Fifteen Minutes

I’ve always been considered an outsider – or “oddball”, “misfit”, “weirdo” – any of those nouns cover the idea. I was the quintessential quiet kid who didn’t play sports, didn’t consider myself “book-smart”, and throw in a fusion of stuttering-social awkwardness you can see why the “outsider” label stuck. It’s no surprise I would always get lost in my head, daydreaming about anything that would come to mind. That would include music wither it be from the radio, a TV show or a movie, a melody or chorus would always creep its way across my brain. And somehow in the weird and often serendipity journey of life I found myself saying the words: “Maybe I can be a musician.” Thus began my life as an artist and over a decade later it’s gone the obvious route you’d expect; lot of failure and losses with sprinkles of personal success here and there. Many EPs in which only three to five people listened to and projects that never came to fruition, but like the influences before me just licked the wounds and kept moving forward. After sometime though some of those hits get to you and combine with phrases of doubt like “Do you think this is worth it?” and “Do you really expect to make money off this one?”; it leads to that low-point feeling where you question if everything was worth it. But of course, I keep going, out of what I don’t know. Maybe it was a gnawing feeling saying “don’t you dare stop!” or maybe it’s just because I’m stubborn (guess you add that to the “outsider” title as well). In any case I continue my work which includes sending emails to promotors in the hope to land live shows and in September of 2021 (at this point live music venues have returned to running shows with updated operations), I received an offer to perform as an opening act on a three-act bill. I accepted the offer and of course took the preparation seriously in the hopes of having a good show; that included planning on a thirty-minute set and trying to get myself into the right headspace. In the time that I’ve been playing I’ve only barely managed to land official paying gigs so when I do get these opportunities, I attempt to give it 100% my all and block out all doubt the best I can. The day of the show (October 2nd, 2021) finally comes and on one hand I feel like I’m ready but on the other hand, I feel like this will be another run of the mill failure. I try to keep my focus though for as far as I’m concerned, I’m performing first and setting the tone for the evening. That quickly changes though as I’m soon informed by the promotor that one of the bands has to leave early and due to the reshuffling, I’ve been thrust into the headlining slot; my thirty-minutes has been extended to a forty-five-minutes. Safe to say this throws me for a loop and of course the initial reaction is panic, but I stop myself to take a breather and think.

“It’s only fifteen minutes. A few more songs, no problem. I can do that. Why wouldn’t I be able to do that?”

It was a simple problem so simple solution, add some more songs to fill out the slot nothing changes except it’ll be fifteen minutes longer. So that’s what I do, for the next hour I practiced four extra songs; and for some reason I found himself in this heightened sense of concentration, blocking everything else out and solely focusing on my playing and singing. There have been moments where I find myself honing in on practicing, but this time felt different. I just felt comfortable with every decision I was making. The clock started to wine down though and eventually it was now or never, I was either gonna have a good show or not no in-between. But amazingly (and this hasn’t happened in a long time) I didn’t care, I was just happy to be playing and whatever happens after that doesn’t matter. For the next forty-five minutes I can honestly say I performed one of the best sets I’ve played in my time playing music. Every note I played and sung was on point yes, but I also managed to do something that’s often a forgettable aspect of being a musician: connecting with the audience. I’ve played a lot of shows in my time wither it be an open mic or some showcase and I considered a good majority of them duds because I felt like I didn’t leave my mark and wasn’t unique enough to be remembered by the public. This time round though it was the exact opposite, every time I looked out at the audience (which ranged from friends to family and strangers) I saw…joy. I saw support. I saw people who actually want to hear me play and give an experience to their evening. By the time I finished the set and walked off, this wave of euphoria and realization came over me: this is why I do what I do. This is why despite all the doubt and setbacks I’ve been through on this path I’ve taken this is the reward; to be the reason for giving people an experience they’ll never forget. It was a long drive home that night and I can honestly say I was grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. Not only because it was a great night, but also because I think after all this time, I finally got a clear idea of who I really am: I’m Tony, a musician who entertains people, nothing more nothing less. Think that title sounds a lot more authentic.