People Love Me When I’m Awkward?young deer at silvermans farm in CT michael defern dot com

Wait, People Love Me When I’m Awkward?

Published by Michael Defern on October 1, 2020

How I overcome business meeting anxiety by being honest and vulnerable

I’m driving along the Housatonic River on route 34 toward Newtown, trying to enjoy the newly changing leaves – the reds, oranges and yellows hanging down over the road on a sunny fall morning – but, all I can think about is what I’m gonna say at this networking meeting that starts in an hour. 

I stop to grab a bacon, egg and cheese – and another coffee, before getting onto Interstate 84 West. I’m on my way to a hotel in Danbury (CT) for a BNI meeting. That’s an acronym for Business Networking International, a group of business owners and salespeople who get together each week to trade referrals, and help each other meet potential prospects. I had been to meetings like this before, many times in fact. I like the structure of it, compared to the more general cocktail hour type networking. But what is causing me anxiety is the fact that I’m gonna have to stand up and give my elevator pitch to a room of 20 or 30 people. I’ve done it probably a hundred times, but I’m still afraid.

Too much coffee. You’d think I would have learned by now that all that caffeine probably doesn’t help my anxiety. But, the little comforts – the food, drink, and snacks before and after the meeting are what get me through. (I had given up all of the other, much stronger vices.)

There I am, cruising down the highway in my Honda Civic, loudly reciting my commercial, competing to hear myself against the loud rumble of the tires at 70MPH. I have some notes. I had tweaked a few things from last week’s pitch, thinking THESE words will get people to react, and get them to come running up to me afterward and say, “Oh Mike, you are so awesome! YES, sign me up! YES, I want to pay you lots of money to make a video for my business!”

That’s how I thought.

I had been struggling to keep enough customers coming through the door to pay the bills to feed my family, and I was in a perpetual state of desperation, for years – seeking out the right words that would finally open up the floodgates. I was searching for a holy grail to solve all of my financial problems. I was determined to write a magic elevator pitch. 

Was I trying to build relationships?  No.

Was I trying to make friends? No.

It was all a con job. What can I say to these people, to get what I want.

Of course, I didn’t know that’s what I was doing. I’m actually a really nice guy! I love helping people, and when I’m working to produce a video project, I make it all about them, and it’s all about authenticity. But when in “sales mode”, I seem to get my wires all tangled and crossed.

Is it any wonder I was full of anxiety heading into this meeting?

There was so much riding on it! I was emotionally charged with such high expectations. I NEEDED to make a sale. 

Then it was time to start the meeting. Ten minutes of announcements, explaining how things work, and leadership introductions. Blah blah blah. They start going around the room. The tables are set up in a rectangular circle, with everyone sitting, facing in. 

“I’m Joe Johnson, and my company is called Circle Box HVAC. We specialize in ….”

My heart is pounding.

“Good morning, I’m Davey with Floyd & Kramer Law Firm, did you know that 1 out of 10 car accidents result in a ….”

My palms are sweaty. I try to dry them on my legs.

“DON’T BUY ANOTHER BOX OF BUSINESS CARDS! (most exuberantly) Until you talk to my team at Hour-Man Press! We have an amazing deal, just for the month of October – a real spooky deal! Go to our website at www dot ….”

It’s getting closer to my turn. My hands shake as I open up my folded cheat sheet to refresh my memory about what I’m going to say.  

“Just a reminder,” the group leader interrupts. “Visitors will go after all the regular members do their commercials.”

I’m slightly relieved – they skip over me, for now.

Then something happens. Over the next 10 minutes, as each other person stands up to speak, I suddenly become very present, hanging onto each word being said.

I stopped thinking about what I was going to say, stopped calculating, and looked around the room. I noticed that there are a bunch of real people to my right and to my left. I’m sitting elbow to elbow with other PEOPLE – human beings.

They were all little kids once. I thought about my own kids. Many of these folks are probably scared too. Actually, I can see it now. The HVAC guy, with his logo-embroidered Dickies button-down shirt and blue jeans, seemed kinda nervous. You could tell he’s wasn’t used to being in meetings like this. He probably spends the majority of his time working by himself in basements and attics. 

I can feel my pulse slow down. It was as if someone had let the air out of the stress balloon I had been blowing up all morning.

I realized in that moment of clarity, that perhaps I had been doing it all wrong. When I work with people during a video shoot, it’s all about being in the moment with them, just having a real, spontaneous, and heartfelt conversation. Unscripted. Then why did I think I need to put on a dog and pony show for these nice people? I wasn’t there to entertain, to give a stand-up comedy show. I was there to be of service, to attract the right customers into my business, who value and need what I have. And what I have to sell is ME. So why not give them ME? 

