Bowl of Soup
When I'm on tour I rarely want to engage with anybody after playing a show. Sometimes it's basic introversion, sometimes it's the constant crush of imposter syndrome, and sometimes I'm dying of sleep deprivation and the sooner I pack up my gear the sooner I can crawl into some corner and disappear. Once in a manic while I feel the complete opposite, and then I can't resist bouncing into a crowd - a rando fan may recognize me and say, "great show!" which is a big mistake because then I latch on and talk their ear off as panic slowly grows on their face.
But generally I desire to be left alone, and assume everybody else is the same. This is a bummer because there are often VIPs in the venue - celebrities, musicians I've admired for decades, or musicians I don't really know but I must be broken if I don't want to associate with them I guess. I'm not a fan boy but it would be nice to be a human and share war stories with people who get it. After all, they witnessed me on a stage and therefore, albeit temporarily, we're in the same class.
Basically I hate shmoozing. But then comes the next day in the tour van. I can't help but feel some serious missing-out when bandmates recounts stories from last night... "Hey MacAuley Culkin was in the audience." "Did you chat with Reggie Watts?." "Here's a picture of me and John Waters." None of these cultural icons were on my radar as I was distracted, anxiously wrapping cables while facing the back of the stage with plugs still in my ears because the post-show music is too fucking loud. I'll always be just some guy, which is totally fine. Being just some guy means I can usually lurk around the audience unnoticed before shows, and soak in the energy of a crowd brimming with anticipation - situating myself within that magnetic field wakes me up as much as a cup of coffee without actually having to maintain a conversation.
I once played a festival gig in Birmingham, England. There were other interesting acts, including Mike Watt and The Missing Men. Of course I've been a fan of Watt's various projects for a long time, and of course - given everything I said above - I did nothing to actually meet the guy.
Unbeknownst to me he watched our set from the wings, and after one barnstormer I was surprised to hear him shouting in my direction, "you guys are some serious badasses!" Aw, jeez. That was very much sweet and unexpected, and I bowed in thanks.
That would have been plenty, as far as celebrity run-ins go. The next morning all the musicians were at the hotel wearily filling their plates at the buffet and successfully mingling. I kept it low-key, staying at my table and poking at my english breakfast. After eating and I returned to the lobby with my luggage and waited for my bandmates.
Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder. It's Mike Watt, immediately saying, "hey man, that was a great show last night..." We reflexively shook hands and I said, "likewise!" or something similarly basic and pithy. He continued to gush and ask insider questions about our respective tours. What a true mensch. He's one of the few people out there who actively and effortlessly broke through that wall standing between me and the rest of humanity - and all he wanted to do was simply connect for a moment on the same level down here on this earth. No social climbing, no demands, no sizing up, no butt sniffing. Just high fiving as we passed each other swimming in this same bowl of soup.