Stanton and Miguel,

I've read Stan's piece on insensitive noisy patrons in nightclubs disrupting a sensitive performance of a sensitive ballad for sensitive people in the Feb/March issue, I've read Mike's sensitive response in the April/May issue, and now I'd like to put in my sensitive 2 cents worth, and that's about all it's worth – 2 cents – especially as a sensitive musician in a noisy nightclub.

First let me say I have the utmost respect and love for Stan. I've known the guy for decades; I've had the pleasure and the challenge of working with him now and then. I wish I could work with him more than I have, but that's show biz. I don't know Mike as well as I do Stan, but I've met him a time or two, I've never worked with him but I aspire to. I have the utmost respect for him as well.

Having said that, my perspective is a bit different than these wonderful players. In a word, sometime in the late '70's after literally tens of thousands of hours on stage - I gave up. I didn't give up playing the guitar; neither did I give up performing. I dearly love both those things. I gave up being emotionally invested in whether anyone was really listening or not. I learned to compartmentalize my art – such as it is – from any kind of commerce. And ladies and gentlemen, when you are playing in a nightclub, (I hate to disillusion y'all) it's not about the music; it's about the drink sales. When a musician is performing in a club, his “real” job is alcohol salesman. The quicker one comes to terms with that, and adjusts his attitude accordingly, the happier he'll be, and the less likely he'll be to wind up an angry-depressed-alcoholic-heroin-addict-full-of-angst-musician. Also, when anyone does actually really listen and respond, it's icing on the cake! It's an unexpected windfall! I got paid to play my guitar, and on top of that, somebody actually listened! Life is good.

I have learned that when someone is being obnoxious, either on purpose or in ignorance, the best way to deal with it is to make it part of the show. Don't be vicious about it, make it sincere. For instance, the person who is being loud in their conversation: I can play way louder than anyone can talk, so I will mimic their voice with my guitar. Sometimes they don't get it, they're completely oblivious. In this case, many times other people get it, and the person becomes part of the show without realizing it. Sometimes the person realizes what you are doing and will interact with you. You can get a call-and-response situation going. What had the potential to be an uncomfortable situation becomes a positive experience for everybody, and usually the net result is more drinks for everyone! Yaaaay! The key is to do it in a way that communicates playful good will. No glaring, no anger, no bad vibes. Smile while you do it. (I realize that might be kind of hard for horn players, but hey, you guys are smart, figure it out!)

The idea is performance art. Whatever happens, make it part of the show. Extend the improvisational attitude beyond just the music. Include the between-songs-banter. Include the cash register noise. Include the blender. Include everything . A positive, fun-filled, party atmosphere sells more drinks. Where does the sensitive ballad fit in? One every now and then is okay I suppose, but don't expect too much. You can make it work if you already have the audience involved and on your side.

Sometimes nothing works. In that case, I just play the gig, get paid, go home, and thank God I can get paid to do something I love so much that even if I worked a 40-hour week at something I hated, I would still play the guitar in my basement in my spare time for nothing.

One more thing. Last December I suffered an injury that laid me up for a month. What happened during that time was eye opening. People I didn't even know gave me money and food. So much so that what had the potential to be financially disastrous was little more than a bump in the road. It was amazing and humbling. Who were these people? They were people who had been touched, one way or another over the years, by my guitar playing, and felt compelled to step up and help. I had no idea.

The point is, we do touch people, whether we are aware of it or not. My experience has been that what I'm aware of is but a small part of a much, much bigger picture. The upshot of my experience over the last few months is that after almost 40 years of doing this I have acquired a new inspiration to just keep playing, whether I think anyone is listening or not. What the hell do I know anyway?

Jay EuDaly
MasterGuitar.com

Editors note: Jay has more detail about the response to his accident on his Web site http://www.masterguitar.com/openletter.htm

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Stanton and Miguel,

   I've read Stan's piece on insensitive noisy patrons in nightclubs disrupting a sensitive performance of a sensitive ballad for sensitive people in the Feb/March issue, I've read Mike's sensitive response in the April/May issue, and now I'd like to put in my sensitive 2 cents worth, and that's about all it's worth – 2 cents – especially as a sensitive musician in a noisy nightclub.

   First let me say I have the utmost respect and love for Stan. I've known the guy for decades; I've had the pleasure and the challenge of working with him now and then. I wish I could work with him more than I have, but that's show biz. I don't know Mike as well as I do Stan, but I've met him a time or two, I've never worked with him but I aspire to. I have the utmost respect for him as well.

    Having said that, my perspective is a bit different than these wonderful players. In a word, sometime in the late '70's after literally tens of thousands of hours on stage - I gave up. I didn't give up playing the guitar; neither did I give up performing. I dearly love both those things. I gave up being emotionally invested in whether anyone was really listening or not. I learned to compartmentalize my art – such as it is – from any kind of commerce. And ladies and gentlemen, when you are playing in a nightclub, (I hate to disillusion y'all) it's not about the music; it's about the drink sales. When a musician is performing in a club, his “real” job is alcohol salesman. The quicker one comes to terms with that, and adjusts his attitude accordingly, the happier he'll be, and the less likely he'll be to wind up an angry-depressed-alcoholic-heroin-addict-full-of-angst-musician. Also, when anyone does actually really listen and respond, it's icing on the cake! It's an unexpected windfall! I got paid to play my guitar, and on top of that, somebody actually listened! Life is good.

    I have learned that when someone is being obnoxious, either on purpose or in ignorance, the best way to deal with it is to make it part of the show. Don't be vicious about it, make it sincere. For instance, the person who is being loud in their conversation: I can play way louder than anyone can talk, so I will mimic their voice with my guitar. Sometimes they don't get it, they're completely oblivious. In this case, many times other people get it, and the person becomes part of the show without realizing it. Sometimes the person realizes what you are doing and will interact with you. You can get a call-and-response situation going. What had the potential to be an uncomfortable situation becomes a positive experience for everybody, and usually the net result is more drinks for everyone! Yaaaay! The key is to do it in a way that communicates playful good will. No glaring, no anger, no bad vibes. Smile while you do it. (I realize that might be kind of hard for horn players, but hey, you guys are smart, figure it out!)

   The idea is performance art. Whatever happens, make it part of the show. Extend the improvisational attitude beyond just the music. Include the between-songs-banter. Include the cash register noise. Include the blender. Include everything . A positive, fun-filled, party atmosphere sells more drinks. Where does the sensitive ballad fit in? One every now and then is okay I suppose, but don't expect too much. You can make it work if you already have the audience involved and on your side.

    Sometimes nothing works. In that case, I just play the gig, get paid, go home, and thank God I can get paid to do something I love so much that even if I worked a 40-hour week at something I hated, I would still play the guitar in my basement in my spare time for nothing.

    One more thing. Last December I suffered an injury that laid me up for a month. What happened during that time was eye opening. People I didn't even know gave me money and food. So much so that what had the potential to be financially disastrous was little more than a bump in the road. It was amazing and humbling. Who were these people? They were people who had been touched, one way or another over the years, by my guitar playing, and felt compelled to step up and help. I had no idea.

    The point is, we do touch people, whether we are aware of it or not. My experience has been that what I'm aware of is but a small part of a much, much bigger picture. The upshot of my experience over the last few months is that after almost 40 years of doing this I have acquired a new inspiration to just keep playing, whether I think anyone is listening or not. What the hell do I know anyway?

Jay EuDaly
MasterGuitar.com

Editors note: Jay has more detail about the response to his accident on his Web site http://www.masterguitar.com/openletter.htm

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