It’s my turn. I stand up. 

“Good morning.” Deep breath. “My name is Mike, and I really appreciate you letting me come and visit this morning. I’m sorry … I’m a little nervous. I wanted to try and say the exact right thing, so I could make a good first impression … and I’ve making myself crazy all morning thinking about it. Does anyone else ever do that?”

I scan the room. People are nodding, and I get some smiles and chuckles. I can feel the energy as they start to lean in.

I continued on for a minute or so, sharing what I love about what I do for a living, then I sat back down. My neighbor to my right gave an encouraging “good job”. After the meeting was over, a few people came up to me and asked for a business card. One person was extremely interested, “Hi Mike! I just love your authenticity. I think you are exactly who I’ve been looking for to do my video project.”

So, I threw away the script, and let go all control. I was completely honest and vulnerable – and I had one of the most effective networking experiences EVER. I felt connected to people. Hell, I think I even enjoyed it! And I got a new client. 

People don’t want me to be perfect. That’s not real. Perfection is for glamour magazines and slick movies. In business, it’s all about relationships. It’s about people. Something happened to me that day, that I hope I’ll never forget. When I’m in the moment, not in my head, and I allow the words to just come out in whatever uncontrolled awkward fashion they’re meant to come out in, it’s almost as if I tap into an unseen power – an energy that connects me with other people – that helps me go places I can’t normally go.

It’s not about the specific words I say. It’s about one soul communicating with another.

And it’s surprisingly easy to tap into – I just need to be OK with not knowing exactly how it’s gonna go, and remain present and vulnerable. (The old way, trying to control things wasn’t working anyway!)

Header image of a fawn at Silverman’s Farm by Heather Prescott Liebensohn

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Blocked by the Voice in My Headabbys rainbow - michael defern dot com

Blocked by the Voice in My Head

Published by Michael Defern on September 21, 2020

Breaking free from my self imposed mental prison

We moved to Shelton when I was in 7th grade. Middle school was already tough, and now I was the new kid starting in a new place, midway through the year.

I was mortified by the Puma sneakers my mom made me wear, because they weren’t Nike or Reebok, like everyone else had. I thought to myself, no one will like me because I’m not wearing the right sneakers. I didn’t talk to the people at the bus stop and kept to myself at school, because in my mind, they wouldn’t like me – so I beat them to it by not liking them first.

Then in high school, I was obsessed with losing weight because I saw all the pretty, popular kids having a good time. I obsessively created endless checklists to eat less and exercise more. Instead of looking for friends to enjoy lunch with, I sat by myself with a salad, telling myself, I’ll be happy someday. Once I get through this, I’ll have lots of friends.

In my twenties, I was in a rock band playing out in bars around New Haven. We were pretty good, and the other guys were really into it – but my internal dialogue was always focused on the negative: people aren’t paying attention and no one wants to listen to us, and I can’t wait until this is over. (Wasn’t that supposed to be fun?)

The truth is, I was NEVER happy where I was.

Was someone trying to sabotage my life? (Yes, me.)

Apparently, I didn’t want to be anywhere, so drugs became more appealing. I was aiming for happiness, but settled for getting numb. Eventually, I couldn’t function without both cocaine and heroin – every day.

I was in a dark and hopeless place, where my entire existence consisted of working to buy drugs, up until the point where no amount of drugs was enough to drown out the guilt, shame, and remorse I was feeling, caused by that lifestyle. Then … when I could go no further – I hit bottom.

I desperately cried out for help, and something snapped inside. I woke up. I became self-aware like never before.

Suddenly, it was clear that what I had been looking for was not “out there.” There wasn’t some magic job, girl, or bank account that would make me happy. I needed to find peace on the inside.

With the help of some amazing people and the 12 steps, I started to question every thought that popped into my head. I saw the lies – all that crap about me not being good enough, and not being worthy of love and friendship. Says who? I could see how all the stories I had been telling myself, about myself, were blocking me off from everything good.

The most critical moment was when I realized that I was neither my mind or my body, that there was this other thing – an awareness, that could see everything from an outside perspective. That awareness was the real me.

For the first time, I was able to dis-identify with the voice in my head.

The more I was able to step back and observe my thoughts, the more they slowed down, and I began to feel connected to everything around me. I was able to experience moments of presence, of just being right where my feet are, enjoying whatever was going on. You hear that? JOY! This was the happiness thing I had seen all those other people doing.

I could plainly see how that little voice in my head is not always right, and I became free.

Today, 15 years later, I’m still sober and I’ve never lost that essential awareness. But I need to constantly make a decision to NOT engage with every single thought that pops into my head (which can still be very difficult). But, without fail, when I follow one moment to the next, without giving in to that nagging desire to control everything through over-planning and worrying, amazing things happen. Inspired action happens. Luck happens. Synchronicity. God moments. Whatever you want to call it … things are overwhelmingly better for me when I’m present.

