The Hop-Frog Kollectiv’s sporadic roaming festival, Nomadic Transmissions, took root in the Mojave desert this last weekend. 25 performances over two nights, lots of good friends, etc. I wasn’t up for camping, so drove out Saturday afternoon and arrived just after dark. We were schedule to play at 8 PM but, due to some last minute changes, went on a bit later. As is our habit, we often invite people to join us and, last night, vocalist Christie Scott (Bavab Bavab) lent her dulcet tones. Due to an oversight by both Carl and myself, we didn’t record the first part of our set but, at some point, Carl hit record and we captured the last half of our performance. I’m so glad he did.
Glenn Bach, a wonderfully talented artist, writer, and good egg was at the Puka on Monday and, unbeknownst to me, took a bunch of lovely pictures during our performance. I’m not sure, but Shea Gauer of SMGSAP may have taken some too. Anyway, mad props, kudos, and thanks to both for hooking us up with this documentation:
During my many years as a musician, I’ve performed in a variety of contexts. In 6th grade, for example, I sang a solo in Hebrew as part of The Chitchester Psalms, a piece for chorus and organ, written by Leonard Bernstein. In rehearsals, the feeling of singing with so many voices was thrilling and euphoric. I felt myself open up in a way I’d never experienced before.
The night of the performance, I was filled with confidence. I remember walking out onto the stage in my new electric blue wide-wale corduroy pants, feeling the enthusiasm and support of the musicians behind me. The choir director remembered that the translated words were in the program and asked that the house lights be brought up so the audience could read along.
All of a sudden, hundreds of people emerged from the darkness and, much to my surprise, they were staring at me. In an instant, all that joy and confidence evaporated and, in its place, arose a new feeling: Terror. The music began, and I felt a bit heartened but, as my moment to sing approached, my body felt like it was going to split in two.