ben wakeman : : Journal

Another Night, Another Show

June 4, 2004

Last night marked another performance for me at Eddie's Attic. I was thinking about my history with that place --- and it's funny that it really is a history now. I've been playing there for ten years, at least 7 times every year. I can remember my first encounter with the place. I was totally enamoured with the entire mystique that surrounded the room. I went in on a Wednesday afternoon when I was living out of my VW Van in 1993. I walked into the music room and met Eddie who was busy hanging some pictures up on the wall. I asked him if I could do a live audition for him (my recorded demo sucked) and he just smiled at the young Rube standing in front of him with a guitar case. He told me to come back on Monday and sign up for the open mic. So I did. And I continued to play that open mic for several months. I used to live for my ten minutes on that tiny stage in Decatur. That was the stage where so many of my heros had played. I can still remember how nervous I used to get.

Years passed and I got the chance to play with many of my songwriting heros on that stage. I made friends who went on to be big stars and others who disappeared into the landscape of a middle-aged non-musical life. And still I have hung on. Maybe I have held on for too long. There is a kind of magic that I have always associated with that room, and sadly it's not there for me anymore. Last night we played for a handful of folks who showed up and the vibe just isn't there anymore. There was a time that I could reach that connected, spiritual place when I stepped onto that stage, no matter what else was going on in my life or the rest of the world. I'm mourning the loss of that. Eddie is gone, the soundman I've know for so many years there is gone. All my old friends are gone.

The late night drive home after a gig is like a decompression chamber, a transition from one life to another. My ears still ringing from the amplifiers, my head a little fuzzy from fatique and a couple of beers. I go over the set in my head, thinking about the delivery of each song. Did it work tonight, did I connect with anyone? Did I give anything back? Did I inspire anyone the way I have been inspired so many times before? In the end, there is no way to know. Just the sound of the wheels and the passing headlights of other cars on there way to different destinations.

There will be other gigs. Maybe not at Eddie's anymore --- my time there may be up. I still am moved by a song and I think I always will be. The band is strong, and it's good to be playing with such talented guys with big hearts. We will keep playing. It doesn't matter where or how many people are there. We will keep doing it because we have to.