Baby, I wasn’t born this way/I’m with the band

Baby, I wasn’t born this way/I’m with the band

So after Friday's post re possibly not fancying the idea of being famous blogger person after all, I wondered when the change occurred. Because I certainly didn’t used to fear worldwide adoration.

In fact, there was a time when I was positively extrovert.

Do you remember 1998? No, not 1989, that brilliant Taylor Swift thing. Or 1989, the Ryan Adams cover version of Taylor Swift’s album that I keep reading is brilliant but that sounds pants to me.

Anyway, 1998.

The year I was in a band.

We played but one gig. One isn’t a very impressive number, so I’ll make it sound better by saying that this one gig took place at an iconic music venue and that Oasis had played there not so long before, so there.

On the night itself, I was a tiny bit miffed.

We were all multi-talented, so there was quite a bit of rotation of instruments, positions etc as we shifted around for different songs. I was playing drums on two songs, keyboard on a few, lead vocals on two and backing vocals on others.

Susie (I should probably change her name but I’m confident she’ll never see this) had written the song on which I was to play an amazing drum thing. I don’t remember much of the terminology now, but my music for this piece was the best and I was really excited about it. Not least because the other song involving me and the drums was ridiculously fast and tricky but came across as supremely easy (one of the friends who came along said I looked bored during it, but it was actually my face of extreme concentration as I endeavoured to keep up the frenetic pace for an entire song – the drummer cannot lose time!). So this was pretty much the only opportunity to thrash all the drums and be a proper drummer with breaks, anticipations and all that jazz. I’m not sure this should still haunt me 17 years on, but, well, I clearly haven’t forgotten it yet.

Susie turned up to the venue with “laryngitis”. This was in no way related to her being out clubbing until all hours the night before and losing her voice through goodness knows what sordid nocturnal activities. So Susie couldn’t sing her song, and nobody else had bothered to learn it. So it was dropped from the set – my drum-azing song, gone!

I still had my excellent self-penned ditty to perform as the grandest of finales. Only, because I was also on dumb keyboard, I ended up at the back/side/backside of the stage singing lead, with my backing singers front and centre, crooning a few “oohs” now and then.  What a crock.

You see? Bitter about not being able to show off on the skins or whatever people call drums; resentful of the backing singers pushing their way to the front whilst my soaring vocals got lost up the stage’s backside.

The highlights were there: we did go down a storm. I jumped off the stage at the end. I was asked for my autograph. Because I find it difficult to tell anything but the whole truth, I am pretty much forced to add that, although the gig was a sellout, it is a famously small venue. And the stage was about two foot high. And the autograph hunter was a child who had somehow managed to get in. It was still awesome.

So there was a time when I’d have jumped at the chance to increase my audience. And in real life, too, not just at my laptop. Where did that crop top and combats-wearing little tart go?!