It’s like I now have access to power that I didn’t have before. It was always there, I just had to make space for it.

How we experience life comes down to perception, right? We see things happening around us, but we get to assign meaning to it. Is it good or is it bad? For most things, it depends how you look at it.

Thoughts happen. I can’t stop them. But, when I’m awake – aware – I can see them coming, and decide which ones to listen to.

How would your life change if you stepped away from your thoughts once and a while, looked back and said, “nope – that one’s bullshit. I’m gonna ignore that one.”

—

P.S.

You’re probably thinking, how can I get to this place of awakening? Is suffering a requirement? For me, it took a crisis to wake me up. But, you may get there with just a little practice. Mindfulness is like a muscle – the more you use it, the more it grows. Here are a few things to try: Pretend you’re the Karate Kid, swatting thoughts away (remember, wax on, wax off … we’ve been watching Cobra Kai on Netflix!) You can say to yourself, “I wonder what my next thought will be?” then wait – see how long you can go. One of my favorites: all throughout your day, especially during conversations, occasionally push your foot firmly down against the floor to remind yourself to stay in the moment, to be where your feet are, and not drift into random thought. By shining a light on your thoughts, they start to slow down. Start by making a little space up there in your head, and more will be revealed.

–

Header image artwork “Rainbow” by Abigail Liebensohn, courtesy of Zen Mantis

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The Journey From Technical To Emotionalparkway south at cafe nine new haven fender stratocaster

The Journey From Technical To Emotional

Published by Michael Defern on September 10, 2020

How I finally learned to be a proper rock star

My first experience playing guitar in front of people was a little like downloading a program then double-clicking the icon, or inserting a floppy disk then typing RUN into the command prompt, for those of you from my generation. What I’m trying to say is, my performance was as if someone strapped a guitar to a robot – it had no emotion.

The year was 1992, and Shelton High School was about to have it’s first “Rock Festival”, organized by our beloved music teacher, Ms Dziamba. There were many audition tapes submitted, but only 5 or 6 bands were chosen to perform – and I was in one of them!

We were called The Prions, based on something random we picked out of a biology book. Randy was on bass, I played guitar, and Robb sang. We would get together and eat pizza, drink cases of soda, and write ridiculous songs. Our collective influences included Iron Maiden, Primus, Eric Clapton, Frank Zappa, and of course, it was the 90’s – Pearl Jam and Nirvana.

But now we had a gig to prepare for, the perfect excuse to start taking things more seriously. We needed a drummer, so I began courting Brandon, who I knew from the marching band (where I played bari sax.) He wasn’t interested at first, but eventually I got him – with a china cymbal – which we would need for our opening song, Cliffs of Dover by Eric Johnson.

I’d been obsessed with learning this song since the transcription appeared in one of the monthly guitar magazines. It was just the right combination of extremely hard to play with a hooky melody – perfect to show off a little for the people at school – to show ’em what I got!

I was a shy kid, completely wrapped up inside myself, in my own little world, as a means of survival. It was hard for me to connect with other people, because I was full of fear and anxiety. My plan was to put myself out there, literally, on a stage, hoping that I might attract some attention, then people would approach ME to be friends. 

After months of prep and rehearsals, we were ready. We even wrote an original song (mostly Robb did), called Turn Away.

It was finally show time. 

The energy that night was insane. I could feel electricity in the air, the unruly crowd of teenagers in the audience, the hum of the amplifiers, the rah rah of the other bands and the crew pumping us up as we strutted toward the stage to plug in and prepare for takeoff. 

I tested my amp … false start. Total amateur move. I was shaking and so nervous. My bare feet were sticking to my brown boat shoes.

I plunged right in, starting the intro to Cliffs of Dover, with its heroic 16th note runs, all by myself, alone. I might as well have been naked, standing at the edge of the stage, looking out into the dark abyss of the auditorium, knowing the discerning eyes of my peers were sitting just below me. Then, just as the rest of the band joined in, the hot lights came on. Red, blue and yellow gels lit us up like a Pink Floyd concert. And, there was a fiery white spotlight pointed right at ME. Holy shit.

I kept going, Randy was stage left, just eating it up. He had done this before. Brandon was up on a riser, doing his best Neil Peart impression, banging on the $70 cymbal I bribed him with. I paced around a little, back and forth, as I played. Then, in anticipation of the main hook of the song, I moved closer to the edge where the front monitors were, thinking I was really getting into it. Later on, I watched the video one of the parents made with their camcorder, and saw the truth – that I was just standing there, barely alive … fingers moving, but looking down at the guitar, with no emotion, no enthusiasm, and no excitement.

