liminal spaces
Luckily, not many of you witnessed that suckfest of a set we played in Toronto on Saturday. Oddly enough, this came after winning not one, but two music awards in London, for best rock band and best punk band. Like most small-scale awards shows, the one I attended consisted primarily of an inbred group of musicians trying to make themselves feel legitimate. Presenters announced the nominees, opened envelopes, and winners were declared. Virtually all such events are pointless, but this one, in mimicking the irrelevant Grammys, just seemed kind of sad. When I heard our name, I wasn't sure that I wanted to. The presenter loudly proclaimed, "the award for best rock band goes to...", but I heard something more like, "the valedictorian of summer school is..."
I always thought that the strength of our band was its ability to exist between the lines, to do something specific and recognizable with indeterminant boundaries. We forged out this liminal space and embraced our own ambiguity. We embraced 50s rock, 60s pop, and 70s punk, but we never went unequivocally retro. We played country or even rap if we felt like it. We weren't quite punk, pop, or rock, and yet we were all of them. We were just us. Then...we won. Suddenly, we were something. I mean, it said so right there on the award:
"Ruth's Hat: Best Rock Band"
And that's where the trouble started. In this post-award era of the Hat, there are expectations. We're supposed to be something. Indeed, we were trying to be something on stage. We were trying to be more, and ended up being much less.
It irked me, this set. It irked the hell out of me. Our performance was the nth level of annoying to everyone in the band. Unforeseen issue after unforeseen issue, and we responded less gracefully each time, choking even worse than the Pistons in game 5. Hear that giant sucking sound, Mr. Perot? That was the energy leaving our set. Everything felt stilted and contrived. Just a bad show in every way...but this one was particularly frustrating. The unavoidable irony was that, upon being commended/awarded for rocking in London, we proceeded to rock less than ever at our very next show.
On Saturday, people came up after the set, said we were being too critical, said that we rocked. No offense, fans, but I care lot more about what I think than what you think. Some of you love us, and for that, we love you. However, our show is about much more than pleasing the crowd. Being on stage can be so cathartic and liberating. No matter how fucked up your life gets, you can rock it away for half an hour (that's all you get) on stage.
I realized something this week: I am in this band to entertain myself, not others. When we play a cover, I want to play songs that I like. I don't want to play covers just to please the crowd; that's pandering and generic. That's the American Idol mentality. Do whatever is necessary to "make it". Talk about "markets" and "image" and sounds that are "going to be huge". Our band was always more of the "This is what we do; take it or leave it" mentality. Performing music is great for that reason; you don't have to pander. For some performers, the crowd response is everything. If a comedian can't get any laughs, he/she simply isn't a good comedian. But in a band, you can just play your music, i.e. "This is us, and if you don't like it, we don't care...because we love it." And that's enough. The best music is almost always an uncompromised, untainted sound that hasn't been watered down by a bunch of grinning ponytails who view music as "product". For all the people who claim to have seen something in our band, it was the fact that we were not specifically any of those things that made us something.
This sounds like quite a lot of nonsense to spout over one bad show...and it is. A band simply cannot remain perpetually in transition. Nevertheless, I'm hoping that if I drink enough Labatt 50 this weekend, I can return - at least in spirit - to our liminal space, where no one has pegged us yet, and we are free to do whatever we want. Liminality is freedom. Wow, do I really believe that? It would make my life sooo much easier...
I always thought that the strength of our band was its ability to exist between the lines, to do something specific and recognizable with indeterminant boundaries. We forged out this liminal space and embraced our own ambiguity. We embraced 50s rock, 60s pop, and 70s punk, but we never went unequivocally retro. We played country or even rap if we felt like it. We weren't quite punk, pop, or rock, and yet we were all of them. We were just us. Then...we won. Suddenly, we were something. I mean, it said so right there on the award:
"Ruth's Hat: Best Rock Band"
And that's where the trouble started. In this post-award era of the Hat, there are expectations. We're supposed to be something. Indeed, we were trying to be something on stage. We were trying to be more, and ended up being much less.
It irked me, this set. It irked the hell out of me. Our performance was the nth level of annoying to everyone in the band. Unforeseen issue after unforeseen issue, and we responded less gracefully each time, choking even worse than the Pistons in game 5. Hear that giant sucking sound, Mr. Perot? That was the energy leaving our set. Everything felt stilted and contrived. Just a bad show in every way...but this one was particularly frustrating. The unavoidable irony was that, upon being commended/awarded for rocking in London, we proceeded to rock less than ever at our very next show.
On Saturday, people came up after the set, said we were being too critical, said that we rocked. No offense, fans, but I care lot more about what I think than what you think. Some of you love us, and for that, we love you. However, our show is about much more than pleasing the crowd. Being on stage can be so cathartic and liberating. No matter how fucked up your life gets, you can rock it away for half an hour (that's all you get) on stage.
I realized something this week: I am in this band to entertain myself, not others. When we play a cover, I want to play songs that I like. I don't want to play covers just to please the crowd; that's pandering and generic. That's the American Idol mentality. Do whatever is necessary to "make it". Talk about "markets" and "image" and sounds that are "going to be huge". Our band was always more of the "This is what we do; take it or leave it" mentality. Performing music is great for that reason; you don't have to pander. For some performers, the crowd response is everything. If a comedian can't get any laughs, he/she simply isn't a good comedian. But in a band, you can just play your music, i.e. "This is us, and if you don't like it, we don't care...because we love it." And that's enough. The best music is almost always an uncompromised, untainted sound that hasn't been watered down by a bunch of grinning ponytails who view music as "product". For all the people who claim to have seen something in our band, it was the fact that we were not specifically any of those things that made us something.
This sounds like quite a lot of nonsense to spout over one bad show...and it is. A band simply cannot remain perpetually in transition. Nevertheless, I'm hoping that if I drink enough Labatt 50 this weekend, I can return - at least in spirit - to our liminal space, where no one has pegged us yet, and we are free to do whatever we want. Liminality is freedom. Wow, do I really believe that? It would make my life sooo much easier...
posted by Pj at 1:03 AM
2 comments
