Soul. Music.
in Gigs Photos Posts
The two are definitely connected for me. After a lifetime of wondering what my purpose was (I mean, come on, I knew it wasn’t folding shirts at the mall), it dawned on me that I was the happiest when I was singing… especially my own music. I think that we have to learn eventually to shut up and listen to our hearts, to that little voice – call it gut, call it intuition, whatever – that whispers to us in the hazy time right before we fall asleep, and lets us know what direction to head. Or in my case, it screamed in my ear as I took a microphone and sang “Conga” by Miami Sound Machine. Now normally, that’s not a song that I would particularly enjoy singing… as a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve performed it since that New Year’s Eve night in 1999. But I’m forever grateful for that song, for Russ Corvey (who auditioned me and “cast” me for the part of singer in his normally all-instrumental gig), and for the crowd reaction that night, however alcohol-induced it might have been, because I knew right then that singing was something that came as naturally to me as breathing and that it affected not only the people listening to it, but me as well. And thanks to the people who not only partied with us that night, but whose conga line turned over my entire percussion stand, sending shaky things and chimes flying harum-scarum into the well-dressed crowd. Talk about more cowbell.