When the song was over, after a minor flub in the last crazy fast guitar run, everyone cheered. That applause was really cool, but MUST CONTINUE! Robb ran out to join us, waving his arms like a maniac – he was the perfect front man. We started The Evil That Men Do by Iron Maiden (according to Randy, that was the ideal choice because it was more “pop” than Infinite Dreams.) We also played Simple Man by Lynyrd Skynyrd (which included Jim Russell on guitar), a Pearl Jam song, and Smells Like Teen Spirit. 

When it was all over, we walked off, and I was on top of the world – it was such a rush … to be done with it! There, I checked all the boxes; the computer program had ended. For the most part it went to plan, with only a few minor errors. People seemed to like it. I got some nice compliments the next day at school, which was my goal, but nothing really changed. I did not go on to become class president.

The band carried on for a while, with different line-ups. After high school and college, Randy and I re-tooled and created a Beatles inspired band. We became very interested in songwriting, thinking we might be just be the next Lennon and McCartney. We called ourselves The Trumen, and started playing out at bars around West Haven. One time we even played at a school dance. 

Well, the band broke up, as they say. If I’m honest, it was all my fault. I was dealing with demons of the drug and alcohol variety, which unfortunately consumed most of the next 10 years. Part of what fueled my need to escape reality was a longing to have a life in music, but not having the self-esteem and confidence to really go for it. I was in many bands, had many jobs, lived in many states, and even worked at a recording studio for a while, trying to find my way, but I just couldn’t make it work. I couldn’t make anything work. Apparently, what I was looking for was not “out there” ( … it was inside.)

Long story, short – I finally woke up, cleaned up, got married, had kids, and got on a path of recovery and self-awareness. 

I began to see my past and present from a new perspective. Life got better in so many ways, but music was still in a weird place for me. Why is it that, even though I was technically a really good player, I was unable to successfully express my feelings through music? There was certainly no lack of emotion, I was an emotional roller coaster!

Through the 12 steps, meditation, and slowing down my mind a little, I started noticing how I had a habit of hammering away at songs, treating the notes like they were a bunch of 1’s and 0’s in a computer program waiting to be executed. This was nothing new, but now I could see it happening – I was aware. It seemed that playing each riff perfectly, the way I had heard it on the record was all that mattered, that each song was just a means to an end, a check box. So, I decided to change. I started learning songs to the point of muscle memory, then when it came time to perform, I’d show up and just try to be in the moment, without thinking. I made progress, but still had a long way to go.

My wife Heather and I started writing songs together. Once the kids were old enough to use the bathroom on their own, we recorded an album with some amazing players at Carriage House Studios in Stamford CT. We played some shows, but I was still uncomfortable around other people, and had difficulty channeling my emotions into the music, but I knew I was getting closer. Time went by …. getting even closer. Until …

One of the best nights of my life was playing to a packed room at Cafe 9 in New Haven. They weren’t there to see us, we were the opening band – but that was ok. I don’t know what got into me, but from the start I was completely in the moment, in the zone, totally enveloped by the experience. During our set, I was moving around, interacting with my band-mates, smiling, even dancing a little, connecting with the audience – filled with enthusiasm AND emotion! THIS is what it’s all about, the feeling I had been looking for all my life! The songs, my voice, the guitar – they were just vehicles to allow me to experience the moment. I knew how and what to play without thinking about it. I was fully alive, like a fish swimming from note to note. I saw opportunities to express emotion (energy) in each stretched-out vowel of a vocal phrase, or slow drawn-out bend of the 8th fret on the B string. It was that place within the notes, the gray area in between, that allowed me to insert my true self. Everything that had been bottled up was suddenly, beautifully released in a way that freed me and fed the audience. 

So, what had changed?

I transitioned from technical to emotional – from computer to human. I was present, vulnerable, and enthusiastic. 

It turns out that authenticity and humanity are what moves an audience, not how fast I can play Cliffs of Dover.

Performing is fun now, because there’s no longer all that pressure to “do it right”. When I walk out on stage, I’m there to interpret and express the song, the way I see it. I don’t need to sound like Eric Clapton or Marvin Gaye. I can give them MY version. If I’m honest and authentic, and not overthinking things, I can’t go wrong. Because there is no wrong! This is art! Whatever is supposed to come out, comes out, and the right people will gladly receive it. 

Finally, perhaps the biggest lesson I’ve learned, that I’m embarrassed to say because it seems so obvious – is this: if I’m having a good time, so will the audience.

–

Header image of Parkway South at Cafe Nine in New Haven, CT by Sherry Lynn Photography

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